"I haven't seen any increase in the bounty for the black-robed man."
After finally calming the cat, Jenkins gently scratched under its chin and asked another question.
"Things don't move that quickly. This only happened yesterday afternoon. But regardless, he did steal a Cursed Item, and we can't rule out his involvent in the death of that man, Stuart. The reward will definitely go up, but the exact amount won't be set until the investigation is over. Hand that pen..."
Jenkins had already told Papa Oliver about his business with the playwright. The old man, however, didn't find the fellow strange at all. Having run this shop for so many years, he had t far stranger people. Most of them were ordinary folks, but it was precisely because they were ordinary, cut off from the extraordinary world, that their awe and curiosity bred such bizarre, even perverse, hobbies.
This was especially true for the wealthy who had too much ti and money on their hands.
Papa Oliver even told Jenkins about a prominent rchant in Nolan City, about five years ago, who had been buying up ancient female corpses. At the ti, even the Orthodox Church suspected he was a front man for so unregistered Benefactor, but when the Church of Death and End intervened to investigate, they discovered the man was just...
"Do you want to tell you what he planned to do with them?"
"No, no, absolutely not! I'd have nightmares for a week."
Jenkins could still vividly recall the malicious grin on Papa Oliver's face at that mont.
"So, what were you actually doing yesterday?"
He was still curious but worried the matter might be confidential. So, well into their conversation, he finally broached the subject, phrasing it carefully.
Seeing Jenkins's cautious deanor, Papa Oliver chuckled.
"No need to be so timid. It's not a secret, especially not from you."
He put down his pen, folded the docunt he was writing, placed it in a kraft paper envelope, and sealed it before speaking again.
"A two-story residential building in the south of the city is being renovated. While excavating the basent, they accidentally 'dug up' a Cursed Item."
"Dug?"
Jenkins noted the slight hesitation in his voice when he used that word.
"Yes, 'dug' isn't quite accurate, because this particular Cursed Item's appearance is related to space. It only manifests in a sealed room with a single door, with an area between 50 and 72 square yards. During the renovation, that basent just so happened to et the requirents perfectly. And so, A-01-1-0034, Mr. Prankster's Replica Shop, appeared."
"Mr. Prankster?"
His pen slipped, nearly ssing up the character he was writing. He never expected to hear that na again. So far, the only items from the Mr. Prankster series he had encountered were A-11-5-2071, Mr. Prankster's Toy Car Ticket, and B-07-4-8848, Mr. Prankster's Prank Pouch. But for a na or title to be part of a supernatural item's designation... this was no simple figure.
"Sir, could you explain that na? I've seen a few items with the 'Mr. Prankster' prefix in the archives before, but when I tried to look for more information, I couldn't find a single thing."
"Of course you couldn't. The only records on Mr. Prankster that the Church keeps in this diocese are two pages of paper in the lowest level of the Gate of All Things. Even the Holy See knows very little about this entity. It's not a god, nor is it classified as any of the A, B, or C series items, but it's far more terrifying..."
Papa Oliver abruptly stopped. Seeing Jenkins's expectant face, he closed his eyes, made the sign of the Sage over his chest, and recited softly:
"Knowledge has its price; the light of wisdom dispels the darkness. Knowledge has its weight; mortals ought to revere the unknown."
It was a line from the scriptures of the Church of Knowledge and Books. Jenkins had learned it by heart since coming here, so he understood perfectly: so things were better left unknown.
"Then what does the Replica Shop do?"
Taking the hint, he wisely dropped the matter of Mr. Prankster and asked about the Cursed Item instead.
"It's a shop that sells replicas—counterfeits, in other words. Only one person is allowed inside at a ti, and the interior of the shop appears different to everyone. It's managed by a very poorly made wooden puppet, but it's impossible to tell if it possesses a soul. The reason it's called the Replica Shop is that everything it sells is a counterfeit of a supernatural item the person entering has seen before."
Seeing Jenkins's confusion, Papa Oliver patiently elaborated.
"In other words, if I were to enter the shop, it would be filled with imitations of every single A, B, and C series item I have ever laid eyes on. The performance of these replicas is generally inferior to the originals, their malicious effects are greatly amplified, and they can only be used once before being irreparably destroyed. That much is unchangeable, no matter what."
"So what's the price?"
Jenkins asked imdiately, his mind racing with guesses like souls or emotions.
But the answer was none of those.
"Stories. Original stories, to be precise."
Papa Oliver looked up at Jenkins, who, as expected, wore an expression of astonishnt.
"The puppet in the shop requires custors to provide a story that has never before appeared in the world. If you ask it why, it will explain that this is a request from its master, Mr. Prankster. The puppet then evaluates the story to determine what the custor is allowed to purchase."
"And its dangerous properties? I noticed the Replica Shop has a safety rating of 1."
"A normal transaction—tell a story, make a purchase, and leave—is perfectly safe. That includes using the replica items; they won't cause any problems beyond their intended effects, since a price has already been paid. But if you enter the shop and fail to tell a story..."
He stroked his chin. The old man didn't keep a beard, claiming it made him look younger. Jenkins had tried growing one, but aside from Chocolate's objections, he found it didn't make him look any more mature. The physical age of this body was just too different from its appearance.
Of course, it also had sothing to do with the fact that the soul occupying the body wasn't exactly mature either.
"After entering A-01-1-0034, if you don't make a purchase within thirty minutes—aning, you don't tell a story, or the story fails to satisfy the puppet's demands—you will be deed an unwelco guest. From what we've seen, even a demigod-level Benefactor is no match for that puppet. It will expel the unwelco guest from the shop... in the form of a puppet."
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