"Good morning, Mr. Goodman!"
"Good morning, Baron Williamette!"
They exchanged their usual greetings, a conversation that hadn't happened for some time since the incident with the evil god's child.
Jenkins noticed his neighbor had used "Baron" instead of "Mister," and he couldn't quite understand the reason for the change.
He was about to turn and head back into his house after the greeting, but then he saw Mr. Goodman, clutching his black briefcase, hurry over to the gate in front of Jenkins's home. Although the gardens of the two houses had been merged, both gates had been kept.
"Is there something else?"
He asked while pulling mail from the letterbox. A glance at the return address revealed it was from the old painter, Grant. The two had met once before Jenkins left Nolan City, but Grant had given no indication that he needed to contact him.
"I'm sorry to trouble you for a moment, but I actually have a question for you."
"Please, feel free to ask. We're good neighbors, after all. My house renovations must have disturbed you, haven't they?"
"Oh, it's . I have a few spare gold pounds on hand and I was thinking of investing in an invention mentioned in the paper."
As he spoke, he handed the page to Jenkins. A quick scan revealed a typical advertisement from an inventor seeking investors. The invention itself was named the "Multi-Functional, Semi-Automatic, Steam-Powered, Lever-Actuated, Multi-Tiered Clothes Hanger."
It took him nearly a full minute to successfully decipher the meaning of the name.
"I wanted to ask your opinion on whether this project is reliable, whether I should put money into it. Please don't feel troubled. I just need some advice, any advice at all."
After speaking, he looked at Jenkins with an earnest expression, as if expecting him to offer guidance like a sage from ancient mythology.
Jenkins was the God of Lies, not the God of Wealth; he couldn't answer such a question. He knew perfectly well why his kind neighbor was asking him—it was likely because the newspapers were still trumpeting his key role in the "Fabry Fraud."
The fame he had gained from that incident had completely eclipsed his reputation as a well-known author. Now, when people mentioned Jenkins Williams, the first thing that came to mind was the nobleman who had exposed a legendary scam.
In the end, Jenkins could only regretfully tell his neighbor, "Investing comes with risks; spend your money wisely." But Mr. Goodman wasn't disappointed at all. Instead, he departed in high spirits, as if he had just received a divine decree. Jenkins sincerely hoped his neighbor wouldn't fail in this investment game; after all, his previous neighbor was already dead.
Buying the widow Margaret's house meant that Mrs. Margaret's neighbors were now his neighbors. The adjacent house belonged to a merchant doing business in Nolan. He used to live on this street but hadn't moved back since the incident with the god's child. Jenkins had wanted to pay him a visit but never found the opportunity, so he had let it be.
Having just returned from afar yesterday, Papa Oliver had allowed Jenkins to rest for a day before returning to work. He had plenty to do today anyway; after a week away, many people and matters in Nolan City awaited him.
He flipped through the newspaper while eating breakfast and opened the painter's letter. Their collaboration on the "Stranger's Story Collection" had been a great success, but Jenkins had personally drawn the cover and illustrations for his second book using Psychography, so they had not worked together a second time.
The old painter's letter was a request for Jenkins to authorize the use of the previous illustrations in an art exhibition being held in Nolan City. A notice about the exhibition was in a corner of the newspaper, which he had overlooked earlier. Follow current novᴇls on NoveI(F)ire.net
Jenkins had purchased the illustrations some time ago, so according to current law, he held all the usage rights. The exhibition required participants to have proof of creation and the right to use the art, which was why old Grant had written to request authorization.
He took up a pen and wrote a reply along with a letter of authorization, then headed out with his cat. He first went to the post office to mail the letter, bought this month's issue of "Tropical Disease Medical Vanguard," and then, at the Quill & Ink Writers' Club, he met with Mr. Brol, the bookseller, and saw his new book, "Frozen."
After all this time—enough for demigods and unspeakable monsters to have died in droves—the book was finally being published.
Mr. Brol seemed very emotional, though it was hard to tell if it was because this project was finally complete or because he was seeing Jenkins again. When they first collaborated, the young man had been just an antique shop apprentice with nothing to his name. And while he was still an apprentice, his other titles had already elevated him to a status beyond the reach of most people in the city.
This time, Mr. Brol had brought an entire cardboard box of the new book so Jenkins could distribute copies to his friends. The cover, which Jenkins had drawn using Psychography, was simple in composition: two princesses stood on the edge of a cliff, gazing at a distant sunrise over vast, snow-capped mountains.
The art style was more realistic this time. After getting permission from Miss Stuart and Julia, he had based the characters' faces on their features. Even though Jenkins lacked any artistic talent, a convenient tool like Psychography made it easy—a single thought produced an image, and revisions were no trouble at all.
"Today is Saturday, and I plan to officially release the book on Monday. This time it's not just a Nolan City premiere, but a kingdom-wide launch! For some reason, even the kingdom's cultural department has been incredibly cooperative. The Sage be praised! The Traveler be praised!"
Mr. Brol announced excitedly, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief as he spoke. The temperature inside the club was high, which wasn't kind to a man of his build.
He was brimming with confidence now. If not for his limited distribution channels and Jenkins's own lack of interest, he would have dared to launch the book across the entire continent. In any case, he was absolutely certain the book would not be a poor seller.
The agreement for the new book had been signed long ago. This time, Mr. Brol wasn't just here to have Jenkins pick up the books; he also wanted to ask the young author if he was prepared to do a book signing.
This was a relatively new marketing method that had appeared in recent years. On one hand, it brought readers and authors closer together. On the other, it allowed certain young, handsome authors to use "advantages" beyond their writing skills to attract more readers.