To the naked eye, everything seed normal. But through Jenkins's Eye of Reality, the dense white fog grew increasingly terrifying.
"Where did it go?"
He stood with the other n who had stepped outside, his mind churning with suspicion.
Chocolate, perched on his shoulder, flicked its tail when Jenkins didn't react.
"ow~"
While Jenkins was distracted, the cat made a show of pawing at the empty air a few tis.
Instantly, the woman with the ravaged body and festering face stumbled out from the depths of the fog, as if she had just been kicked.
Of course, ordinary people couldn't see the malevolent spirit—at least, not in its current state. So, the others present only saw the two bodyguards making strange gestures in the air. One even mid throwing a spear before letting out a long sigh, signaling to everyone that the coast was clear.
"What just happened?"
Soone asked, "We thought we heard a woman scream."
The n who had remained outside the house exchanged bewildered glances; they hadn't heard a thing.
"Could only the people inside the house hear it? Was it the Ouija board?"
Jenkins speculated.
The n who had stepped outside inford the group in the cottage that the sound probably wasn't a woman's scream. Since no one outdoors had heard anything, they all concluded it must have been nothing more than the eerie sound of wind whistling through the cracks in the brickwork.
After the brief incident, soone suggested that as the night was growing late, perhaps they should head ho. Laurel Lindsay, however, insisted they try again. She argued that the strange occurrence was an excellent sign, a harbinger of imminent success.
The won settled back around the worm-eaten table, and the old candles were replaced with fresh ones.
The glow from the white candles seed far dimr than it should have been, though Jenkins couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination.
But he had already made up his mind: successful or not, after this next attempt, he was going to convince Briny Mikhail to leave.
Miss Lindsay was nothing if not prepared. This ti, she had devised a new approach.
Specifically, she had drawn a hexagram on the table beforehand, filling its interior with symbols resembling letters that Jenkins did not recognize.
Placing the Ouija board in the center of the hexagram, the won joined hands and recited a string of unintelligible words in unison, their low whispers vibrating through the air.
They then repeated the earlier procedure, only this ti, the spirit they intended to summon was different.
"Who is Carly Alex?"
Jenkins whispered to the man beside him, a Mr. Kevin.
"You don't know? She was a friend of Miss Lindsay's. Died of a serious illness back in May."
Jenkins nodded. He hadn't arrived here until after May, so of course, his predecessor would have been unaware of the matter.
But Mr. Kevin wasn't finished. He glanced around nervously, and seeing that no one was paying them any mind, he leaned in and added in a hushed tone:
"I'm not one to spread rumors, but the truth is, most people believe Miss Alex didn't die from illness. They think she was poisoned."
"Do they know who did it?"
He pressed imdiately. His first thought was the Witch's House, but they hadn't even arrived in Nolan back in May.
"Oh, sir, it's just a rumor. There couldn't possibly be a real murderer, could there?"
"But rumors like that don't just appear out of thin air," Jenkins countered. "There must be a story behind it."
"Yes."
He looked awkward and deeply uncomfortable, as if regretting he'd ever brought it up.
"I have no wish to tarnish any lady's na, so I won't ntion specifics. It's... likely a story of bitter rivalry. Young ladies are so easily lost in matters of the heart. Their love can be so fierce, so passionate... and then cos jealousy, then hatred, and then..."
He trailed off without finishing, but Jenkins understood perfectly.
Gazing at the circle of won, a bold suspicion suddenly took root in his mind. It was completely unfounded, yet the more he considered it, the more plausible it seed.
"Besides poor Miss Alex, the other... protagonists of this story... they aren't all in this room, are they?"
"Hm? Oh, yes... wait. You don't think Miss Lindsay is trying to..."
He caught on to Jenkins's line of thought, and his face slowly contorted with astonishnt.
"Just a guess," Jenkins said. "By the way, which of the ladies here were involved in that story?"
Jenkins pressed, his voice low.
Mr. Kevin hesitated before subtly raising a hand to indicate a few of the young people at the table. He dropped his hand just as quickly and asked nervously,
"There aren't really any ghosts in this world, are there?"
"I don't know for sure," Jenkins replied, "but the power of faith can banish any evil spirit. When you feel pained or afraid, ditate on the holy symbol of the Legacy Sage and recite his teachings. No evil will be able to touch you!"
He answered with such pious conviction and a solemn expression that Mr. Kevin could almost feel the rock-solid certainty of his spirit.
The corner of Mr. Kevin's mouth twitched. Finding himself utterly unable to argue, he did as Jenkins suggested, muttering a quiet prayer as he traced the holy symbol over his heart.
"Mr. Williams really is just like they say."
The protagonists of the rumored affair, as indicated by Mr. Kevin, consisted of one man and two won. Adding the poor deceased girl to the mix, Jenkins suspected the story was far more complicated than he had first imagined.
The two won in question were seated to Miss Lindsay's left and directly opposite her. Both were rather coly, and their faces showed no signs of panic—only a faint mingling of fear and excitent, as if this were all just a thrilling ga.
As for the man, Jenkins recalled his na from the introductions: Dali Kaige. He seed to lack any respectable profession. Unlike the conservatively dressed writer and musician, he was clad in a heavy red dress, with the faint glimr of lace-trimd silk cuffs peeking out from beneath the sleeves. His face was caked in garish makeup and a lipstick of so unidentifiable, ghastly shade. The sight was utterly revolting.
When he noticed Jenkins staring, the man batted his long eyelashes at him, a gesture so startling that Jenkins almost lost his balance.
Raising his right hand, Jenkins gently stroked Chocolate's soft fur to steady his nerves. He imdiately tore his gaze away, squinting toward the candlelit center of the room, where the won had already placed their fingers back on the planchette.
A mont earlier, they had placed four items beneath four small statuettes: slips of paper bearing Carly Alex's dates of birth and death, a piece of jewelry that had belonged to her, and a photograph. Then, using a very faint black ink, they had written the dead woman's na in the center of the Ouija board, directly over its decorative cluster of tombstones.
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