Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 832

"You want to eat this mouse, and you want me to cook it for you, is that it?"

Bevanna hazarded another guess. She knew Jenkins's pampered cat didn't eat raw meat.

The cat meowed for a third time, releasing the mouse and attempting to stand on its hind legs. It spread its forepaws in a gesture no one could decipher before dropping back to all fours, casually swatting the mouse back as it tried to bolt.

The meaning was still lost on her.

She watched as the cat repeatedly recaptured the scurrying mouse, occasionally patting, hugging, or even "kissing" it. Finally, the mouse seized an opportunity during the cat's playful batting to escape. It scurried over to a piece of white paper and used Psychography to write:

Bevanna froze, wondering if she was losing her mind. Nevertheless, she reached out and scooped up the little rodent. The cat, displeased, tried to snatch the Jenkins-mouse back, letting out a threatening hiss.

The young man who'd offered the candy had said the transformation was irreversible without divine power. Jenkins himself possessed no divinity, but the Legacy Sage would surely not refuse to help one of His faithful.

Performing the ritual of prayer and devotion was difficult in his murine form, but with the help of the Keeper of Secrets and Bevanna, he managed to successfully offer up an entire Komodo Blood-Veil Flower—an item of immense value. As the Sage's gaze descended upon him, Jenkins endured the same agony as before and was transformed back into his human shape.

The first thing he did upon returning to his human form was to snatch up the gloating Chocolate. Just as the cat had done to him, he began to vigorously knead its head in his palm. Only then did he have a moment to clutch his own forehead. He was suffering from a pounding headache, both mental and physical.

Mr. Smith remained as expressionless as ever, but Bevanna, having witnessed the spectacle of the cat toying with the mouse, almost burst out laughing.

"So, I hear you were turned into a mouse?"

That was the first question Papa Oliver asked after rushing over to see him. Jenkins covered his face, refusing to answer. The horrifying experience under his cat's paws was something he wanted to forget for the rest of his life.

As for the whole story, it began when Jenkins, enjoying a day off, was wandering through the city. A flash of inspiration led him to a small pouch in a pile of rubbish. The moment he opened it, he was transformed into a mouse. If not for Chocolate's timely intervention, he likely would have been devoured by a passing stray.

To make his story more credible, he produced the [Soul Box] (B-04-3-7292) as evidence, claiming he had found it along with the pouch.

Unfortunately, the rubbish heap in question had been buried under a collapsed building during the recent earthquake. The rubble was now a hopeless mess of debris and household items, leaving no clues to be found.

"So that's what happened," he concluded. "I wasn't wandering about after sunset; I just accidentally came across something dangerous."

He stuck to his explanation, insisting that both the pouch and the [Soul Box] (B-04-3-7292) must have been deliberately left by some malevolent, unregistered Benefactor. The brave Jenkins had unfortunately fallen into the trap, but at least an innocent citizen hadn't been harmed.

Bevanna seemed to accept his story, though Papa Oliver still looked skeptical. The earthquake, however, hadn't brought only misfortune. In the aftermath of the massive quake, the Church was in desperate need of healers. Jenkins was promptly dispatched to a hospital to assist, and so the bizarre incident was more or less glossed over in the ensuing chaos.

By the time he had to submit a report on the matter, Jenkins had perfected his lie. In his version of events, the seal had been flawlessly reinforced, and he himself had emerged unscathed.

Aside from providing Chocolate with a bit of entertainment, there had been no real harm done.

Of course, Jenkins had no intention of letting Chocolate off the hook. While he was grateful that his cat had appeared at just the right moment to save his rodent self, its behavior on Bevanna's desk had been nothing short of malicious torment.

Chocolate meowed pitifully.

"Don't play innocent with me. Were you just following your instincts? Showing off your natural hunting prowess?"

The cat had the audacity to nod, giving Jenkins a newfound appreciation for its intelligence.

"Fine. Just a moment, please."

It was easy enough to find a lab mouse at the hospital. Jenkins placed the small white creature and Chocolate together, then gestured for his cat to once again demonstrate its so-called "hunting prowess."

The cat let out a disdainful meow, extended a delicate paw, and summarily kicked the terrified, trembling mouse right off the table.

His plan to thank Chocolate with a cake—only to snatch it away mid-bite and smear it all over the cat's face—would have to wait for another day. Jenkins spent the rest of Monday evening helping out at the hospital.

While it was generally inadvisable to interfere too much in the lives and deaths of mortals, the Church always lent a hand during large-scale disasters.

He wasn't at Nolan Public Hospital No. 3, which was still under lockdown, but at St. Roman's Hospital. St. Roman's had been founded with funding from the Church of Knowledge and Books and the Universal Star Church. The hospital was named after a renowned Saint from the Universal Star Church who lived in the early days of the current Epoch.

It was a private hospital, but it offered discounted rates to believers of the faith. While this didn't make healthcare affordable for everyone, it did help to ease the burden for many.

The evening's earthquake had little effect on the city proper, though the northeastern districts suffered some damage. The villages and towns near the mining areas, however, had seen widespread collapses and numerous casualties. Consequently, the patients who made it to St. Roman's were mostly those with minor injuries.

Jenkins's duties were relatively light, and during his breaks, he chatted with the hospital doctors.

The current topic of complaint, naturally, was the impending winter flu, which was expected to become a full-blown epidemic. The doctors were all worried it would combine with the spring flu, creating a true catastrophe. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on NoveI[F]ire.net

Before the earthquake, the hospital's beds had been filled mostly with influenza patients. There was no effective treatment for the illness. Aside from traditional methods like bloodletting and enemas, doctors could only offer some recently synthesized medicines and herbal remedies learned from abroad.

It was hard to say which approach was more effective, but it was certainly better than simply lying at home and waiting for the illness to run its course.