Although Jenkins had been mixed up with the Living Corpse Jewel, Papa Oliver forbade him from getting involved in the investigation. To distract him, he’d specially found two thick tomes for Jenkins to read: "Advanced Appraisal of Metalwork: Antiques Around Us" and "Mastering Fire Rituals," demanding he submit his notes by Sunday.
But it was already Friday, which meant Jenkins would have absolutely no time for anything else in the coming days.
“Have you considered getting away for a bit?”
Papa Oliver asked suddenly. He had realized that getting Jenkins away from Nolan City for a short while would probably be good for everyone.
“I've been wanting to visit Shire City and see Old Jack. Remember that woman with the awakened ancient bloodline? I want to ask Old Jack about some potions.”
Papa Oliver hesitated at that. While the matter could still lead Jenkins into trouble, it was at least far less dangerous than the Skull Sword of the Departed Soul, A-12-1-0044.
And so, he enthusiastically recommended that Jenkins leave the following week, not forgetting to remind him to check the train schedules soon.
“Perhaps you could stay in Shire City for a few extra days. Old Jack would like that.”
Papa Oliver suggested kindly.
By the time the job was finished, it was already around half-past eleven. The streets remained so shrouded in fog, however, that one could hardly tell it was midday.
During lunch, Papa Oliver and Jenkins discussed the undead. It was a broad term, he explained; theoretically, any monster reanimated from a corpse could be called undead. True necromancy, however, was not the superficial art of controlling corpses, but the study of the mysteries of death itself.
Of course, Papa Oliver was no expert on the subject. In fact, his knowledge of the undead was only slightly more advanced than Jenkins's. But he recommended several reference books to Jenkins, noting that as a Level 3 Enchanter, he could now access the deeper levels of the Secret Trace Library.
Perhaps because of yesterday's major incident, Nolan City was unusually peaceful today. The workday at Pops Antique Shop passed without any trouble. Though they made no sales, Jenkins was pleased that his errand to deliver a letter for Papa Oliver went smoothly.
Leaving work in high spirits, he bid Papa Oliver farewell but didn't head straight home. Instead, he took a carriage to a small tavern on the outskirts of the city.
The tavern was tucked away in an inconspicuous alley, so it wasn't very crowded. As Jenkins pushed the door open, he immediately spotted Professor Burns sitting at a table against the wall. The professor was wearing an old-fashioned, checkered blue shirt, his formal jacket draped over the back of his chair. Judging by the style, it was the same shirt he wore for lectures; he must have come straight from class.
On the table in front of him, next to his glass, sat three common kitchen spice jars.
“Professor, it's been a while!”
Jenkins walked over quickly, and after a brief greeting, went to the bar to order some food and a drink. He didn't forget a saucer of warm milk for Chocolate, who always enjoyed such treats.
“It has been a while, Jenkins.”
The professor gestured for Jenkins to sit, then motioned toward the three jars on the table.
“Fine salt, low-quality sugar cubes, and flour. Which one do you think I should choose?”
“You should choose... huh? Flour?”
Jenkins paused. “What are you planning to do, if I may ask?”
“I've just ordered a steak. I hear that besides salt or sugar, sprinkling a bit of flour on it is the latest trend.” ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by NoveIＦire.net
“And where did you hear that?”
As he spoke, Jenkins pointed to the salt shaker. The professor nodded and put the other two jars back into his brown leather briefcase.
“My students told me. Apparently, it's a new fad that started in Saddell County. It's quite strange, isn't it?”
“It is strange indeed. Young people these days are so fond of pursuing peculiar things to show off their individuality, yet they fail to realize that the true way to let the light of their soul shine has nothing to do with such odd behaviors.”
The professor clapped from across the table, then leaned back and gestured for the waiter to bring their food.
“By the way, Professor, why do you carry your own seasonings?”
Chocolate was already padding over to the saucer of milk.
“I've had a bit of an accident recently.”
He gave an embarrassed smile. “I was too careless, and now I have a curse attached to me. It's temporarily dulled my sense of taste, so I have to bring extra seasonings just to make the food palatable.”
He shook the salt shaker vigorously, letting the fine grains fall onto his steak. In this day and age, the development of steam power had spurred growth in other industries as well. As far as Jenkins knew, the price of salt had dropped significantly compared to a century ago.
But the kind of refined salt the professor was using was still incredibly expensive, which suggested that his income was quite respectable.
The two were meeting here today for this month's gathering hosted by the Corpse Gentleman. Jenkins had missed January's meeting due to a scheduling conflict, but he didn't want to give up on the group, which was why he had come tonight.
On their way to the abandoned hospital outside the city, their conversation turned to the events of the previous day. The professor had also heard the news that the deadly sword had reappeared. He had been a middle-aged man thirty years ago when the plague had raged, so he understood the terror of that time all too well.
The professor also described what had happened after Jenkins's first escape from the alley. No one had expected that Wilkawang could slip away from the encirclement of so many demigods.
“This is very dangerous,” the professor continued. “Miss Bevanna believes the man's level is still quite low, yet he can already accomplish such a feat. As time passes and he advances to new levels, Nolan City will face an even more formidable enemy.”
Unfortunately, the tornado had destroyed most of the evidence, so the Church had no idea why Wilkawang had been there or why he had clashed with the followers of the God of Lies. In other words, apart from Jenkins, no one knew that Wilkawang had arranged to meet someone in the inn near that alley to discuss certain secrets.
And so, the young duke from a foreign land had managed to escape by a stroke of luck.
“But I'll report him when I get back,” Jenkins thought. “I won't let their conspiracy succeed.”
It was an act of justice, he mused, and perhaps he could even learn Wilkawang's true identity from the duke.