Chapter 73: Chapter 73

The kitten was remarkably well-behaved, spending the entire day snoozing on the counter beside Jenkins. He'd already decided to adopt it and had given it a fittingly sweet name: Chocolate.

"Why that name? The cat isn't solid black,"

"I know it's fashionable to give cats human names these days, but I think Chocolate has a nicer ring to it."

The day passed peacefully. During his lunch break, Jenkins slipped into the warehouse in the shop's backyard to perform a ritual, successfully creating two Minor Explosive Charms on his own. This time, he used only high-quality materials—the pinch of ruby dust was ground from the very badge Miss Mikhail had traded last time—ensuring there would be no unexpected side effects like with the charm he'd acquired from her.

The process required searing charcoal and gunpowder, which left the engravings on the metal plates glowing fiery red even after the ritual was complete. The standard procedure called for them to cool naturally, but Jenkins had his Frost Punch ability. He cooled them down instantly and used his healing powers to mend the scorched skin on his fingers, saving a fair bit of time.

As evening fell, Jenkins asked the kitten to stay with Papa Oliver. It let out a few soft meows, as if in agreement.

He left the shop and walked down Fifth Queen's Avenue. The professor, dressed in a nondescript plaid coat, was waiting for him in a nearby alley.

Back in the shop, Papa Oliver sighed, looking around the empty store.

Muttering to himself, he reached under the counter, retrieving a large bunch of keys strung on a black wire, and grabbed the overcoat hanging nearby.

"You be a good kitty and stay here, alright? I'll be right back."

He said this to Chocolate, who flicked its tail but otherwise ignored him, seeming rather lethargic.

Meanwhile, Jenkins and the professor acknowledged each other with a nod. The professor led him through a winding series of alleys before they emerged onto a main road and hastily hailed a carriage.

"Anything I should know?"

Jenkins asked eagerly.

"Newcomers are welcome at our gatherings."

The professor whispered, "But whatever you do, don't reveal that you're a Scribe. They're extremely wary of the Orthodox Church." Thıs content belongs to novel·fıre·net

Jenkins nodded. It was the same at the gatherings organized by Mr. Hood.

"The gatherings don't follow a fixed schedule. I'll share more details once you've earned their trust. But be warned: the host calls himself Corpse Gentleman. He's... eccentric. Try not to be alarmed when you meet him."

Professor Burns shook his head quickly, as if warding off a terrible memory.

Jenkins agreed, but another thought occurred to him. "Right, will I need to reveal my Soul Emblem to verify my identity?"

He obviously couldn't use his black-robed persona, not when Professor Burns knew who he was. Yet, he was uneasy about exposing his true identity as Jenkins to a group of strangers.

The professor shook his head. "The unregistered Enchanters who attend likely have their own reasons for caution, so no one is willing to reveal their identity in that manner."

"Are some of them wanted criminals? What about this Corpse Gentleman..."

"I'm not sure. A good friend of mine, someone I hadn't seen in years, introduced me to it. But he ran into some trouble recently and had to leave Nolan."

As the sky darkened, a shroud of smog and night fell over the city.

Jenkins and the professor alighted at a secluded spot on the city's outskirts, with Jenkins paying the fare.

The two of them then took a roundabout path, found a discreet place to change into black robes and masks, and finally made their way toward a derelict building in the distance.

"Decades ago, this was a rather famous private hospital."

The professor explained in a low voice. A large, rusted iron gate hung on equally corroded hinges, forcing them to clamber over a low wall to the side.

Professor Burns displayed an athleticism that was quite remarkable for a man of his age.

"I can't recall the exact name anymore," he continued. "I was only a child when it was still in operation."

Jenkins wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but as they entered the complex of abandoned buildings, the air grew noticeably heavier with moisture. The surrounding fog didn't look like the city's usual tainted smog; it was a pure, white mist, like natural water vapor.

"Twelve years ago, a terrible incident occurred here. The hospital's procurement officer, trying to save a little money, purchased a batch of faulty test tubes that had been smuggled in from out of town. Glass manufacturing wasn't as sophisticated back then, and the Church of Creation and Machinery had yet to discover completely inert materials. In any case, the tubes reacted strangely with the medications, causing the deaths of at least ten patients. One of them was an old earl who was convalescing here."

He made the holy symbol of the Goddess over his chest and murmured a brief prayer before continuing.

By now, the two were treading a narrow path through overgrown weeds and had entered a small, two-story white building. Following the professor's lead, they kept close to the mildewed gray walls as they ventured deeper down a long corridor.

"What happened after that?"

"It was the biggest news story in the city that year," the professor explained. "The hospital director was ruined. The scandal reached all the way to the royal capital and even prompted the passage of the Medical Health and Taxation Act. I heard the tax department... well..." He cleared his throat. "But a place , operating for so many years, must have had powerful connections. The finer details are beyond the knowledge of a simple academic like myself. In any case, the hospital has been abandoned ever since."

Jenkins swallowed hard. The professor's story sounded like the perfect setup for a horror tale.

"This place isn't haunted, is it?"

Professor Burns faltered for a split second before answering with conviction, though he offered no explanation.

At the end of the corridor stood a large, closed iron door. Its surface was dented and uneven, as if it had been struck by something heavy. The professor motioned for Jenkins to wait, then stepped forward and rapped a complex pattern against the iron.

Clank... Clank... Clank...

The dull, metallic sound echoed in the darkness. A moment later, the heavy door swung open without a sound.

As they stepped inside, Jenkins saw that the door concealed a staircase leading down.

"Don't tell me this leads to the..."

"Yes, the hospital's morgue."

The place had been abandoned for so long that even the professor's grim confirmation failed to stir any real panic in Jenkins.

He'd dealt with far worse recently; a simple morgue barely registered.

The staircase was short, with a ramp for transporting bodies running alongside it. At the bottom lay a spacious room.