"Perhaps the middle of next month would be a good time to announce the promotion. I heard they're also arranging my next baptism."
Jenkins calculated the dates, absently scribbling the tadpole-like text onto the paper, his eyes wandering unconsciously over the black and white photograph.
"Come to think of it, I still have no idea what this broken stone tablet is."
Only one stone tablet in this world had left a deep impression on him—the one he saw at the beginning of the new year, in the whispers of the Righteous God.
He had speculated about a connection between that tablet and the one in the photograph, but they were definitely not the same. If anyone had tried to capture that sacred and bizarre object with a camera, the device would have undoubtedly exploded on the spot.
"Stop rubbing your tail against the ink bottle."
He suddenly reached out and grabbed Chocolate's tail. The cat let out an aggrieved whimper and pitifully crawled back onto its mat.
Even though he felt he was in the right, the cat's reaction made Jenkins feel a pang of guilt. He reached out and stroked its back a couple of times, thinking he could stop by the nearby dessert shop at noon to buy it some expensive treats.
The eight thousand pounds from last night were now stashed in a compartment in his basement. He hadn't yet decided what to do with the money, but its arrival meant that the temporary emptiness of his wallet after investing in the mine had been nicely alleviated. The mine's profits were only paid out once a quarter.
"You remember that cursed man and woman, don't you? The ones connected to the love comb." Fresh chapters posted on novel※fire.net
"Of course. What about them? Has the Church agreed to help?"
"Based on their testimony, the Church found some clues in the library archives that basically confirm they weren't lying. But they still haven't decided whether to help them. I'm sure you understand—this matter involves another deity. We have to be cautious."
"I understand. It's just... I've noticed that we all still have memories of this, but the curse itself isn't supposed to allow outsiders to know about it."
"The curse's focus isn't on interfering with memory, but on the cycle within and without the painting. Even a mortal's power can affect changes in memory; that's not so difficult."
As Papa Oliver spoke, he turned the page of the book in his hands.
"This situation is tangled up in many other things. I estimate it might not be resolved even in three months. But the woman and the painting are still at the church. If you're still curious, you can apply to see her."
"No, I'm not curious."
Instinct told Jenkins it was best not to get involved in such a troublesome affair.
He thought for another moment, then asked:
"Since that woman has lived for so long, does that mean she knows secrets from many Epochs ago? Perhaps we could use that to supplement the Church's archives."
"It's not that simple, Jenkins. You might be overlooking something obvious: certain secrets cannot be widely disseminated, or both the speaker and the listener will be punished. As for matters that aren't secret, the Church already has records of them, they just aren't readily accessible. So, the woman has some value, but not much."
Papa Oliver paused here and let out a sigh.
"What I'm actually most curious about is how they managed to offend a deity to receive such a punishment. I've heard of great beings punishing mortals before, but I've never known a punishment so vici—ahem, I mean, so severe."
One must not speak ill of the gods; no mortal can transgress that rule. The word Papa Oliver had almost used was clearly inappropriate, so they both avoided the topic afterward.
After Jenkins finished transcribing the tadpole-like text, Papa Oliver temporarily set aside his book to guide him in studying some black powder.
Papa Oliver didn't say what the substance was; Jenkins's task was to figure out its name and purpose within two days.
"You can use any method you like, as long as you don't ask anyone else. I don't care about the process, only the result."
For now, Jenkins could only see the material's spiritual aura—its color and intensity—and use that to estimate its general price. This was a crucial first step, as price was closely related to rarity, and its rarity would determine which books Jenkins chose to consult.
At lunchtime, he bought a small piece of cake for his cat. Chocolate ate it with great satisfaction and spent the entire afternoon resting peacefully on the counter without causing any trouble.
Three glittering golden hairs swayed behind its ears. Seeing Chocolate feigning sleep with its eyes closed, Jenkins reached out and gently stroked the three strands, finding they felt no different from the rest of its fur.
"Chocolate, you have the ability to change the color of your fur. You didn't just conjure these three golden strands yourself, did you?"
He asked jokingly, but the cat didn't even open its eyes, too lazy to acknowledge him.
As he said this, Papa Oliver was in the back warehouse searching for something. A regular customer had visited the antique shop around noon and selected a copper-colored metal tea tray. In reality, it was made of an iron alloy and, according to Papa Oliver, was three hundred years old.
Now Papa Oliver was looking for the set of cups that matched the tray. Normally, such a tedious task would have fallen to Jenkins, but Papa Oliver had stored the cups in different places. If Jenkins were to look, he might not find them all by evening.
Just as he was teasing the cat, the shop's bell chimed as the door was pushed open. A woman in a thick cotton coat walked in. Her narrow eyes made her seem sharp and unkind, but that was merely a foolish and unreliable first impression.
"Good day, madam. Is there anything I can help you with?"
He immediately stopped playing with the cat and asked with a smile. A quick blink confirmed she was an ordinary person with nothing suspicious about her—just a regular customer.
She was a decisive customer. After two laps around the shop, she found an item she fancied. A deal was struck with Jenkins before Papa Oliver even returned from the warehouse.
This was ample proof that Jenkins had become a rather seasoned antique shop apprentice. After half a year, he had grown adept at his duties, whether they were for the world of Benefactors or that of ordinary people.
As evening approached, Captain Bincy paid a visit, delivering a black briefcase to Papa Oliver. He also informed Jenkins that Miss Bevanna's combat lesson was scheduled for that night, and that he shouldn't be late.