Chapter 447: Chapter 447

Mr. Nelly glanced at Jenkins, his expression alight with interest, as if eagerly anticipating such a story from him.

"I'm sorry, but my next book won't be a detective story."

He paused to consider, then added, "It's more along the lines of a courtly novel, or perhaps a knight's adventure. My publisher advised me to cater to more popular tastes, but I'll certainly consider your suggestion for a third book."

"I greatly look forward to reading your work."

The gentleman raised his glass, nodded to Jenkins, and then downed the contents in one go.

With talk of detective stories in the air, a faint, unavoidable hope flickered in everyone's hearts—a hope that some thrilling, major case might shatter the monotony of the night. But life went on, the world remained as mundane as ever, and inside the train carriage, surrounded by the blizzard, all was peaceful and serene.

As one in the morning approached, Jenkins concluded his card game with the other gentlemen. Noticing that Chocolate was still unusually energetic, he decided to take the cat outside for a stroll and experience the world's snow-covered plains firsthand.

Though snow was falling, the wind wasn't particularly harsh. With the collar of his overcoat turned up, the outdoor temperature was bearable, at least for a little while.

A few sets of footprints stretched out from the bottom of the steps, left behind by the last group of passengers who had ventured out to watch the snow. Jenkins stood at the exit of the carriage and let out a long sigh, a plume of white vapor instantly clouding the air before him.

He clutched the oil lamp he'd acquired from the underground bronze coffer. The item's origins were untraceable, and its only apparent peculiarity was that objects bathed in its light cast no shadows.

In other words, it was an Unshadowed Lamp.

With the lamp in hand and Chocolate on his shoulder, he took a few steps into the darkness. Looking back at the brightly lit steam train, he saw it lying like a great, luminous serpent, coiled motionlessly upon the dark expanse of the snowfield.

"Speaking of which, I wonder what the story was with that snake at Hausen Manor. I completely forgot to ask..."

He muttered to himself, took off a glove and gently rubbed Chocolate's small nose, earning a soft, disgruntled meow from the cat.

For safety's sake, he didn't venture far, intending only to make a short loop before returning to his card game. But trouble had a way of finding Jenkins, especially when he least expected it.

As he walked, a blurry figure materialized in the distance. He initially dismissed it as a trick of his sleep-deprived eyes, but as he drew nearer, he saw it was unmistakably a man. He appeared to be around thirty, dressed in black leather boots and a black woolen overcoat with silver buttons at the cuffs. Like Jenkins, his collar was turned up against the wind and snow, and a hat shadowed the upper half of his face, making his visible eyes stand out all the more.

With his hands thrust into his pockets, he watched Jenkins through the darkness, a fine layer of snow already dusting the brim of his hat.

"An Enchanter? Level six?"

A jolt of alarm shot through Jenkins. He instantly regretted leaving the train so rashly; his bodyguard was likely still on board.

"Jenkins Redemptor Williams?"

Jenkins nodded but remained silent, his mind racing as he weighed his options: make a run for the train or strike first and test the stranger's capabilities.

"My name is Osiris Alexander. No need to be alarmed. I'm not an assassin, nor do I bear you any ill will. I simply wish to propose a trade."

The man's voice cut through the wind and snow, reaching Jenkins's ears. It was magnetic, with a somewhat androgynous quality. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel·fire.net

Instead of asking about the trade, Jenkins focused on the name. If he recalled correctly, this was the man who...

"That's right," the man confirmed. "I was the one who organized the exploration of the Kremen Treasure. Unfortunately, the one-in-seven odds were still too slim. I didn't obtain what I was searching for."

He spoke calmly, gesturing toward the oil lamp in Jenkins's hand:

"I want that. But I'm no thief. Name your price. I'm also open to a trade—I have plenty of rituals and extraordinary items myself."

Silence stretched between them for a long moment, broken only by the faint whisper of the wind and falling snow. They stared into each other's eyes as snowflakes drifted through the space separating them.

Chocolate meowed softly, but Jenkins was too preoccupied to heed it.

The cat cried out again, its call sharper this time, as if trying to ward something off. Mr. Alexander, who had also taken note of the unusually assertive feline, followed its gaze. Farther out on the snowfield, a dark, stumbling shadow was slowly drawing nearer.

Jenkins, who had spotted it as well, made the same guess. But as the shadow drew closer, he realized it was a woman, her face deathly pale, wrapped in a fur coat. She looked terribly weak, her hair whipping wildly in the wind, the tips already frosted with ice.

Mr. Alexander asked Jenkins.

"No. With the Church looking for me, now is hardly the time to be meeting with friends."

Both men remained frozen, watching as the woman drew nearer. Neither stepped forward to help, nor did they prepare to flee. Mr. Alexander was afraid; an intense sense of danger washed over him, bringing to mind some unsavory rumors. Jenkins, too, was afraid, for he could see a thick, black spiritual aura enveloping her.

As if only just now noticing the two men, the wretched woman stretched out a hand toward them before collapsing into the snow. But she didn't give up. Inch by inch, she began to crawl forward, carving a crooked trench in the pristine snowfield.

The darkness had deepened almost imperceptibly, swallowing even the stars behind a veil of clouds. A chill seeped into Jenkins's bones, and a profound sense of dread gripped his heart. These were the telltale signs of a Cursed Item. This woman wasn't human.

"Perhaps we should deal with this first,"

"My thoughts exactly."

Mr. Alexander murmured in agreement.

As they spoke, the situation changed. The woman in the snow seemed to fear the light, for she stopped crawling the moment she reached the edge of the glow cast by Jenkins's lamp.

"Oh, for the gods' sake, gentlemen, please help me! We were caught in an avalanche... everyone else is dead... *sob*..."

But Jenkins and Alexander merely watched her, searching for any clue that might reveal her true nature.