Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 617

Letters dispatched from Nolan quickly arrived in every corner of the continent, and a growing number of investors learned the truth exposed by the author. The public outcry in Eldron City was even more intense than in Nolan; nearly one-tenth of the city's residents had been drawn into the investment game.

The furious and anxious crowds nearly ransacked the local Travelers' Bank. Fortunately, they remembered that the authority of the Righteous Gods was not to be challenged. After all, the Church's "gentler" approach to common folk was only a few hundred years old.

Once the existence of a massive criminal organization was confirmed, Miss Fabry's investment enterprise was almost unanimously and officially declared a "fraud" across the three great kingdoms.

Thanks to Mr. Williams's righteous intervention, the majority of the defrauded funds were successfully intercepted. However, this also meant that every investor would have to cover a portion of the losses.

The next morning, the newspapers ran headlines blaring "The Spire-style Fraud" and "The Fabry Fraud," featuring Jenkins's words printed verbatim. More and more people began to discuss this "ingenious" fraudulent scheme, which, for people of this era, was a remarkably complex method.

What was even more surprising was that the Church, by examining transaction records, discovered that a group of swindlers from Green Avenue had transferred a massive sum of money into the account. Under interrogation, they revealed they had long planned to use the new financial tool of banking to hide their illicit funds. The reason they chose Miss Fabry's account was because:

"One of them had received a letter from Miss Fabry and learned about her scheme. He and a few accomplices then deceived the majority of their own group, convincing the sect to use her account without disclosing the potential returns. By doing so, they could pocket the substantial investment profits for themselves."

It was, Jenkins figured, the equivalent of taking "company" funds to go "play the market."

"So, swindlers trying to hide their stolen money got swindled by their own partners into depositing it into another swindler's account?"

Miss Bevanna took a few moments to untangle the logic before nodding.

"That's right. Although Miss Fabry is a fraud herself, I have to admit, she's a genius!" The rıghtful source is novᴇlfire.net

No one was surprised that Jenkins had unraveled the scheme. Many could attest to his long-standing interest in the matter, and the Church had faith that the Saint Son could easily deduce the truth from even the most convoluted clues.

Jenkins became a hero—the man who exposed the greatest fraud of the century. Miss Fabry became the villain—the woman who perpetrated it. The very people who cursed Miss Fabry's name were now lavishing praise upon Jenkins, and those hunting for the swindler were now preparing to award Jenkins medals for his service.

Even though the next day was the Festival of Year's End, the story of the brilliant and audacious fraud spread out from Nolan to become the biggest news of the year. The sheer number of victims, the vast sums of money involved, the mysterious woman at the center of it all, and the incredible methodology ensured the affair would be immortalized in the annals of history.

A near-carnival atmosphere took hold as people everywhere discussed the miraculous and insane affair. They debated the details revealed in the papers, mocked the greedy victims, and marveled at the identity of the phantom-like woman.

Indeed, public opinion was split. Some were convinced Miss Fabry was real—after all, the details in her letters were so authentic. Others insisted she must be a fabrication, arguing that no woman could possibly possess such vision and skill.

Regardless, the name "Miss Fabry" was destined to be remembered forever. In the public's mind, she—or he—was as ephemeral as a shadow, yet as tangibly real as if standing right before them.

Followers of the New God had been described in similar terms, a fact that aroused the suspicion of the Church, which had initially dismissed the case as a purely mortal affair.

And of course, no one could forget Jenkins Williams, the author who seemed blessed by the Sage himself. With his intellect, he had seen through it all. He was worthy of being called a true genius—

This, at least, was the newspaper's hyperbolic take on it. Papa Oliver had seized upon that very article and used it to mock Jenkins for an entire day.

For a fleeting few seconds, Jenkins almost believed he was a genius himself. After all, no one would ever suspect that Jenkins Williams was, in fact, Miss Fabry. Anyone who made such an outrageous claim would surely be committed to a psychiatric hospital.

The righteous male author and the illusory female fraudster—they simply couldn't be one and the same.

"Jenkins, I'm so proud of you."

Robert Williams remarked with feeling as the Williams family walked along the stone path of the cemetery.

Today was the Festival of Year's End, the last day of the year, and the family was following their tradition of visiting the graves of Mary's parents. As for Robert's side of the family, all their relatives were buried in their distant hometown; even if they were to return, they wouldn't be able to find the graves anymore.

The four men were dressed in black formal suits and leather shoes, while Mary wore a black lace dress, a single white flower pinned to her hat. On the way over, their conversation had been dominated by the "Fabry Fraud," a topic to which Robert was especially sensitive, given his work in the mining industry.

He had learned from his sons that John had previously sought Jenkins's advice on the matter. He praised both young men heartily—John for his caution and Jenkins for his warning. Both had acted with perfect judgment.

"It seems the Williams boys are all clever," he declared. "Our family upbringing has been a great success."

He was, of course, praising himself.

None of the three children had ever met their maternal grandparents, but the annual visit had become an inviolable tradition. After the Williams family's fortunes had improved, Mary had considered moving the graves to a safer, more expensive cemetery. Most of the people buried here were common folk, and rumors of grave robbers circulated every year. Despite this, she could never bring herself to make a final decision.

"It was nothing, really. Please, don't praise me."

This was not humility. Turning himself in brought Jenkins no satisfaction whatsoever. On the contrary, the fact that he had walked away with ten thousand pounds left him with a lingering sense of guilt—though it was a feeling that faded rapidly with each passing day.

"I heard you're planning to nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds to the victims of this affair? That's a considerable sum."

Robert Williams asked.

The reason for keeping the amount just under five figures was practical: donations of ten thousand pounds or more required a far more complex process, whereas anything less could be given directly through the Church.

"I've already made up my mind. The inheritance from Viscount Augustus should be arriving any day now. For me, once gold pounds reach five figures, they're just numbers on a page. I don't need that much money."

Jenkins spoke in a low voice, as if he feared a bolt of lightning would strike him down from the heavens.