That was the answer. Jenkins had been absolutely right.
When that Miss Carl ca to the Church for help, she revealed her identity from before she was cursed with "immortality." So, when Papa Oliver noticed sothing amiss with the ring last week, he imdiately contacted the Church to speak with her. After a long period of reflection, the woman finally dredged up a mory of this type of ring from the hazy corners of her mind.
"These rings were created by the Carl family to celebrate the birth of the next generation's heir, a set of ten in total. And that very heir was the one the family chose to kill a divinely blessed lovebird in an attempt to gain extraordinary power. A ring so closely tied to the Carl royal family should never have escaped divine punishnt. So there's sothing wrong here, very wrong."
Papa Oliver nodded, his expression serious as he put the ring away.
"But no matter what, Jenkins, this has nothing to do with you. You watch the shop. I think I need to make another trip to the Church. Even though Miss Bevanna and the others are swamped with their duties, I believe the issue with these rings is far more severe!"
Papa Oliver was a man of action. He soon left the shop with the box of rings and headed back to the Church. He hadn't given Jenkins any specific tasks for the day, so Jenkins was effectively free to do as he pleased.
"If I leave, the antique shop won't see a single custor all day. That would be quite a loss..."
He thought to himself, glancing over at his cat. While the feline could certainly watch the shop and deter thieves, it couldn't speak, making it impossible for it to converse with custors and haggle over prices.
As if sensing Jenkins’s thoughts, Chocolate stood up from his cushion, arched his back with a few indignant ows, and then casually began to lick his paws.
"Alright then, we'll close for the day. It's highly unlikely Papa Oliver will be back today."
Having made his decision, he too left the shop, carrying the lazy cat as he headed for ho. Of course, he had no intention of wasting the entire day at ho. He wanted to find his neighbor, Silver Flute Miss, and ask her about the specifics of the ring she had tried to sell last week.
He tried to spot her aura from a distance, but unfortunately, Silver Flute Miss was not ho; there was no trace of an Enchanter in her house. Jenkins considered entering directly to look for clues, but imdiately felt that breaking into a neighbor's house so rashly would be terribly impolite.
He could, of course, find the old elf and contact his friend, Mr. Halama Rynsarm, but Jenkins wasn't sure if he truly wanted to get involved in this matter.
Rembering his newly acquired ability, he decided he wanted to stock up on a supply of bone powder to carry with him. So, for the ti being, he gave up on searching for the elusive Silver Flute Miss and instead headed toward the entrance of the black market.
With Skryu Pompey defeated by the Church, the once-deserted black market had returned to its forr bustling state. At the entrance bar, the bartender handed Jenkins a ssage, informing him that a letter had arrived at his fake address.
He was quite curious who would contact him at this address. It was only after taking the envelope that he realized it was from Mr. Black Cat.
"He just told about the Corpse Gentleman's estate in Turin last week. Does he have new information so soon?"
Jenkins was surprised, but upon opening the letter, he found it wasn't about the Turin estate at all. It was about the investigation he had commissioned Mr. Black Cat to conduct on Miss Stevel.
The letter's contents were simple, yet terrifying:
[Mr. Candle:
Run! The woman you asked to investigate found ! She didn't harm , but she took the letter you sent! Run! It looks like she's heading to Nolan to find you! That woman is terrifyingly strong! She must be a demigod! She didn't hurt , I'm fine, but you need to run! Find a safe place to hide before you write back!]
Reading the letter, Jenkins instinctively glanced around the bar, half-expecting a strange woman to be smiling at him. But on a Sunday morning, the bar was nearly empty. Anyone who did walk in was likely just like him, using it as a secret entrance to the underground market.
Jenkins looked down at the letter again, a thick sense of disbelief washing over him.
"Mr. Black Cat found Miss Stevel that easily? This..."
He couldn't describe the feeling. It was like struggling to give Chocolate a bath, only to realize he could have simply lured the cat into the washroom with a few tasty snacks.
Of course, that was just a taphor. With Chocolate's cunning, the black-and-white kitten would never fall for such a low-level trap.
"Could it be that Miss Stevel was keeping a close watch on Nolan, so she noticed sothing was amiss right away? But what is the conflict between her and Papa Oliver? Why is everyone so reluctant to talk about his past apprentices?"
These were questions that couldn't be answered by re thought. Although the letter from Mr. Black Cat repeatedly warned him to run, Jenkins wasn't worried about Miss Stevel finding him.
On the contrary, he was rather looking forward to eting this mysterious woman and perhaps learning sothing about the past Papa Oliver refused to speak of.
He wrote a reply to Mr. Black Cat, telling him not to worry and apologizing for the sowhat dangerous commission. Mr. Black Cat had left Nolan precisely to avoid danger, and now, because of Jenkins's request, he had been dragged into trouble. Jenkins felt incredibly guilty about it.
After sending the letter, he entered the underground black market. Bone powder was a relatively common material. If not for his desire to keep his necromantic abilities hidden from the Church, Jenkins could have bought it directly from them, where it would have been cheaper and more convenient than in the black market.
He also restocked so other materials while he was at it, hoping for a chance to stumble upon a hidden gem, but alas, such opportunities continued to elude him.
Soothing the cat, who was displeased by the sll of the sewers, he planned to make one more round and then leave, getting back to the antique shop before lunch to create the illusion that he had been watching the store all morning. As he craned his neck to inspect a batch of old porcelain shards, the cat in his pocket let out a soft ow.
Jenkins jumped, imdiately assuming that Chocolate's nose had picked up an unusual scent. After repeatedly checking with his Eye of Reality and still finding nothing of value, he finally realized it had only been the sleeping kitten muttering in its dreams.
"He's fallen asleep again..."
He gently rubbed the small face peeking out of his pocket with his fingertip. The cat, in its sleep, instinctively raised a paw and pushed Jenkins's finger away.
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