"You're awake? The auction is about to end, and I still haven't seen Papa Oliver."
Miss Capet murmured, sitting beside Jenkins.
"How long was I asleep? Wait... who's that?"
His gaze swept over the man seated directly in front of them, and he realized with a start that the man was a level-eight demigod Enchanter. Judging by the arrangent of his ability auras, he likely wasn't a mber of any Orthodox Church, a realization that sent a jolt of surprise through him.
"Is there sothing wrong with him?"
Noticing Jenkins's fixed stare, Miss Capet asked in a low voice.
Jenkins imdiately pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. A demigod-level Enchanter's intuition was incredibly sharp, and with the three of them so close, it was best not to speak of him at all.
But he was a fraction of a second too late. Just as Jenkins raised his finger to his lips, the man in front suddenly turned his head.
He was an ordinary-looking man with a neat mustache. His complexion was healthy, his build average, if a little on the thin side. A polite smile touched his lips as his gaze shifted from Jenkins to Miss Capet. Then, under their watchful eyes, he held out a business card:
Alfons Carl, Proprietor, Carl's Junk Shop
Miss Capet looked on, bewildered, with no idea of the na's significance, but Jenkins understood perfectly. He watched the man warily as the mustached proprietor took out a small notebook, hastily scribbled a line, and held it out for Jenkins to read:
"You're the one who took my mirror, aren't you?"
"So it really is his junk shop!"
Jenkins thought, giving a slight nod. He had no idea what the man was planning.
"After the auction, I'd like to invite you, Mr. Williams, to my shop. You may bring your companion as well, of course."
He wrote, then turned back to the auction, leaving his back completely exposed to Jenkins.
At this range, Jenkins could think of a dozen ways to kill the man in a single strike. But Carl's supre confidence gave him pause, making him hesitate to act. It could, of course, be a ploy, but Jenkins wasn't willing to bet on those odds.
"Who is he?"
Miss Capet mouthed the words, making no sound.
Jenkins shook his head. He also had a habit of carrying a notebook, and quickly jotted down a few words:
"When the train stops, leave imdiately and report this to the Church. I'll stall him here."
"Who is he, really?"
Miss Capet could tell from Jenkins's deanor that sothing was seriously wrong.
"A demigod, at least. And he's carrying a large number of classified items. It's alright, just go. I can handle this."
After he finished writing, his eyes drifted to his cat. He knew, without a doubt, that it would never agree to leave with Miss Capet.
"Are you sure you don't need my help?"
Miss Capet asked again. Seeing Jenkins's firm shake of the head, she knew he had a plan. She didn't insist on staying. Instead, she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, telling him to be careful. Jenkins, unaccustod to such proximity, felt his ears turn red.
Jenkins paid no attention to the rest of the auction. His mind raced, replaying the day's events, trying to guess what the man wanted, how he had known his na, and what else he might have discovered. He ran through everything he knew about Carl's Junk Shop. Their paths had been tangled for a long ti, but he'd never imagined they would finally et like this, purely by chance.
When the auction concluded, a disembodied voice announced that the train had arrived. Jenkins remained seated, watching Miss Capet depart before finally rising to his feet. At the sa mont, Carl, who had been sitting in front of him, also stood.
Alfons Carl was a full head shorter than Jenkins and considerably thinner, but as their eyes t, his presence was in no way diminished.
"Impressive, the young people of today. I half-expected you to bolt the mont the doors opened."
He didn't look like he was joking. Setting a black top hat on his head, he turned and walked toward the side door of the carriage, a step ahead of Jenkins:
"Co with . I think you'll find my shop quite interesting."
Jenkins narrowed his eyes, hesitating for a second before following him out of the carriage.
Carl's junk shop in Bel Diran was tucked away on an unassuming side street in the eastern part of the city. It was evening now, and even this quiet street was bustling with people.
Next to the junk shop was a bakery that sold cheap bread ends in the evening, and a long line of children and homakers from the poorer districts had already ford. Carl and Jenkins skirted the queue to reach the shop's entrance. The proprietor produced a key, unlocked the door, and ushered Jenkins inside.
The proprietor had clearly never considered tidying the place. Shelves overflowing with all manner of strange wares filled nearly every corner of the room. Through Jenkins's eyes, at least a quarter of the items glowed with an intensely powerful spiritual aura. That ant there were over twenty classified items in the main room alone.
He already knew that Carl's Junk Shop possessed a vast collection of special items, but to see it for himself was still astonishing.
"B-10-04-3977, the Mirror of Good and Evil, is just one of the more insignificant pieces in my collection. I sold it simply to test whether the viscount who happened to wander in possessed the iron will he believed he had. Later, however, I discovered another of the mirror's functions. If you point the back of it at an ordinary mirror, its primary effect reverses completely. It will then inflict its most recently absorbed curses and diseases upon whoever looks into it. I was about to send soone to buy it back for further study when I happened to run into you."
Carl took off his hat and tossed it onto the counter, then turned to face Jenkins.
"Jenkins Williams. A most interesting man. I've read your book, seen the transcript of your speech on the Fabry fraud, and even watched you from afar when you were none the wiser. You are quite the enigma. I originally took you for a common Scribe of the Legacy Sage Church, but I've recently changed my mind. After you interfered in the matter of the mirror, I did a little digging into your background... and what I found about your family was very interesting indeed."
Carl had only been able to investigate the Williams family's affairs because the information had already been leaked for various reasons. A few months ago, Jenkins was certain, he wouldn't have found a single clue.
"So, what do you want?"
Jenkins asked.
"I'd like to play a ga. If you win, I'll forgive you for taking my mirror. If you lose... I'll be taking sothing from you."
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