Chapter 83: Chapter 83

Papa Oliver's voice, stern and uncompromising, echoed in his memory: "Listen to me, and listen well. Any ability involving space is exceedingly dangerous. Any Series A, B, or C item related to it must never be used lightly. Never—and I mean never, my young apprentice—attempt to meddle with the domain of space. You'd be better off praying to a heretical god than attempting spatial transference! The very fabric of space in this world is incredibly... well, never mind that. Just know that going mad would be the kindest fate you could hope for."

The ritual Papa Oliver himself had used for sending messages was safe only because it was shielded by the divine power of the Legacy Sage.

Jenkins vividly recalled the expression on Papa Oliver's face, which was why he understood just how perilous his current situation was.

The sound grew closer. Jenkins slowly turned his head and saw a small red ball rolling out from the far end of the corridor, threading its way through scattered sunflower seed shells and a discarded copy of the Nolan Daily. It rolled straight toward him, bumping gently against the black leather shoes of his disguise.

"Excuse me, mister. Could you pass that back to me?"

The boy's voice, stiff and unnervingly young, came from behind him. It carried a chilling undercurrent of innocent malice.

Jenkins thought, gathering the power of frost in his right fist. He swung a vicious backhanded punch behind him, but his knuckles met only empty air.

He let out a sharp gasp as a searing pain shot through his right arm. With no time to waste, Jenkins flung the soul-calming talisman he clutched in his left hand, but it fluttered uselessly to the floor some distance away.

Glancing down, he saw a gash on his right arm, about the length of his little finger. A sickly green corruption was already gathering around the wound.

"Just don't tear the Black Robe," he muttered to himself, "it's the only valuable thing I own."

As this thought crossed his mind, he withdrew the candle and pressed his now-free left hand over the wound to begin healing it.

This is what it was waiting for.

The instant the candle's light vanished, an intensely cold presence materialized behind him. Jenkins threw both fists out in a desperate block, but a tremendous force slammed into him, sending him flying.

Using the momentum, he crashed straight through a wooden door off the corridor. Without a second thought—Crash!—he shattered the windowpane with a frost-wreathed fist and leaped out.

Jenkins had no idea what floor he'd just jumped from, but he was once again plunging into a white mist. During the spatial transition, he felt the unnerving sensation of something strange watching him from afar. Before the feeling could fully register, however, his feet touched down on solid ground.

He was still inside the hospital. Judging by the decor, it was one of the special wards reserved for the nobility—one of the few privileges that even impoverished lords could still enjoy in this day and age.

Before him stood a mirror, but the face staring back was not his own. It was an unfamiliar woman. Her head was matted with blood, her complexion was deathly pale, and her dark eyes smoldered with pure hatred.

Though he had never seen her, Jenkins recalled Captain Bincy's words. "You're the malevolent spirit they sealed in this hospital?"

She didn't answer. Instead, her hand reached out from the mirror's surface and seized his throat. Last time, his cat Chocolate had been there to save him. This time, his luck had run out.

Suddenly, a bizarre sensation flooded his body, as if something was forcing its way inside him.

Before Jenkins could resist, he felt his soul being forced out of his own body.

"Can a body that's already been taken over once be possessed again?"

With this question hanging in his mind, he was completely ejected from the body known as Jenkins Williams. His soul separated from the flesh, and along with it came the Black Robe, a candle, and a golden ring.

His hand instinctively shot out, grabbing for the golden gel he had carefully stored in his coat's inner lining. The instant the gel made contact with his incorporeal form, it merged seamlessly into his soul—a soul now clad in a Black Robe and wearing a golden ring.

An extraordinary sense of fulfillment suffused his entire being. In that instant, he felt his existence elevate, endlessly, higher and higher and higher. Information from the world flooded his senses, an unreal feeling, as if he had just transitioned from a digital world of ones and zeroes into reality itself. And with that, he was completely, utterly awake.

A strange and wondrous chorus of sounds arose from all around, as if the world itself was celebrating.

The soul, vessel of Grace, The body, forged by the Divine, The path, guided by Fate.

The transmigrator, Jenkins, had ascended to godhood!

A tremendous stream of information poured into his being, and the knowledge he already possessed began to resonate faintly with the world itself.

Jenkins had no time to process any of it. Acting on pure instinct, he reached out with the hand wearing the golden ring and seized the physical body now occupied by the malevolent spirit.

"Please, I'll do anything... save me. No, no, sir, I really don't have any money, really, I swear."

Hatred, so much hatred... cold, so cold... what is this? Oh, gods... oh, in the end, I see... Follow current novels on novelꞁire.net

Why attack me? Why, why, why?

Follower of the Sage, why is your knowledge so heavy?

Follower of the Unlit Moon, that silver moonlight is too brilliant for a lowly person like me.

Follower of the Storm Lord, even on land, can your god's power reach such heights?

That... that mesmerizing starry sky... it looks so much like... yes, like gold pounds, so many gold pounds! Ah, my god, gold pounds! It's gold pounds!

You are... yes, I remember now, you are also followers of the Great End... why... why must you...

So tired... I'm trapped... so hungry... I miss bread crumbs.

The living, the dead... am I... dead? ...Yes.

Will you make a deal with me?

Will you give me that thing?

I hate this smell of sulfur, And also, What... is sulfur?

Ah, I want it, I want it.

"I... understand now."

The golden divinity at the core of his new form burned fiercely, and in the blink of an eye, a third of it was consumed.

With a flick of his wrist, Jenkins's physical body slumped backward. His spiritual hand, the one adorned with the golden ring, now clutched a transparent, shadowy soul.

It should have been impossible, but the moment it was touched by a divine being, the malevolent spirit's soul began to transform.

It gazed upon the young face beneath the black hood, an expression of inexplicable fanaticism spreading across its features. But ultimately, it could not withstand the direct gaze of a god, and its form slowly crumbled into ash.

Jenkins narrowed his eyes, his gaze falling upon the empty body on the floor. In this special state, transcendent and detached from the world, he waved a hand and summoned the motes of light that represented his abilities. He reached out and tapped the purple one.

"[The Unknown Path]... is also the path revealed. When the road signs ahead are gathered in your palm, you shall receive the guidance of destiny."

Viewing the spirit's past had consumed a third of his newfound divinity. Now, a mere moment's contact with fate—less than a second—was about to exhaust the rest.

He did not use his last few seconds of power for anything else. Instead, in the final moment before his soul returned to its mortal shell, before he became ordinary once more, he turned and looked into the mirror.

Reflected there, hidden beneath the Black Robe, was not the face of Jenkins, with his pale skin. It was the face of Zhan Jin—with yellow skin, black hair, and black eyes.

He smiled in satisfaction.