Chapter 489: Chapter 489

The masked man clutched his neck and fled into the mist. His footsteps were soft, but Jenkins, giving chase, remained completely unaffected by the environment thanks to his glasses. The Eye Collector, slowed by his injuries, was left behind, while Jenkins pursued the fugitive into a dark alley.

But when he dashed inside, he found it completely empty.

The man clutching his abdomen staggered to the spot nearly half a minute later, joining Jenkins in staring down the empty alley.

The alley was flanked by high walls, with only some scattered rubbish along the base. Between the two of them, one had special glasses and the other had special eyes, so their vision was unhindered by the darkness and mist, yet neither could figure out where the man had vanished.

"The blood trail stops at the entrance."

As he spoke, Jenkins raised his hand, pressing the dagger he held to the other man's throat.

"Drop your weapon. Hands up!"

Jenkins retorted confidently.

"I wonder if you remember, but we've met before. You managed to escape last time."

"Ah, so you're one of the New God Cultists."

His tone held no surprise, as if he had expected it all along.

"My name? Apologies, I haven't introduced myself."

The middle-aged man shrugged, his tone surprisingly relaxed. "My name is Ashe Spiess."

"What are you doing in Nolan?"

"I was looking for a special eye, but it seems to have been destroyed recently. No amount of divination can find a trace of it. Considering how dangerous this city is getting, I was actually already preparing to leave."

This aligned with what Jenkins already knew, but he had other questions.

"What was going on tonight?"

"What else could it be? They were both ordinary humans infected by vampires. The one you incinerated was too weak—probably a second or even third-generation infection, turned by another human. But the one who just fled... he could even transform into a bat. I imagine the one who gave him blood must have been a pure-blood, high-ranking vampire at least."

So they really can infect humans... Jenkins thought. That must be why Papa Oliver and Miss Bevanna believe that even if vampires aren't as powerful as demons, they pose a far greater threat to the city!

Seeing Jenkins lost in thought, Mr. Spiess prompted him again.

"I don't believe we have any reason to be enemies, do we? Besides, I'm a law-abiding citizen. Even if you're trying to be some champion of justice, I shouldn't be your target."

"I need you to answer a question for me."

Jenkins considered this. The man had a point, but he didn't lower his dagger.

"I've heard that your organization, the Eye Collectors' Association, is an incredibly ancient one. Is that true?"

"Yes, of course. Our history dates back to the 10th Epoch at least! Sir, is that your question?"

He said this while straightening his clothes, showing no awareness of the dagger held to his throat.

"No, no. My question is this: since that's the case, you must know about many other ancient organizations. Now tell me, do you know of the Tree House?"

This organization was connected to the mysterious Mr. Clark. That man had been a shadowy presence during the conflict over the Undying Man, and even now, Jenkins had no idea what his ultimate goal was.

"Oh, the Tree House~ I know them. A bunch of lunatics."

Mr. Spiess nodded in a flash of understanding, nearly running his neck into the blade. Jenkins had to pull it back a few inches. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novelFɪre.net

"A very ancient organization. Older than some of the Righteous Gods, even."

As he spoke, the middle-aged man carefully traced some sort of symbol over his chest before looking up again. "Pardon my words."

"Are they gathered for a specific purpose, or are they a branch of some great being's church?"

"Their structure is complicated, but they certainly aren't brought together by a unified faith. They are a gathering of renegades, all striving to attain the status of Savior. They lie dormant for most of an epoch, only emerging at its end. I'm sure you understand what being a Savior means..."

"Is it an organization... that wants to achieve godhood?"

Mr. Spiess shuddered. "Even if you are a follower of a new god, you should show the great ones some respect. Don't utter such blasphemies so casually. But yes, that is precisely their goal. That's why they're madmen. In nearly every past epoch, that group has meddled in the great events at the world's end, but their unscrupulous methods have earned them the enmity of almost every church. Yes, every single one, whether they follow the Righteous Gods or the Pseudo-Gods..." His eyes widened. "Wait... they've appeared here? Oh, gods, I really need to get out of this city."

Jenkins nodded, hesitated for a moment, and finally lowered the dagger.

"Sorry for threatening you just now."

"No, that hardly counts as a threat."

As he spoke, Mr. Spiess took a pen and paper from his pocket. He hurriedly wrote down a line, tore off the slip of paper, and handed it to Jenkins.

"I'm very curious about the followers of this new god. This is my contact address. If you ever need anything, you can find me. For a fee, of course."

Jenkins glanced down. The address was in the capital of some small nation called Conchiris, a name he only recognized from the memories of his body's previous owner.

"Are you leaving Nolan?"

He looked up as he asked, but there was nothing there besides the thick night and swirling mist. The man was gone.

Did he let me threaten him on purpose, just so he could reveal all that to me?

The suspicion lingered in Jenkins's mind.

The incident that night had no further repercussions. After all, his flames had burned every trace of it to ash.

The next day, Jenkins of course asked Papa Oliver about vampire infections. His mentor, however, seemed rather annoyed and told him to go research it himself at the Secret Trace Library. He was also to submit their report on Saturday's incident while he was there.

"Right now? But what about the shop?"

"What business? I doubt we'll have a single customer all morning."

Papa Oliver was busy peering through his monocle, examining a strand of hair held in a pair of forceps. It had been delivered from the church that morning.

"Go on, now. If you find the book, I want you to finish it within a week and give me a three-foot-long book report."

Before Papa Oliver's demands could escalate further, Jenkins hastily grabbed his coat and hat and ran out of the shop, almost leaving Chocolate behind.