"As for a way to offload them... what if we report them to the Orthodox Church, let them confiscate the lot, and then collect a reward? Would that count?"
Truth be told, he could have simply contacted Earl Hersha and sold the items to him. Jenkins still possessed some rather incriminating letters, which meant the Earl would have had no choice but to agree. But it was hard to say what the consequences of such an action might be, and besides, he had no desire to go anywhere near Hathaway's home right now for any reason.
"No, it would not. This is no time for jokes."
Jenkins was now genuinely curious. Just what kind of situation was this friend, introduced to the gathering by Magic Miss, in to be so desperate for money?
Since Jenkins was truly out of ideas and had already revealed his rather dangerous line of thinking—reporting the sensitive goods directly to the Church or the Stilwell Yard, which only handled cases in the Docklands—Silver Flute Miss had no choice but to come up with a plan herself.
She confessed that she might be able to find a suitable buyer, but that person wasn't necessarily in Nolan City. She hoped Jenkins would accompany her to properly dispose of the assets that belonged to them both.
"I must remind you," Jenkins stated, "neither of us has any plans to leave the city for good anytime soon. If this shipment falls into the hands of dangerous people, it will put us in a very bad position."
As she spoke, the woman stretched a hand toward the sky.
When she finished, she asked Jenkins, "Is that enough for you?"
"Of course. That's more than enough."
The God of Nobility and Order was a fairly powerful pseudo-god. Among all such deities, His followers certainly ranked in the top ten in number. The deity's strength lay not in the core domain of "Nobility," but in "Order."
Order was the cornerstone of human civilization—indeed, of any civilization—a crucial reason for the endurance of intelligent races. The God of Nobility likely chose not to make such a vital domain his core out of fear of being treated differently by other pseudo-gods, or even by the Righteous Gods themselves.
Although the God of Nobility had a significant number of human followers, this was indeed the first believer Jenkins had ever met. He suddenly found himself wondering how Magic Miss had come to know this woman. After all, their beliefs were not just completely different, but even somewhat contradictory.
The Religious Law stipulated that nobles who illegally engaged with or studied the mystical arts were to be punished more severely than commoners.
The buyer Silver Flute Miss contacted lived in a neighborhood not far from Jenkins's own St. George Avenue. But the residents there belonged to the truly wealthy class, a world apart from the middle-class inhabitants of his street.
She had Jenkins wait in the shadows beyond the lamplight, then went alone to ring the bell. She removed her hood, revealing her face as she spoke with a servant, while Jenkins could only catch a glimpse of her long, brown hair. Googlᴇ search novel fire.net
"So, she really is a woman."
The thought drifted idly through Jenkins's mind. The white cat, Chocolate, who had already climbed onto his shoulder, let out a yawn, utterly exhausted.
"Sorry, we'll be home soon after this deal is done. How about I buy you some tasty treats tomorrow?"
As he spoke, he stroked the cat's chin with the pad of his index finger. The cat let out a soft "meow," as if in agreement.
The sky had cleared, and the snow on the street reflected the ethereal moonlight. After a while, the owner of the house finally emerged with her bodyguards. She nodded to Silver Flute Miss, who nodded back and pulled her hood up again. Then, the group walked over to Jenkins.
The owner of the house was an acquaintance of his. He hadn't expected to find the noble lady here; he had assumed she was busy on the Windsor estate or in the royal capital, not that she also owned a house in town.
But he couldn't reveal his identity, no matter what. Reminding himself of this, he stepped out of the shadows and into the lamplight. Miss Windsor's bodyguards instinctively moved to block his path, but the aristocratic lady, with her innate air of nobility, immediately waved them back.
In truth, if Jenkins had wanted to cause trouble, no one here could have stopped him. Aside from Silver Flute Miss, who was of a slightly higher level, Miss Windsor's entourage included only two level-two Enchanters.
"Good evening, Mr. Candle."
Miss Windsor took the initiative to be friendly. She wore a cool-toned lady's overcoat with a black, plush-trimmed cloak. Her enthusiastic demeanor made it clear that Silver Flute Miss had already told her there was another partner in this transaction.
"Hello, to the lady whose name I do not know."
He said this, then turned away from them. "Let's go. I'd like to get this over with quickly."
Jenkins didn't know what sort of impression he was making on the noblewoman, but he could clearly sense her apprehension. Furthermore, during their walk, the young woman had subtly expressed her interest in recruiting him several times, but Jenkins had simply pretended not to understand.
Silver Flute Miss's perception of Jenkins came from Magic Miss. And while Magic Miss would never leak information about a follower of the God of Lies, she would certainly have mentioned that Mr. Candle was an extremely dangerous man.
For the nobility, recruiting a high-level Enchanter was an incredibly rare opportunity. Those who reached such a level of power were typically either sworn to the great Righteous Gods or were core members of a church dedicated to a pseudo-god or an evil one.
Mortals who attained great power without relying on a divine faction were so few as to be almost negligible.
The group soon returned to the warehouse. During the walk back, Jenkins informed the buyer that this was a "dog eat dog" kind of deal—so they could get a lower price, but the transaction had to be quick.
Miss Windsor, of course, wasn't concerned about a few gold pounds. After inspecting the goods, she readily handed two briefcases to Jenkins and Silver Flute Miss. Neither of them opened their case on the spot, but both privately believed the other had received a larger share.
"Miss Windsor knows Silver Flute Miss, after all," Jenkins reasoned to himself. "They'll likely work together more in the future, so it makes sense she'd get more."
"Mr. Candle is an incredibly powerful Enchanter," Silver Flute Miss thought. "He's certainly more valuable to Miss Windsor than I am. I hate to admit it, but it makes sense that he'd get the larger share."
These were, more or less, their respective thoughts.
They parted ways with the others at the warehouse entrance. With the cat on his shoulder, Jenkins took a roundabout path, braving the cold wind as he headed toward a pier in the docks, not toward home. Before long, he saw Magic Miss standing at the end of the pier.
She stood with her hands behind her back, facing the sea. The sound of the waves rose and fell, and the woman's long hair danced in the night wind, which seemed to roar its applause for her.
In the distance, the surface of the sea was dark and obscure, the horizon a blurred, indistinct line where night met water.
The moonlight seemed to gather around the woman, making the red and blue glows about her exceptionally clear. Starlight glittered above her head, while a faint mist draped over her like a white veil.
This scene, like the grand entrance of an opera's protagonist, was clearly not a natural phenomenon. Magic Miss was likely experimenting with a new ability or ritual.