Chapter 473: Chapter 473

The familiar dizzy spell washed over him, making Jenkins wonder if he suffered from some sort of 'spatial transfer sickness.' He'd asked Papa Oliver about it once and learned that the strange sensation was perfectly normal. After enough transfers, one would eventually get used to it.

Of course, that was assuming one never ran into a spatial disaster, a subspace malevolence, or any other sort of nasty rubbish during the process.

He sat on the cold ground, eyes closed, taking a moment to adjust. His hand, resting on the surface, unexpectedly closed around a handful of damp grass.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a desolate grassland, the horizon obscured by a shroud of black mist. Besides Mr. Black Cat, there were two strangers with him. The younger one, a woman, was braced against the ground, retching, while the man, roughly Mr. Black Cat's age, clutched his mouth, looking as if he was about to be sick himself.

Looking up, he saw the same strange mist obscuring the sky, blotting out any sun, moon, or stars. The visibility nearby was decent, however, because a bonfire crackled about fifty feet ahead. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel★fire.net

An old man holding a book sat cross-legged by the bonfire. He wore a monocle, his face utterly devoid of expression.

"It worked! It's really a Mysterious Realm!"

Even though he trusted the bookshop owner not to lie, he still harbored doubts about that flash of white light. This was the first time he'd entered a Mysterious Realm feeling excited.

Jenkins also sincerely hoped this would be the last time.

The other two strangers were clearly a pair, a fact made obvious by their exchanged glances and the way they stood. But this was no place for scheming; one careless mistake could spell disaster for everyone.

After a round of brief introductions, they learned the young woman was named Celtic Knight and the middle-aged man was Slang Kreide. Jenkins, for his part, stuck with the alias Herkly Pollo, while Mr. Black Cat introduced himself as Cate Black.

The four formed a temporary alliance, verbally agreeing to a pact of mutual aid and non-aggression before finally approaching the bonfire.

The old man remained silent, his attention completely absorbed by the book in his hands. The four newcomers exchanged glances, then followed his lead and sat down.

And so, five people—or five humanoid creatures—sat in a circle around the bonfire. Being so close to the flames made the black mist shrouding the sky and the horizon seem to press in closer whenever they glanced behind them. And that, Jenkins suspected, was probably not an illusion.

"Let's tell a story, shall we?"

The reader stiffly lowered his book. As he moved, everyone could clearly see the liver spots on his wrists.

Although his words were phrased as a question, the four Enchanters knew they had no choice at all.

"How do we leave this place?"

When silence answered the old man, Jenkins decided to speak up. Mr. Black Cat immediately tugged at his sleeve, while Miss Knight and Mr. Kreide shot him startled glances.

Jenkins wasn't worried in the slightest. This was his sixth Mysterious Realm, after all. He knew very well that in the early stages, the danger was minimal as long as you didn't deliberately provoke the host or stare at it too intently.

"Simple. Once the story I tell is over, you can leave."

The old man peered at each of them in turn through his monocle. With a sharp thwack, he snapped the book shut and laid it across his lap.

The book was about the size and thickness of a regular notebook. Its cover, however, appeared to be made of some kind of leather, giving it an uneven, textured surface.

Chocolate, making himself as inconspicuous as possible, was half-hidden in the long shadow Jenkins cast in the firelight. Though he had just eaten his fill, he certainly wouldn't object to another snack.

Ignoring their expressions, the old man flipped to the first page with a thick, stubby finger. Mr. Kreide, who was sitting nearest to him, tried to sneak a glance at the page, but he immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood with a sickening splat.

The blood sprayed into the bonfire, making the flames leap and dance. Behind them, the darkness seemed to grow deeper, more profound.

"The story begins long, long ago, in an ancient era."

His tone, which had been utterly devoid of emotion when explaining the rules, was now the complete opposite. Even Jenkins had to admit that no professional storyteller could have narrated it better.

"There was a kingdom by the sea, and its people lived happy and joyful lives..."

"A Williamette-style fairytale..."

Mr. Kreide whispered to his companions.

The so-called "Williamette-style fairytale" was a reference to how Jenkins began nearly every tale in his "Stranger's Story Collection" with just such a line. It had become a major point of attack for his detractors, and critics had started using the term to describe any new fairytale with a similar style.

"The kingdom's king and queen were a loving couple, and they had three wonderful children. The protagonist of our story is the youngest of them, the kind and innocent Princess Sophia.

One weekend morning, the princess was awoken by her personal maid, just like any other day. She had long, shining golden hair and bright, dark eyes. Of course, like all little girls her age, Sophia had a few willful bad habits, such as..."

The four people, forced to listen, swallowed nervously in unison.

"For instance, she liked to eat a fresh apple after waking up."

The reader paused. A moment later, a strange sound emerged from the darkness behind the group.

Rumble... rumble... rumble...

A dozen fresh, plump apples rolled out of the darkness and came to a stop by the fire, the flames glinting off their tempting red skins.

"So then, which one should she choose from the fruit platter by her bed?"

He fell silent then, simply holding his book and looking expectantly at the four of them.

"We have to let the story continue to reach the end..."

Mr. Black Cat began, "So, this is..."

"This is a choice. And clearly, these apples are more than just simple apples."

Miss Knight picked up the thread. Her hair was also golden, though not as pure a shade as Jenkins's. He'd heard it said that some people could determine a person's noble lineage based on the subtle differences in their hair color, though who could possibly be bored enough to cultivate such a skill was a mystery.