Chapter 495: Chapter 495

The book Papa Oliver had mentioned and the one Professor Burns had recommended, "Blood and Malice: Tracing Ancient Aberrations," were both resting quietly on the bookshelf. The latter was a rather old text; judging by the foreword and acknowledgments on the title page, the author had lived during the early years of the current epoch. But such books were simply recopied, so this volume looked brand new.

"Contents, contents..."

He muttered as he flipped through the pages, but something about the way the book felt in his hands was off. He closed it and examined it from top to bottom, only to discover that the last few pages had been torn out.

"Confidential material? If I could reveal that I've reached level three, I might be able to see the missing pages on the third floor of the library."

The author of this book had documented most of the vampiric species and their subspecies that he was familiar with. The ones he wrote about at great length were the humanoid vampiric species often mentioned by modern novelists—or, as they're more commonly known, vampires.

Skipping over the information Jenkins already knew, he turned directly to the chapter on "Infection." He pressed his finger to the page and read word by word:

[...Most vampiric Enchanters can infect other races with their blood, referring to the infected as servants. High-level vampires can control their servants to a certain extent and share a portion of their power with them; first and second-generation infected are also capable of this. Of course, doing so not only weakens the vampire but also causes permanent physical and spiritual damage to the infected...]

"Just as I thought," Jenkins mused. "Does that mean the two I encountered that night were humans infected by a vampire? If the one who escaped was also one, then just how powerful is the being who granted them their strength?"

After dinner came his lesson with Miss Bevanna. She hurried down from her carriage at the church entrance around eight o'clock, accompanied by many other Scribes.

"The hospital's blood bank was robbed. By the time we arrived, we only managed to catch a few small fry..."

As if to illustrate her point, a bound man was carried down by the Scribes.

"Yes. The Church uncovered some leads after the incident the other night. We were planning to catch them all in one fell swoop tonight, but it seems we failed."

Seeing that everyone else had moved away, Miss Bevanna gestured for Jenkins to follow her to the training grounds.

"Something isn't right about this," she said. "I'm afraid there's a problem with the police department that was assisting us."

"You mean... someone in the police department has been infected?"

The evening's lesson was, once again, learning new stances on the soft mats. According to Miss Bevanna, mastering this set of stances would likely take them an entire month. After that, it would be up to Jenkins to practice them repeatedly on his own. Only after that month would they begin the more practical training he had imagined, like combat and weapons handling.

The lesson ended at eleven. Jenkins bid farewell to Miss Bevanna, and with Chocolate in tow, he started for home.

He was utterly exhausted. Fortunately, nothing strange happened on the way. But just as he turned onto St. George Avenue, a carriage suddenly darted out from another intersection and sped into the neighborhood.

The carriage finally stopped in front of his neighbor's house. Stepping down from it was none other than the widow, Mrs. Margaret.

She was wrapped in a red scarf and wore a somewhat old-fashioned knitted hat. Her pregnancy was now quite noticeable.

Following Mrs. Margaret out of the carriage were two middle-aged men who looked like bodyguards. They supported her as she carefully opened the gate and walked toward the house.

After the carriage departed from St. George Avenue, Jenkins emerged from the deep shadow of the corner house. He didn't want his neighbor to think he was spying on her. Google seaʀᴄh ɴovelfire.net

"Why is Mrs. Margaret back? Does she plan to have the baby here?"

He wondered. Seeing the gas lights in her house flicker on, he ducked his head and continued walking, his right hand fumbling in his pocket for the gate key.

Chocolate had no patience to walk with Jenkins. While he was standing in the shadows, the cat had already squeezed through a gap under the fence and into their yard. By the time Jenkins was still walking down St. George Avenue, it had already reached the second-floor guest room, where the window offered a clear view of the neighbor's house.

Chocolate gulped, its tail swishing, as it stared with narrowed eyes.

The next morning, Jenkins received a letter from the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe. Mr. Nelly was inviting him to meet that afternoon to discuss the creation of a new opera in detail.

He told Papa Oliver about it at the antique shop, and Pops was very supportive, so Jenkins got another half-day off.

His primary method for accumulating Spirit was still transcribing the fragmented stone tablet from the black-and-white photograph, but this method was only effective for Enchanters below level four. Jenkins had recently decided to find a good opportunity to announce that he had reached level three. This was to avoid a situation where, upon reaching level four, he would be stuck for a long time without a way to advance further.

As for the matter of the vampires, since Papa Oliver had told him not to get involved, he didn't press Pops for the latest updates.

However, based on his conversation with Miss Bevanna the previous night, there was reason to believe that a powerful vampiric creature had indeed infiltrated the city. This wasn't a recent development; the existing clues had led them to several infected individuals with surprising ease. This suggested that the vampire had been in Nolan for quite some time. It had only been exposed a few days ago when, for some unknown reason, it suddenly went on a killing spree.

The meeting with Mr. Nelly took place at the Nolan Quill Pen Club. It had only been a few days since they last met, but he looked much thinner.

"Are you adjusting to life in Nolan?" Jenkins asked. "I hear you spend most of your time on business in the Cheslan Kingdom and rarely travel this way."

"It is a bit cold here compared to the south," Mr. Nelly replied. "But that's nothing. Nolan has excellent steam pipe coverage. Years ago, when I was doing business in the Hamparvo Kingdom..."

Due to his accent, Jenkins couldn't quite catch the rest of the sentence, but it sounded like a complaint about the place.

According to their verbal agreement on the train, Mr. Nelly was willing to offer Jenkins a stake in the opera troupe in exchange for a new script. The offer itself was questionable, and Jenkins was still mulling it over. He never expected Mr. Nelly to show up this time with a contract in hand.

It was a highly detailed contract. Even a layman like Jenkins could see that it covered every possible detail comprehensively. It was almost as if Mr. Nelly was begging Jenkins to sign it.