Chapter 486: Chapter 486

Only after Jenkins had given his solemn word that he would absolutely not get involved in such a dangerous matter did Papa Oliver finally rustle his newspaper and raise it again. His eyes fell on a particular section, and he added another thought.

"A lot has happened in the last month, but most of those heretical and illegal organizations have been hit hard by various incidents related to the New God cultists. Take the Gear Artisans' Guild, for example. We haven't found a single new case of their germ infection in half a month. They've probably been forced to go underground with the Church of Creation and Machinery on their trail."

"They're likely digging for something..."

Jenkins knew about this, but he couldn't... wait, why couldn't he?

"I remember now! During the time I was missing yesterday, I think I heard about it! The reason those people came to Nolan was to find a steam-powered machine buried deep in the city's underground mining tunnels!"

"Then don't forget to include that in your report," Papa Oliver muttered, not particularly interested. "There's so much buried under Nolan that the Orthodox Churches still have people surveying the area. In fact, we find at least one special item every year. It's the most stable source of artifacts for the diocese."

The old man seemed unconcerned by the revelation. He mumbled a final comment and fell silent, his attention drawn back to the ink-heavy pages of the newspaper. Just as he said, they were both just semi-clerical field personnel.

Due to the heavy fog that had blanketed the city, the antique shop didn't see its first customer until noon. She was a timid young woman who spoke in hushed tones, seemingly looking for a birthday present for her father.

At Papa Oliver's prompting, Jenkins went to assist her. Miraculously, it took him less than ten minutes to convince her to purchase a glass-bodied snuff bottle with painted enamel, an item that had sat on the shelf since Jenkins's very first day at the shop.

The dull workday dragged on until three in the afternoon. Although the fog had thinned a little around noon, visibility in the city remained poor. Seeing that business was dead, Papa Oliver allowed Jenkins to leave early, which suited him just fine as he had some personal matters to attend to.

The moment Jenkins pushed open the door to the antique shop and turned to bid Papa Oliver farewell, Chocolate, unable to bear it a second longer, desperately burrowed into his collar.

A burnt smell, far more pungent than usual, hung in the air. Even Jenkins had to cover his nose.

"What's burning? Ugh, I'd better take a carriage!"

The truth was that a combination of low pressure from the ocean and the direction of the continental winds had trapped the exhaust from the surrounding steam factories, causing it to circulate within the city. This weather was expected to last for about a week, which made Jenkins's decision to postpone his equestrian training until the spring an exceptionally wise one.

His first order of business was to tour the city with a reluctant Chocolate to check on the execution of Viscount Augustus's inheritance. Bishop Parrold had already made excellent arrangements, but Jenkins felt that since he was the one receiving the inheritance, he ought to take a more hands-on approach.

At about six in the evening, having made a near-complete circuit of the city, Jenkins had the driver drop him off at a nearby alley, where he once again summoned his black robe.

He proceeded on foot to the Travelers' Bank, a journey that happened to take him past the clock shop on the same grand avenue.

That shop had been the scene of a major event on the 31st of last month, when its owner was brutally murdered by a certain writer. As a result, the storefront was now sealed off.

The doors and windows were nailed shut with wooden planks, over which the police department had affixed their official seals. A shop on a main thoroughfare was incredibly valuable, but the Church would absolutely not permit anyone else to occupy it, at least not until the matter with the Gear Artisans' Guild was concluded. They were still waiting for the aftershocks from the damaged Bestowal to dissipate before they could conduct divination and scrying on the premises.

Jenkins, his head tilted and a monocle perched on his eye, was struck by a sudden thought. He blinked, and to his surprise, he could see three Enchanters standing inside the sealed shop. They were of a considerably high level, and most of their abilities were divine in nature—a standard configuration for Enchanters from an Orthodox Church.

"Could those be the Enchanters from the 'Church of Mr. Artisan'?"

He mulled it over for a moment but decided it had nothing to do with him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked away, affecting the nonchalant air of an ordinary pedestrian.

Jenkins's "sustainable, harms-no-one mineral investment" project was proceeding very smoothly. He had been cautious enough not to handle the business at any of the capital's banks during his stay in Bel Diran, but the people wiring the money didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

He had taken to visiting the bank every evening lately to carefully analyze the transaction data and prevent any unforeseen accidents. But aside from a growing number of small, scattered accounts and a trend of them spreading outward from the Aediran District, there was nothing else worth noting.

This was, of course, excellent news. The more funds in the account, the more "holes" Jenkins could patch up if needed. After considerable thought, he decided to open several different accounts under new identities, constantly transferring the capital between them to create the illusion of genuine, profitable circulation.

"I'm an absolute genius!"

The success of his venture was making Jenkins a bit smug. He was confident that his scheme wouldn't be exposed before the cultist at 13 Green Avenue in Aediran was finally arrested.

In fact, the very address that had started this whole affair was still sending love letters to "Miss Fabry." Unsure how to respond, Jenkins had been carefully probing for information about the sender while lifting phrases from his own fan mail to write back.

This approach had proven remarkably effective. According to the bank records and the most recent letters, the resident of that address placed complete trust in Miss Fabry and had invested a considerable sum to support her mining enterprise.

Of course, for the time being, this had also made the sender quite a handsome profit.

Audrey had sent a letter in advance, inviting Jenkins to join her for dinner before their lesson this evening, so after leaving the bank, he went straight to her residence. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel⦿fire.net

She was the same as ever, though Jenkins was particularly impressed that she had taken the care to prepare food and a dish for Chocolate as well.

Their dinner conversation was limited to Jenkins's recent experiences. She was, of course, already aware of yesterday's incident involving the suspected appearance of a vampire.