"Aren't the negotiations scheduled to start at ten? It's only seven now. We have plenty of ti."
Jenkins adjusted his collar. He wasn't fond of restrictive formal wear, but the ladies who had chosen his attire certainly were.
"Did you think we would have a peaceful journey?"
"Of course... Oliver, what do you an?"
Oliver just grunted.
"The cultists will definitely try to stop these negotiations. You must have heard—the Church plans to wipe out all the cults entrenched in Nolan in one fell swoop."
"I've heard."
"That's why we have to seize this opportunity."
"You an... we're the bait?"
It finally dawned on him.
"Don't put it so crudely. Besides, we're just one of several baits. The Church anticipates that we'll most likely run into trouble. That's why we're leaving early. Who knows what might happen? But don't worry, the Church has made thorough preparations. All we have to do is press forward."
Jenkins nodded. He had heard whispers of this plan but hadn't expected the Church to be so audacious. Then again, considering the current situation, a few calculated risks were probably necessary.
"Everything we do today will affect history, so you must be cautious. Jenkins, don't speak in such a cavalier tone. Have you finished reading all those docunts?"
"I've read them all."
He sat up straight and spoke with confidence, then pushed the carriage window open a crack to peer outside.
"The weather is really awful today, isn't it?"
"Unusual weather always heralds unusual events. We're still a twenty-minute drive from the church. We must be careful."
Oliver warned.
When it ca to accidents in the rain, the first thing that ca to Jenkins's mind was naturally the "Rain Man." Strictly speaking, he hadn't defeated the man, but had rely used a Stray Butterfly to send him off to parts unknown.
Therefore, it was entirely possible for the Rain Man to reappear, but Jenkins refused to believe his luck could be that terrible.
The Westminster River flowed through the city, in a way dividing Nolan into two parts, east and west. Of course, it wasn't a strict geographical division, but people were still accustod to using the river as a line of demarcation.
St. George Avenue was located near the Docklands, placing it firmly in the western part of the city, while the city center, including the City Hall and the Sage's Church, was part of the east. No matter which route they took, they would have to cross a bridge to reach their destination. The first incident of their journey occurred just as the carriage reached the bridgehead.
The carriage, moving at a normal speed, suddenly stopped. Before a tense Jenkins and Oliver could say anything, the driver's troubled voice called out.
"Gentlen, we might have to take another route."
Braving the rain, Jenkins stuck his head out the window and saw a crowd of people holding umbrellas, blocking the bridgehead with makeshift barricades and their own bodies.
"What are these people doing? Protesting factory emissions or the recent spike in prices?"
Jenkins asked.
The driver went to inquire and learned that they were protesting the City Hall's intervention to forcibly lower the price of tulips.
The speech on the tulip mania had not been made public, but everyone who needed to know, knew. In addition to the flower sellers' guild preparing for the drop in the price of flowers and bulbs, the City Hall had also implented a series of policies.
Evidently, those who had invested too much to pull out imdiately were quite unhappy with these policies. Watching the price of tulips fall lower each day with unnerving regularity, the most anxious among them could only resort to protesting in their own way.
A soft landing was one thing, but if they had their way, there would be no landing at all.
It was hard to say who was right and who was wrong, but KalFax Field would soon arrive to resolve the situation. For now, however, this road was impassable. After a brief discussion with Jenkins and Oliver, the driver chose to cross the river via another route.
This detour, however, would add at least ten minutes to their journey.
"See? We'll always encounter the unexpected. That's why you must remain vigilant at all tis,"
Oliver said.
"The cultists want to stop us from attending the negotiations... Are they going to release a Cursed Item? That... actually seems possible."
The carriage left the bridgehead, turned around, and first headed north along Pissman Comrcial Street for a short distance. It then turned east under the large sign of "Mr. Lowry's Jewelry Shop" and entered a straight road that slanted northeast.
It then continued north over the stone-paved road, and after turning east at the second intersection, the riverbank ca into view once more.
There were no protesters at this bridgehead, so the carriage carrying Jenkins and Oliver proceeded smoothly onto the bridge. Right behind them, another four-wheeled carriage followed, accelerating on the bridge until the two were driving side-by-side.
In the instant their windows were almost touching, the other carriage's window was violently shoved open. A tal cane shot out, shattering the wooden window on Jenkins's side in a single blow. Before he and Oliver could react, a steam bomb radiating scorching heat was tossed inside.
"A steam bomb!"
