It was barely ten in the morning when he left the church. With plenty of time before lunch, Jenkins hailed a carriage and made his way to the school where Professor Burns taught.
He arrived just as classes were letting out for lunch. The gatekeeper recognized him from the speech he had given last year to expose the Fabry fraud and waved him through without a word.
Keeping his head low to avoid drawing attention, Jenkins blended in easily. His build and bearing were close enough to a student's that no one gave him a second glance. He found the joint office for the history and archaeology departments without any trouble, but Professor Burns was nowhere to be seen.
An elderly gentleman at a desk near the professor's informed Jenkins that Burns had a morning class and wasn't expected back until noon.
He finally caught sight of the professor at the entrance of the newly painted office building. Jenkins, growing impatient, had been about to head to the classroom to wait, but just then, he saw the professor approaching, directing two young men who were carrying several specimens.
The professor gave Jenkins a nod, instructed his students to take the items to his office, and then led him down a small path that wound behind the building, coming to a stop amidst a thicket of shrubs.
"So, you're back," the professor began. "I heard Miss Bevanna traveled all the way to the mountains to find you. It sounds like you ran into some trouble."
It seemed word of his ordeal in the mountains had spread far and wide.
"It was a dreadful trip, to say the least. We encountered... Let's not get into it. I'd rather not dredge up those awful memories, though I still have to write the report."
"Jenkins, fate has its designs," the professor said gently. "Some might call that a pessimistic view of life, but as Enchanters, we know that what people call 'destiny' is a very real force. Now then, what brings you here?"
The professor finally remembered to ask about the purpose of his visit.
"Yes. I was at the post office this morning and picked up this month's 'Medical Outlook on Tropical Diseases.' The meeting is scheduled for Sunday night. But I have something else that evening, so I'm afraid you'll have to go alone this time. I was hoping, however..." Follow current novels on novel⁂fire.net
"I understand," the professor cut in. "I'll pass along any news from the Corpse Gentleman. Nolan has been chaotic lately. Let's hope he can offer some useful advice."
As it happened, Sunday night was also when Mr. Hood held his gathering. The scheduling conflict Jenkins had long feared had finally materialized. After a moment of consideration, he decisively chose to forgo the meeting with the Corpse Gentleman.
The demigod Enchanter and that eerie, abandoned hospital had always left him feeling an immense sense of pressure.
When Jenkins presented his new book to the professor, Burns offered him a small gift in return—both as a reciprocal gesture and as a token of thanks for the speech he'd given at the school late last year.
The gift was a heavy, square red box. At first glance, Jenkins assumed it was wood, but the cool, smooth surface felt unmistakably like stone.
"B-06-4-2207, the Lonesome One's Gift Box," the professor explained. "It's a type of Extraordinary item that exists in multiples; anyone might unearth one from below sea level. If you open it during a holiday, or on a day that holds special significance for you, you'll receive a small gift. The item inside will always be smaller than the box itself, but its contents are completely random. You might get a sweet piece of bread, or you might get a priceless artifact."
"Isn't this... far too valuable?" Jenkins stammered.
Jenkins tried to hand it back to the professor.
"Though the boxes themselves are rare, most of the items they produce are quite ordinary, with little value."
The professor shook his head, motioning for Jenkins to keep it. "But I must warn you: while the contents are always a 'gift,' a nasty surprise is still a gift. It has a danger rating of 4 for a reason. Someone was once killed when they opened one and found A-11-02-3488, 'Mr. Prankster's Prank Bomb,' inside. So, be careful. Now, take it. I think you'll enjoy it."
Even if the professor claimed it wasn't particularly valuable, it was still a numbered item. On the black market, it would fetch a starting price of no less than ten gold pounds.
Seeing that refusal was futile, Jenkins accepted the box, resolving to give the professor a magnificent gift in return on the next holiday.
He hadn't even left the school grounds before his cat reminded him it was time for lunch. With that feline companion, Jenkins was unlikely to ever miss a meal.
They dined together at a restaurant on the banks of the Westminster River. It was his first time visiting the establishment, but the food was perfectly to his liking.
The prices, however, were rather steep. Even with his means, Jenkins felt a twinge of regret for his wallet when the bill arrived. As he counted out his money and considered the tip, he overheard patrons at the next table discussing the nearby Joël Bridge. He decided he would go take a look at the state of the repairs.
He had his own plans for the afternoon as well. Before Jenkins had left Nolan, his father, Robert Williams, had arranged a mining investment for him. A letter from Maidenhaven Road had arrived that very morning. Robert, having likely heard at church of Jenkins's return, had scheduled a meeting with the other investors, along with the silver mine's owner and manager, to sign the contracts on Maidenhaven Road.
The meeting was set for two o'clock, which left him some time to wander the neighborhood.
Some time had passed since the Joël Bridge was damaged. Nolan's city hall wasn't exactly famous for its efficiency, but it took the city's critical infrastructure seriously.
Jenkins strolled along a low wall bordering the street and arrived at the bridge. He saw it had already been reopened to traffic, though metal pipes and scaffolding still clung to the pier on the near side, suggesting the repairs had only just been completed in the last day or two.
He walked onto the bridge, tossing a silver coin to a woman begging at its entrance. He paused at the center, leaning against the railing to gaze out at the frozen expanse of the river. If past years were any indication, it would thaw sometime in early March, and the waterway would once again teem with vessels until the next winter.
This time, his idle wandering led to no chance encounters with acquaintances. He arrived on Maidenhaven Road on schedule to meet his new partners. Despite a few minor hitches, the contract signing went smoothly.
Jenkins officially invested thirty thousand gold pounds into a large silver mine in the mountains near Nolan, securing a three percent stake. The projected annual return was a staggering sixty thousand pounds.
The phenomenal return on investment wasn't indicative of a scam; rather, the favorable terms were due to two key factors. The first was Jenkins's current standing—his involvement implied that should the mine run into trouble, it might receive assistance from the Sage Church. The second was his father's hard work. Robert's career at the Smiths United Mining Company was flourishing, which gave him access to such lucrative opportunities.
In that regard, Jenkins was, through and through, a member of the privileged class.