He hadn't found sleep until three in the morning, finally drifting off in front of his fireplace, yet he still woke on time for work. As he ate breakfast, the events of the previous night felt like a dream, but Jenkins couldn't fool himself.
His exhaustion was impossible to hide, and when he arrived at Pops Antique Shop, he found that Papa Oliver had somehow, miraculously, already learned everything that had transpired.
Perhaps because Jenkins had been out for a legitimate social engagement rather than aimlessly wandering the city, Papa Oliver didn't reprimand him for his connection to the incident. Instead, he simply had Jenkins rest upstairs for the entire morning, only allowing him to come down, stretching lazily, when it was time for lunch.
Chocolate stretched its paws out too, eyes narrowed to a thin line, its little whiskers twitching.
"I have. A short rest was all I really needed."
Jenkins yawned again and casually straightened a vase on a nearby cabinet.
There was no question about what had happened the previous night. All the Church could do was continue investigating the cause of the woman's bizarre transformation. From what he had observed, her body had already mutated into something monstrous. Though she still maintained a humanoid shape, she could no longer be considered human.
"An awakening of an ancient bloodline, most likely."
This was Papa Oliver's assessment, and he didn't seem at all surprised by the matter.
During lunch, he spotted a newspaper on the counter. After flipping through a few pages, he found an article about the opera's preview—just a short, photo-less block of text. Jenkins didn't care for the specific words of praise, but knowing the general consensus was positive, he was finally able to put his mind at ease.
Mr. Nelly had yet to finalize the date of the premiere with the opera house, but it was expected to be no later than the start of spring. At the tail end of the frozen winter, the opera by the great author Williamette would be presented to the audiences of Nolan City.
Monday was the usual slow day for business. Aside from Jenkins heading three streets over to collect a debt in the afternoon, nothing of note occurred.
In the evening, he continued his studies with Miss Bevanna and also ran into Captain Bincy, with whom he discussed the city's security. He had his usual chance encounter with Fini; she and a few other children from the choir were hugging stacks of books as they followed an old cleric toward the library.
Jenkins didn't disturb her, instead standing in the corridor some distance away. He held Chocolate, took its right forepaw, and gave a little wave. The children all giggled. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novelFirｅ.net
Chocolate sounded quite displeased.
As he was about to leave the church grounds, he ran into Professor Burns at the entrance. It was already ten o'clock at night, and Jenkins was surprised to see him at such a late hour, knowing the professor taught an Ancient Literature Appreciation course every Tuesday morning.
"Just the man I was looking for."
The professor said this, already turning to walk away. Jenkins understood immediately: he had something to say that couldn't be overheard by the Church.
The two walked out onto the street. They paused for a few seconds under a streetlamp, scanning the area, before ducking into a dim alley. Emerging from the other end onto a street with no lamps, they stopped at the mouth of the alley, a spot where they could easily survey their surroundings, and began to speak.
"I've been meaning to find you since the last gathering with that certain gentleman, but I've been swamped recently."
The last gathering held by the Corpse Gentleman had coincided with Mr. Hood's, and when forced to choose, Jenkins had decisively skipped the former. The professor had promised to pass along any messages for him.
Professor Burns was wearing a familiar long, khaki overcoat and a black hat. He seemed to be in good spirits, though he also appeared a bit on edge.
"Nothing of note happened at the gathering. At the end, that certain gentleman simply reminded us to be wary of the fog on the city's outskirts lately."
The night wind at the mouth of the alley was cold, and both Jenkins and the professor huddled into their collars, making their voices tremble as they spoke.
"The outskirts? Just the fog on the outskirts?"
Jenkins keenly caught the crucial detail.
"Yes. That certain gentleman warned us not to come into contact with the fog on the city's periphery at night. He said it now contains countless indescribable, terrifying elements—a combined result of mortal sin, nature's retribution, the schemes of Enchanters, and the influence of supernatural items. At the very least, it's more troublesome than the vampiric aberrations."
"Oh, that's truly..."
Jenkins was so stunned he was at a loss for words. The climax of the vampire incident had nearly drawn a Beast of Calamity from a long-dead Epoch out of the moon.
"So the Church... Oh, Professor! I swear I'll have that paper to you before next week, just give me a little more time! The ladies are just so... enthusiastic, you know? I shouldn't have spent all my energy on..."
A drunkard staggered toward them from down the street, bracing himself against the wall. He seemed to pay no mind to Jenkins's performance, simply rounding the corner and disappearing from view. Half a minute later, the sound of retching echoed from half a block away. Both Jenkins and the professor wrinkled their noses in disgust.
"Does the Church know about this? The fog, I mean."
"Of course. The fog outside the city is highly unusual. The Church took notice of it at the start of the year."
All sorts of things happened in Nolan City every day, and what Jenkins knew was merely the tip of the iceberg. Generally, he only became aware of matters that either concerned him directly or posed a threat to the entire city.
Of course, more often than not, the two were one and the same.
"After getting the warning from that certain gentleman, I made a point of looking into it within the Church. I can now confirm that the ring of fog surrounding the city isn't just simple air pollution. There are smaller, even imperceptible, particles mixed within it. We don't know if this substance is artificial or natural, but it's undoubtedly dangerous."
The professor's tone was grave. He and Jenkins both glanced at the thin mist swirling around them. Such haze was common on city nights—a normal "spectacle" in a city with such a highly developed steam industry.
"Can the Church clear it away?"
"At its root, the Air Protection Act could solve the problem, but you can guess the thoughts of the kingdom's nobles and parliamentarians on that. In the short term, it's difficult to clear away. At least, the Church hasn't found a suitable method yet. We would need to intervene in the kingdom's national policies to eliminate this threat, but doing so would be about as difficult as placing someone else on the throne."