"An underground gas pipe explosion. That's what the papers will say."
Jenkins, who was also standing at the end of the street, spoke as he surveyed their surroundings.
"So, what exactly was that? After I blew it to bits, there's nothing left. And here I was, hoping to at least scoop up so ashes for a souvenir."
His casual attitude infuriated the woman, but the blast had been far too loud. Soone would be here any second. They had to leave, now.
"You can contact anyti."
Jenkins said as they parted ways, adding a reminder.
"If you get a chance, have your people look into what's hiding in the fog around Nolan. That thing today... was seriously weird."
With that, he turned and left with Chocolate, his white cat who had been startled awake by the blast, not even glancing back. Only Miss Stevel was left, fuming. She kicked a loose stone out of her way before turning and leaving the half-demolished street herself.
As expected, the half-demolished street—courtesy of the Air Bomb Ring—was officially ruled an accident caused by an underground gas pipe explosion. From the intelligence Jenkins later received at the church, it seed Miss Stevel had indeed reported the strange, black-misted creature.
He also learned that Miss Stevel had successfully infiltrated the circle of the Believers of Lies. This was a matter of imnse significance, classified as absolutely top-secret. Including the central church authority in Bel Diran, fewer than five people were privy to this information.
With that crucial matter handled, the rest of the week—from Thursday to Sunday—passed without any strange incidents. The Tri-King Summit continued, but its progress was less than satisfactory. Jenkins stopped attending after the third day, convinced his presence there was a complete waste of ti.
On the other hand, the tulip sche made delightful progress during that half-week. Perhaps it was because Nolan had suddenly filled with a large number of idle rich with nothing better to spend their money on, pushing the luxury market into a state where demand outstripped supply. Throughout the week, a steady stream of tulips with rare colors and unique petal patterns found their way to the city’s auction houses.
While the initial batches had largely failed to sell, the subsequent tulips all fetched exorbitant prices. The public gradually ca to accept the flower as a "prestigious" variety. The turning point ca when Jenkins and Miss Windsor jointly applied pressure, compelling the Nolan Council—organizers of the Tri-King Summit—to purchase a large batch of tulips for decorating the venue. After that, the prices skyrocketed to an absurd level.
But Jenkins's aim wasn't rely to inflate the price of tulips; he wanted people to see the flower as an asset, a form of wealth that could appreciate in value. For that to happen, tulips needed to be seen not just in auction houses, but also in places where ordinary citizens could encounter them.
To this end, Jenkins magically cultivated a certain number of common-colored tulips each day. Through Miss Windsor's network, they were distributed to Nolan's flower girls to be sold across the city.
Jenkins even ca up with a new tactic. Starting on the weekend, he authorized the flower girls to buy back tulips from the public at a reduced price, only to resell them at a new, officially higher retail price set daily. Of course, no real custors would buy them at that point. So, using the treasure hoard from near Bel Diran as a financial safety net, Miss Windsor hired a troupe of skilled actors to "sweep up" all the unsold flowers.
Since the tulips themselves cost next to nothing to produce, the only ones actually profiting were the flower girls. But that was precisely Jenkins's intention. Besides, the treasure contained enough wealth to buy the entire city of Nolan; money was simply not a concern.
No plan is perfect, and an operation of this scale was bound to attract the attention of the authorities. Fortunately for Jenkins, this was the first ti anyone in this world had attempted such a sche. Moreover, Nolan's KalFax Field was completely swamped with security for the Tri-King Summit, so no one had the ti to dig into the curious case of the tulips.
The plan was proceeding smoothly. Jenkins believed that if he could truly replicate the spectacular bubble of the other world's Tulip Mania, it would be best if he were the one to personally expose it. By doing so, he could secure at least a single drop of divinity from his Lie Godhood.
While Jenkins juggled matters of royalty, the Church, and his tulip enterprise, the young won in his life were busy preparing for his birthday. His original body's birthday fell on the last day of the month, a Sunday. He would have preferred to celebrate the anniversary of his arrival in this world next month, but that was sothing he could never admit.
He had told them his birthday was the day they had all t, so Hathaway, Briny, Alexia, and Dolores were all eagerly making preparations. From Jenkins's perspective, there was nothing to prepare for, but every ti he voiced this opinion, he was t with a chorus of reproachful glares.
Miss Windsor and his cousin, Sigrid, also knew about his birthday and naturally wanted to celebrate with him. But Jenkins felt the occasion was already promising to be chaotic enough; he truly didn't think he could handle any more guests.
He planned to take Sigrid to et the Williams family after his birthday, to formally introduce his newfound relative. Because of this, the devout follower of Nature, though disappointed to miss the party, wasn't too bothered. Miss Windsor, however, was quite put out, but Jenkins was already at his limit.
Ti flew by, and soon it was Monday again—the twenty-fourth day of the Month of the Starry Sky and the Long Night, and the sixth day of the Tri-King Summit.
With the summit failing to produce any results, the delegates from each nation were locked in an awkward stalemate. The conference, originally planned for one week, was now being extended to two.
The morning paper featured a lengthy, text-only opinion piece discussing leaked transcripts from the summit and speculating on the global shifts it might bring. The sidebar was filled with the usual block advertisents for detectives, wanted posters, and obituaries—and even a notice offering to purchase tulips at a premium price.
Jenkins clutched the paper, his eyes fixed on that notice. Carrying his cat and cloaked in a black, hooded robe, he hurried through the smog-wreathed streets of the early morning.
It wasn't yet six o'clock, and the sky was just beginning to shed the darkness of night, but Jenkins had already reached the district surrounding the church.
Today, the Twelve Orthodox Churches were launching their first joint operation in Nolan City: a raid on the illegal organization known as the Perfu Appreciation Committee.
It was set to be the largest joint action in Nolan this year, and the most significant operation undertaken by the churches in the material world since the decisive winter battle against the Snowman Legion. Although the threat posed by the Perfu Appreciation Committee was nowhere near that of a legion-class Mysterious Object, the Church had assembled an even larger and more powerful force than before. They were determined to make this first battle at the end of the Eighteenth Epoch a decisive and overwhelming victory.
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