Oliver yelled, then watched as Jenkins caught the bomb. A frigid mist billowed from his hand, and a layer of ice visibly spread across the device.
The moisture from the hot steam actually accelerated the freezing process.
Once he was certain the bomb wouldn't explode, Jenkins had the carriage stop, and he and Oliver stepped out onto the bridge under their umbrellas.
The carriage that had attacked them hadn't left; it was stopped a short distance away at the end of the bridge. Standing in front of it were two n wearing identical black overcoats. Neither carried an umbrella, and they simply stood there in the rain.
"Do you know them?"
Jenkins asked Oliver.
"How would I?"
Oliver retorted.
Before either of them could speak to the n, one of the two spoke first.
"We can actually resolve this dispute more peacefully."
His voice was muffled by the rain.
"And your idea of peace is tossing a steam bomb?"
Jenkins dropped the large chunk of ice onto the ground. It rolled twice before coming to a stop in the rain.
"To be fair, everyone knows that throwing a steam bomb at high-level Benefactors is no different from throwing a lon of the sa size. We don't want to hurt you. Our mission is simply to delay you for two hours. If you're both willing, there's a bar over there. The drinks are on us."
"Who are you? The Gear Artisans' Association? Or the Tree House?"
Jenkins demanded.
"Sorry, sir. We don't know what you're talking about."
A chill spread from Jenkins's feet, and a layer of ice crackled across the rain-slicked surface of the bridge. Oliver muttered a curse that Jenkins didn't understand, but as the incantation left his lips, a fluctuation of spirit signaled the start of the battle.
The two sides were positioned in the middle and at one end of the bridge. Before they could close the distance, Oliver's incantation took effect. This world had no friendly-fire protection, so the area-of-effect spell also hit Jenkins. The impact on him was minimal, however; he could just barely discern it was a spell ant to disrupt the mind.
He dropped his umbrella and charged forward through the rain, the sheet of ice spreading ahead of him and reaching the two enemies first. The mont the puddles at their feet froze, their shoes were sealed to the ground. But the two n seed to have no intention of moving; instead, they each produced a glass bottle and hurled it at Jenkins.
Both bottles appeared empty, but Jenkins wasn't taking any chances.
He swiped his right hand through the air, and a chain of raindrops coalesced into a large plate of ice under his cryo-solidification ability. Jenkins threw the ice plate, and it collided with the two glass bottles, sending them flying straight back.
The bottles smashed at the two strangers' feet. As they shattered, a blinding white flash, like a high-powered gas lamp suddenly ignited in the dead of night, made everyone instinctively shut their eyes.
When Oliver and Jenkins opened their eyes again, the strangers were gone, leaving behind two pairs of shoes and a scattering of ice shards on the ground.
"That was an alchemical item used only by cultists from the Club of Light Chasers. They call it a flash bomb. Under the influence of their unique divine arts, anyone exposed to the light becos temporarily unable to see the user of the ability."
"So, it's like invisibility?"
"Yes. It's the most effective form of invisibility known so far. Most detection-type spells and abilities can't see through it."
Jenkins blinked. His normal vision couldn't pick up the two high-level Benefactors, but the spiritual aura visible to his Eye of Reality could not be hidden.
"But why the Club of Light Chasers? Are they working with the Difference Engine now, too?"
Jenkins asked again.
"No, I think they're just cooperating with the Tree House to so extent. Don't forget the purpose of today's negotiations."
Oliver reminded him, his eyes scanning their surroundings warily, trying to spot the enemies by watching for abnormal patterns in the falling rain.
"Oh, I see. The agreent reached in these talks will inevitably impose stricter limits on the proselytizing and activities of these cults, just like the High Tower Accord at the end of the last epoch. So even if they don't share common interests, as long as they're cultists, none of them want to see our negotiations proceed smoothly."
His fist suddenly whipped out to his right, smashing into the chest of an invisible figure. The invisible man had a thod for letting the rain pass through his body naturally, but the sudden, powerful blow to his heart shattered his control. His outline materialized for a mont in the rain, like a human-shaped screen of water.
He went flying backward, nearly tumbling off the bridge. As he tried to scramble to his feet, Jenkins was already standing over him, holding an ice spear fashioned from rainwater, its sharp tip pointed at his throat.
"You're welco to test whether or not I'll kill you."
"This isn't right. The intel said you were a level-seven Benefactor who specialized in manipulating life force, didn't it?"
the man asked, his face a mask of astonishnt at how quickly and decisively he had been defeated.
"The intel wasn't wrong, just incomplete."
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