This "short story" told the tale of how Ince Zangwill betrayed the Church and stole the Sealed Artifact—the feather quill. It also detailed the pen's abilities. Aside from the incident involving the theft of a Saint's ashes—which hadn't happened yet—the story practically stripped Ince down to his last shred of dignity.
As for the follow-up piece, "Ince Zangwill's Sches and Ambitions", Edward already had a full draft prepared in his mind. As soon as the first piece was published, he'd imdiately follow up with the second, pressing forward step by step—he didn't believe that Ince, this lousy screenwriter, could keep his narrative intact under such pressure without coming out of hiding!
The editor-in-chief took the manuscript Edward handed over and frowned.
"But we usually finalize the newspaper content at least a week in advance."
He glanced down at the contents of the page. A trace of surprise gradually appeared in his gray eyes. He picked up his fountain pen and quickly jotted a few notes in his notebook.
"Heh…this is interesting."
Soon, however, his brow furrowed again. "But the writing is a bit poor. It needs so polishing. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Edward?"
"…Feel free."
"Then just wait for tomorrow's paper."
———
The next morning.
Soone knocked on Edward's door. When he opened it, it was Steven.
"What is it, Mr. Green?"
"Well…the editor just sent word that the printing press at the newspaper broke down last night. They're repairing it now."
"The printing press broke?"
"Yeah. They said it was old and poorly maintained."
"Got it. Thank you."
"Haha, no problem at all."
As soon as Steven left, Edward's expression darkened.
As expected, it wasn't going to be that easy.
The printing press had definitely been wrecked by Ince Zangwill's forced intervention—again.
"So, you don't want too many people to find out about the quill either, huh? Good…That actually makes this simpler."
Edward swiftly freshened up, opened a can of food for Lilith, and added a bowl of dried fish before locking up and heading to Backlund once again.
———
[Cherwood Borough—the rented flat shared by Xio and Fors]
After knocking for a while, the door finally opened to reveal Fors, looking utterly exhausted. She had a fountain pen in her hand, her hair was ssy, and her eyes were rimd with dark circles. Clearly, she hadn't slept well.
"Oh, it's you…Yaaawn…" She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Don't look at like that. After three all-nighters in a row, I bet you wouldn't look any better than I do."
Edward followed her into the flat and glanced at the thick stack of manuscript paper on her desk in surprise.
"Didn't expect to see Miss Fors working this hard."
"Oh, co on. I might be a little…"
She pinched her thumb and forefinger together to indicate "a tiny bit", "…lazy on normal days, but when I've agreed on a deadline with an editor, I always submit my manuscript on ti. Let tell you, all novelists are forged under pressure—you can't write a decent story until the last possible mont."
Fors leaned back against the desk, picked up a half-cup of cold coffee, and downed it in one go. That perked her up a bit.
"Xio already went out early this morning. If you're looking for her, you'll have to co back another ti."
"No, I'm here to see you."
"?" Fors scratched her head, puzzled.
"Miss Fors, as a published novelist, do you happen to know anyone at a newspaper in Backlund? Ahem, I know publishing houses and newspapers aren't the sa thing, but they might have so overlap, right?"
Fors lit a slim lady's cigarette and crushed the empty box before tossing it into the trash bin.
"In fact, quite a few publishers in Backlund also run newspapers. For instance, the publishing house I submit to also puts out The Backlund Morning Post every day. What's up?"
"It's like this—I have a short story I'd like to publish in a newspaper."
This ti, Edward handed over the version that had been edited by the Tingen City Honest Paper's chief editor. He added, "I don't need a big section—just treat it as a paid advertisent. Of course, I'll compensate you as well. Oh, and I'll need to borrow a printer to make about…3,000 copies first."
Fors gave him a strange look.
"You're thinking of switching to writing novels too?"
"Not really. It's just a personal hobby. Here's 20 pounds—as thanks for your help."
Fors's eyes lit up.
"Perfect. I just ran out of cigarettes. I'll go buy a pack and get this done for you. Wait here."
"Alright."
———
Fors worked quickly. Around an hour later, she returned—but behind her followed a well-dressed woman with an angry expression on her face.
Cigarette in hand, Fors sighed and said to the woman with exasperation, "Miss Jessica, I'm going ho. If you're here to visit, you're welco. But if you're here to argue, then I'll have to ask you to leave."
The woman snapped resentfully, "Don't think just because you've published a few novels, you can slander other people's work as you please. I swear—I swear I'll write a novel ten tis better than yours! I'll prove to you that the characters I create are nothing like what you say. The insult you gave today—I'll pay it back a hundredfold!"
