Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 990

Sunday morning began with the crow of a rooster. Jarred from sleep, Jenkins lay stunned for a long moment before his mind began to grapple with a single, perplexing question: why was there a rooster crowing anywhere near his house?

His first suspicion fell on Chocolate, who might well be mimicking a rooster to wake him. The cat had always been peculiar; Jenkins wouldn't have been surprised if it suddenly started speaking in full sentences. But a glance at the time dismissed that theory—it was only five-thirty, far too early for Chocolate's breakfast.

Jenkins had since moved into the second-floor bedroom, though sleeping on the bed felt much the same as sleeping on the floor had. Dawn came much earlier in the early spring, but at half-past five, no morning light was yet visible. The curtains were drawn tight. Realizing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, Jenkins slipped out of bed, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway, leaving the cat stubbornly sprawled on the covers.

The hallway was unlit. He felt his way down the stairs in the dark, not bothering to change out of his pajamas, merely throwing on a coat before heading out of the house.

The crowing came from the Goodmans' house next door. Standing under the eaves of his home, Jenkins peered over and spotted a spirited, red-combed rooster perched atop the tall fence that separated the two yards.

Noticing Jenkins's gaze, the rooster flapped its wings, hopped down from the fence, and strutted across half the yard. It hopped onto the abandoned cat house Jenkins had set out for Chocolate—which the cat had never once used—detoured around the tree left by the previous owner, trampled over the newly sprouted lawn, and came to a stop directly in front of Jenkins, tilting its head up to look at him.

A few minutes later, still in his pajamas and slippers, Jenkins was ringing the bell on the Goodmans' fence gate. He hadn't bothered picking up the rooster; it had obediently followed at his heels.

The Goodmans were likely still asleep. The bell rang for quite some time before a bleary-eyed Mr. Goodman finally opened his door. The fence blocked his view of the rooster behind Jenkins, so he simply assumed his neighbor needed something.

"Oh, Tommy, what are you doing here?" he exclaimed. "My apologies, Mr. Williams. It looks little guy has been causing you some trouble." This update ıs available on novel✦fire.net

With that, he opened the gate and deftly scooped up the bird. The rooster, now identified as "Tommy," seemed reluctant but allowed Mr. Goodman to hold it.

While Jenkins didn't exactly approve of keeping such a creature as a pet, it was, indeed, a pet rooster. The Goodmans themselves wouldn't keep one, of course; they were temporarily looking after it for a relative from the countryside.

Tommy was supposed to be in a cage in the kitchen, but someone had forgotten to latch it after feeding him last night. He had escaped from the kitchen into the first-floor living room, left a few disgusting droppings on the sofa, and then squeezed out through a study window, just in time to wake up the neighbor.

Mr. Goodman apologized for the rooster's inconsiderate behavior, but Jenkins just waved it off, saying it was nothing.

He turned to leave, wondering if he could still catch a nap before heading to the train station to welcome his family back from their trip, but Mr. Goodman called out to him again.

"Mr. Williams, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Jenkins had always had a good impression of the Goodman family. He particularly recalled encountering Mr. Goodman's reflection in the mirror world; it had been exceptionally weak, a sure sign of a healthy psyche and an optimistic outlook on life.

Jenkins said, his eyes drifting to the pet rooster now scurrying about the yard. He had no idea how Chocolate would react to the bird, but he imagined it would be with utter disdain.

"You only moved to this street last fall. The thing is, the neighbors organize a gathering every year, usually around this time."

As he spoke, the middle-aged man pointed down the street in the direction of Number One, St. George Avenue.

"That's the Bell family—Mr. Bell is a lawyer. They've lived on this street for over a decade, and they're the ones who organize the neighborhood gathering. The agenda is usually to re-sign the 'Good Neighbor Agreement,' discuss how to divvy up the community service fees for the new year, and get to know the new neighbors. You see, quite a few people moved in and out of this street last year."

The 'Good Neighbor Agreement' was a voluntary, self-governing charter drawn up by the residents of St. George Avenue. It included articles such as "no keeping large dogs," "no renting out houses for parties," and "keeping one's lawn tidy." While there were no fines for non-compliance, no one wanted to be ostracized by their own community, so everyone made a point of abiding by the rules.

When Jenkins had moved in, the previous owner had handed him the agreement along with the deed to the house. In accordance with Article Nine, "Regarding the Move-In of New Community Residents," Jenkins had gone to Number One, St. George Avenue to procure his own copy of the charter.

The community service fee was a fund established to cover services not yet provided by the city's municipal works. Paid annually, it hired people to clear snow in the winter and fallen leaves in the autumn. A portion also went to Dr. Colson, who lived at the end of the street, as a medical fund.

The use of the money was overseen by all the residents. Since it was paid yearly, Jenkins was still covered by the fee the previous owner had paid, but he still received a monthly statement detailing the remaining balance of the community service fund.

"No problem," Jenkins said, his gaze fixed on Mr. Goodman's lawn. "When is the gathering? I'll need to clear my schedule. I've been incredibly busy lately."

"Oh, I ran into Mr. Bell yesterday evening. He said it would probably be next week and that he'd be sending out invitations."

After he said this, Mr. Goodman glanced around conspiratorially, as if suspecting a nosy neighbor might be lurking in the bushes, before lowering his voice to speak to Jenkins.

"Mr. Williams, I've heard that everyone plans to ask you about the allocation of the service fees at the gathering. Your house now occupies both its original lot and the one that belonged to poor Mrs. Margaret. Some of the neighbors think you should pay two shares in Gold Pounds... You'll want to be prepared for that."

"I understand," Jenkins replied. "To be honest, that makes sense."

He nodded, having no real issue with the matter. The neighbors had a point. He did occupy the space of two houses, and it was only reasonable that he shoulder the community responsibilities of two households.

Hearing Jenkins say this, Mr. Goodman immediately declared him a truly generous neighbor. At the same time, however, he also hinted that if Jenkins really didn't want to pay the extra share, he would certainly support him in front of the others.