Ti was short. They dragged the man out of the iron gate and hid his body in a pile of trash before returning to the club. A red carpet lined the corridor, and the air was thick with a cloyingly sweet, strange scent. Though it had seed heavily guarded from the outside, there was not a single security guard in sight once they were inside.
They could have pretended to be ordinary guests, but for safety's sake, they relied on Jenkins's Dream Soul Departure ability to scout around corners for people. Miss Audrey, anwhile, periodically flipped a coin to determine the correct path forward. They quickly reached the second floor and stopped before an unmarked room.
These rooms were for club mbers to rest in. Typically, no room was assigned to anyone in particular; mbers simply found an empty one when they needed it.
A red plaque hung on the gilded wooden door, indicating that it was currently occupied.
On the wall directly opposite the door hung a decorative oil painting. It depicted a wooden door standing alone in a adow, and what the artist was trying to express was anyone's guess.
Miss Audrey paused for a mont, then whispered a reminder. "A diviner's intuition is far sharper than that of an ordinary Enchanter. I feel this painting is warning us about sothing. We must be extrely careful in a mont."
Jenkins nodded, narrowing his eyes as he peered into the room. Inside, there was only a cluster of light spots—ten in all, signifying a level 5 Enchanter.
Beneath the lights, he could also clearly see a mingled aura of yellow and red. This ant the Enchanter was carrying so kind of B-class extraordinary item, one with both spell and martial capabilities.
"I'll go see what's inside," he whispered.
They couldn't linger here for too long; the missing back-door guard could be discovered at any mont.
Miss Audrey tossed her coin again. After glancing at the result under her palm, she nodded at Jenkins.
His body slumped to one side, but the lady caught him as his soul slipped through the wall and into the room.
Miss Audrey's divination had been correct; the Enchanter inside had no ability to perceive spirits.
"I can save you, but you will have to pay a price."
A middle-aged man in a tailcoat leaned back comfortably in a rocking chair. Beside him, on a small wooden table, sat a bottle of red wine and a delicate glass.
The man opposite him, dressed in rags with a look of desperation, seed utterly out of place in such a setting, his presence only highlighting the room's opulence.
"Mr. Robinson, as long as you can help get rid of these terrible gears, I am willing to pay any price."
His disembodied soul consud too much spirit, and even with his recent level-up, he dared not waste it recklessly. If the star spirits hadn't borrowed that stone he'd acquired from the 15th Epoch, he could have even abandoned his physical body, but that was not an option now.
His soul slipped back into his body. He opened his eyes and gasped for air, like a corpse coming back to life.
"The infected person is in there, along with another man. They're talking about the Gear Germs. I think the other man is most likely an Enchanter."
Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. They cut their conversation short and slipped into an adjacent empty room. Their target was just on the other side of the wall.
This room was furnished like an ordinary living space. Besides a bed with a gauze canopy, there was an elegant bookshelf, a red double-door wardrobe, and a mahogany desk. The only thing on the desk at the mont was a brass lamp of a classic hanging basket design.
"What now?"
He turned to ask, but Miss Audrey had already walked briskly to the window. She glanced down but didn't draw the curtains. The windowsill overlooked another secluded alley, and across from it stood a strange, windowless, three-story black building, so there was no need to worry about being seen.
"Mr. Williatte, looking at this window gives another strange feeling... It's so odd."
She turned her head to look at Jenkins's face. "The feeling of destiny is stronger today than ever before. As I thought, Mr. Williatte, you are truly favored by fate."
"No, I am favored by the Sage."
He nodded with great certainty, puffing out his chest to appear more confident.
"Yes, I am favored by the Sage," he repeated, then asked again, "What should we do now?"
"It's fine."
As she spoke, the woman began searching through the pockets of her lace- and gauze-adorned coat. She eventually produced a rather large glass jar. Inside, a human ear floated in a pale yellow solution.
Setting aside the fact that the jar was clearly larger than the pocket it ca from, Jenkins was already trying to guess what this black Cursed Item was, one that even his Eye of Reality hadn't detected before she took it out.
"A-01-4-9155, The Shaful Eavesdropper."
Miss Audrey nodded at Jenkins, a strained expression on her disguised, delicate face.
"This Cursed Item was born in the year 1023 of the current epoch. Yes, born, not discovered. It's a horrifying and complex story; we can talk about it later when we have ti. For now, let explain its properties:
First, if this ear is attached to a normal human's ear, it cannot be removed by any ans until that person dies. For the rest of their life, they will be tornted by terrible, incessant whispers from an unknown source. We suspect that, through its eavesdropping property, they hear the voices of so terrifying creatures from a subspace.
Second, if this ear is attached to an Enchanter's ear, the Enchanter can selectively eavesdrop on any sound around them. However, they cannot use it for more than ten minutes, or the structure of the Enchanter's own ear will undergo permanent, irreversible changes. This transformation greatly enhances hearing but also alters its appearance. Known changes include: the ear enlarging until the lobe touches the ground; it multiplying into three pairs; it being absorbed inward by the head, leaving only a small, structurally unidentifiable hole; or it transforming into the ear of so monstrous species... The process is brief but extrely painful, and it permanently affects one's sanity. An Enchanter with a fragile mind would very likely go insane."
She paused, took out a small knife that looked like a ritual silver dagger, and used it to cut away a viscous, glue-like substance sealing the jar's stopper. The corner of her mouth twitched as she plunged her hand into the liquid and retrieved the ear.
It was definitely not Jenkins's imagination. The ear twitched on its own.
"This woman... a true Enchanter, no doubt."
This act of pulling a disgusting organ from a disgusting liquid with her bare hands, Jenkins thought, was definitely not sothing an ordinary woman could do.
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