"I sincerely wish you success."
Fors handed Edward a receipt.
"All done. I secured you a decent ad slot, scheduled for three days from now. As for the 3,000 printed copies, they'll only be ready tonight—it's a rush job, so the cost is a lot higher than normal."
"Totally understandable. Thank you."
If the prints would only be ready by evening, that gave him the perfect window to drop by the Eye of Wisdom's Beyonder gathering first.
Edward glanced at the retreating figure of the woman from earlier. "That person just now was…"
"She's a writer too. But none of the books she's written so far have been accepted for publication." Fors lit another cigarette and leaned against the desk. "When I went to the publishing house earlier, the editor-in-chief asked to look over a submission. Honestly, the story itself wasn't bad—but the characters were terribly written. Like emotionless puppets, existing solely to move the plot along. So I suggested the author focus on improving character developnt…"
She shrugged.
"And it turns out, the author of that submission was Miss Jessica. She thinks I deliberately insulted her and blocked her chances of being published."
"I see."
Edward nodded thoughtfully. Looks like every industry has its own share of ssy drama.
"Did you manage to gather all your potion ingredients?"
Fors had finally scraped together enough money not long ago to buy the Trickmaster formula from Edward.
"Yeah."
Fors leaned against the desk, her gaze drifting through the open door toward the sky.
"After tonight, I should be able to brew the potion and advance to Sequence 8."
As she spoke, her slender fingers unconsciously clenched tight, pale skin drawn taut over visible veins.
"Tonight?"
Edward quickly realized—tonight was the night of the monthly crimson full moon, which also ant it was Fors's monthly day of tornt—the day she listened to the whispers of Mr. Door.
Hopefully the full moon wouldn't affect him again this ti.
But even if it did, with Klein watching over things, it shouldn't be a big problem.
Edward lowered his head, thinking for a mont, then asked, "Could you give so paper and a pen?"
"?"
Fors handed him so manuscript paper and a fountain pen, puzzled. Edward scribbled a few lines, folded the paper into a neat triangle, and handed it to her with unusual seriousness.
"If…soday you find yourself in a truly life-threatening situation, open this. It might save your life."
Fors looked even more surprised.
"Why are you saying this all of a sudden?"
"You'll understand later. I'll say this again—only open it in a truly critical mont. Of course, nothing bad will happen if you open it now…it's just that your mindset now and your mindset then will be very different. Reading it early would just confuse you and cause unnecessary doubt."
Fors stared at Edward for a long mont, then pointed toward the door and scoffed:
"Go back to Riddler Town, you damn mystery man!"
"Hahaha, alright—see you later~"
Fors stared at the folded triangle of paper in her hand, visibly torn. After a mont of internal struggle, she let out a long breath and tossed it into her desk drawer.
"Out of sight, out of mind! I'm already deep in debt from buying those potion ingredients—back to writing, back to writing!"
———
8:00 P.M.
Edward arrived on schedule at Iron Gate Street to attend the Eye of Wisdom's Beyonder gathering. He knocked in the designated pattern as listed in the paper. As expected, the sa man from last ti led him inside.
By the ti he entered the lounge, most of the attendees had already arrived. The old detective gave the room a once-over and announced the start of the eting.
The chubby apothecary was, once again, the first to speak. As usual, he was seeking to buy the Marrow Crystals from the Spring of the Elves. Last ti, at least that guy nad Black Snake had mocked him a little—this ti, no one responded at all.
"Damn it. It's not even that rare of an item! Why the hell is it so hard to find?"
He grumbled a few curses and took out his usual potions to try and sell. But maybe because the custors from last ti hadn't finished using what they bought, his business tonight was even colder.
Seeing this, Edward gave up on the idea of selling another batch of potions tonight.
"Ugh…It's getting harder and harder to make a living as a potion-maker these days."
"Oh, co on. You're in Backlund—the City of Hope. You think there are that many conflicts here? If you want to make money selling potions, go sowhere chaotic. I hear Sonia Sea or Bayam is perfect. Pirates there would love your business," Black Snake said with a smirk.
"You think I don't want to? It's just not the right ti yet."
"Hahaha, I'll be there to collect your corpse when it is."
"Shut up, bastard."
The chubby apothecary was clearly having a bad night. Usually, he was the one lashing out with sarcasm—how had the tables turned tonight.
Of course, Black Snake had no idea what the apothecary was thinking. He straightened his neck slightly and called out,
"Hey! That friend from last ti—are you still here? The one who wanted to buy my Taunting Doll!"
———
[Note]: I'll post an Extra Chapter if we reach 110 Powerstones by tomorrow. Go, VOTE!
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