Pushing open the partition door between the carriages, Jenkins passed through the sowhat narrow connecting passage into a completely different environnt. If the first carriage resembled a spacious, high-end jewelry store, the second was a cramped, dimly lit underground archive.
Towering bookshelves overwheld the entire carriage. They weren't even arranged in parallel rows, making the space even more chaotic than Pops Antique Shop. A few people were already standing in the narrow, crooked aisles. Soone noticed Jenkins arriving from the forward carriage, but no one approached him.
Unlike the first carriage with its magnificent crystal chandeliers and elegant gas sconces, the second was illuminated solely by glass-covered oil lamps. A supply of them sat in a corner near the entrance, free for anyone entering to take one.
"Alexia would have been thrilled to see this,"
he mused to himself. He opened the glass cover, carefully lit the wick with a match, and waited for the fla to steady before adjusting the knob to a suitable brightness. Only then did he venture into the maze of bookshelves with his cat.
Chocolate had never been one to devour books, so the cat was utterly uninterested. Jenkins, on the other hand, was fascinated. He walked slowly, scanning the text on the spines of the ancient tos. So of the scripts were entirely foreign to him, but this place was undeniably his kind of heaven.
"Perhaps I can find a book here that will answer so of my questions."
he thought, looking around for an attendant. But the forest of bookshelves obscured his view completely; even if there was soone to help, finding them would take ti.
"No matter," he resolved. "There are other ways."
His eyes scanned the books before him as he tried to discern so pattern in their arrangent, all while focusing his thoughts on his goal. Five minutes and three turns later, he gave up and summoned a point of light, activating [The Unknown Path].
A brilliant purple ray of light guided Jenkins onward, stopping before long. The book that destiny had pointed him to was quite thick, bound in a blood-red cover, its spine completely blank.
Jenkins tried to pull it from the shelf, but no matter how much force he applied, the book remained stubbornly in place.
"Custor, are you certain you require this particular book?"
A hoarse voice spoke from right behind him, sending a shiver down his spine and raising goosebumps on his neck. He whirled around to see an old woman in a pointed hat, holding an oil lamp and watching him intently. Judging by her aura, she was one of the market's staff—the attendant for this carriage he hadn't been able to find.
"Yes, I need this book,"
he confird with a nod.
"This book is extrely dangerous," the old woman cautioned. "It is among the most perilous volus permitted for reading during this market session. If you truly require it, I can register a loan for you. Such books are not for sale; we only offer limited reading ti."
As she spoke, her eyes flickered over the badge on Jenkins's chest before lingering for a mont on the bored-looking cat.
"I believe I detect a familiar scent... Have you, by any chance, recently encountered a [Book Fairy]?"
"I have,"
Jenkins replied with so hesitation. Not long ago, he had given a soul to a book, and the resulting Book Fairy had asked to follow him once all was said and done. It had even shown him how to gain an extra ability bubble—a tip that led him to the sealed machine in the mountains of Ruen and the legend of the mad poet.
"Very well,"
the old woman nodded, offering no further explanation about her connection to the Book Fairy's kind. She stood on her tiptoes, easily sliding out the book that Jenkins couldn't budge, and cradled it in her arms. Jenkins still couldn't see the cover.
The old woman led Jenkins through the labyrinthine aisles to a registration desk in the center of the carriage, which was nothing more than a small wooden table holding an oil lamp and so forms. Due to the book's special nature, borrowing it also required paynt in Sin Coins. After inquiring about the price, Jenkins spent one Sin Coin for ten minutes of reading ti. Factoring in his ten percent discount, he calculated that his final Sin Coin would grant him about eleven minutes.
The book's title was 'The Great Sin: Beast of Calamity'.
The ergence of intelligent life brought civilization and prosperity to the world, but it also brought sin. In truth, since the dawn of existence, sin has grown alongside the flas of life and civilization. This terrifying concept is not rely a form of energy; it is a principle, a rule that transcends even the fundantal laws of reality.
The accumulation of sin gives rise to a power fundantally incompatible with intelligent life. This is the power of Cursed Items, the sa incomprehensible force behind all manner of disasters.
When the sin saturating the material world reaches a critical threshold, a quantitative shift triggers a qualitative transformation, giving birth to beings literally made of sin—creatures that are the very antithesis of intelligent life.
The very existence of such beings is anathema to normal intelligent life. So disrupt the natural order of procreation, others embody endless greed, and still others represent unchecked growth... In essence, the birth of a Beast of Calamity is an unstoppable natural phenonon. Due to their elevated nature, they can never be truly destroyed.
"So that's why," Jenkins muttered to himself. "I've only ever heard of Beasts of Calamity being sealed, never slain."
Jenkins leaned against the base of a bookshelf, using the oil lamp placed on the floor to illuminate the text in the terrifying to. The script itself was completely incomprehensible—just looking at it gave him a headache. But because he had paid the price, the market was granting him temporary understanding.
He reached up to wipe a trickle of blood from his nose, his head buzzing. This forbidden knowledge was a power in itself. In a world where belief shaped reality, written records and ancient tales were conduits for that power. Jenkins couldn't begin to imagine what sort of being could have authored such a text; for him, simply reading it was an imnse strain.
The birth of the first Beast of Calamity, along with the cataclysm that ended the first Epoch, was now buried in the dust of history. After the book's opening chapter, which gave a broad overview of their origins, the subsequent sections detailed the specific Beast that had erged in each succeeding Epoch.
Jenkins knew his ti was limited. He couldn't possibly endure the strain of reading every entry—he would likely collapse before he finished. He had to be selective. His goal was to better prepare for the coming confrontation with the Beast of the eighteenth Epoch, so he began with the records of the seventeenth, the era closest to his own.
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