Mr. Nelly glanced at Jenkins, his expression alight with interest, as if eagerly anticipating such a story from him.
"I'm sorry, but my next book won't be a detective story."
He paused to consider, then added, "It's more along the lines of a courtly novel, or perhaps a knight's adventure. My publisher advised to cater to more popular tastes, but I'll certainly consider your suggestion for a third book."
"I greatly look forward to reading your work."
The gentleman raised his glass, nodded to Jenkins, and then downed the contents in one go.
With talk of detective stories in the air, a faint, unavoidable hope flickered in everyone's hearts—a hope that so thrilling, major case might shatter the monotony of the night. But life went on, the world remained as mundane as ever, and inside the train carriage, surrounded by the blizzard, all was peaceful and serene.
As one in the morning approached, Jenkins concluded his card ga with the other gentlen. Noticing that Chocolate was still unusually energetic, he decided to take the cat outside for a stroll and experience the world's snow-covered plains firsthand.
Though snow was falling, the wind wasn't particularly harsh. With the collar of his overcoat turned up, the outdoor temperature was bearable, at least for a little while.
A few sets of footprints stretched out from the bottom of the steps, left behind by the last group of passengers who had ventured out to watch the snow. Jenkins stood at the exit of the carriage and let out a long sigh, a plu of white vapor instantly clouding the air before him.
Chocolate had never been fond of snow and refused to walk in it. Instead of burrowing into Jenkins's arms, however, the cat perched on his shoulder, allowing the snowflakes to dust its fur.
He clutched the oil lamp he'd acquired from the underground bronze coffer. The item's origins were untraceable, and its only apparent peculiarity was that objects bathed in its light cast no shadows.
In other words, it was an Unshadowed Lamp.
With the lamp in hand and Chocolate on his shoulder, he took a few steps into the darkness. Looking back at the brightly lit steam train, he saw it lying like a great, luminous serpent, coiled motionlessly upon the dark expanse of the snowfield.
"Speaking of which, I wonder what the story was with that snake at Hausen Manor. I completely forgot to ask..."
He muttered to himself, took off a glove and gently rubbed Chocolate's small nose, earning a soft, disgruntled ow from the cat.
For safety's sake, he didn't venture far, intending only to make a short loop before returning to his card ga. But trouble had a way of finding Jenkins, especially when he least expected it.
As he walked, a blurry figure materialized in the distance. He initially dismissed it as a trick of his sleep-deprived eyes, but as he drew nearer, he saw it was unmistakably a man. He appeared to be around thirty, dressed in black leather boots and a black woolen overcoat with silver buttons at the cuffs. Like Jenkins, his collar was turned up against the wind and snow, and a hat shadowed the upper half of his face, making his visible eyes stand out all the more.
With his hands thrust into his pockets, he watched Jenkins through the darkness, a fine layer of snow already dusting the brim of his hat.
"An Enchanter? Level six?"
A jolt of alarm shot through Jenkins. He instantly regretted leaving the train so rashly; his bodyguard was likely still on board.
"Jenkins Redemptor Williams?"
the man asked.
Jenkins nodded but remained silent, his mind racing as he weighed his options: make a run for the train or strike first and test the stranger's capabilities.
"My na is Osiris Alexander. No need to be alard. I'm not an assassin, nor do I bear you any ill will. I simply wish to propose a trade."
The man's voice cut through the wind and snow, reaching Jenkins's ears. It was magnetic, with a sowhat androgynous quality.
"Alexander?"
Instead of asking about the trade, Jenkins focused on the na. If he recalled correctly, this was the man who...
"That's right," the man confird. "I was the one who organized the exploration of the Kren Treasure. Unfortunately, the one-in-seven odds were still too slim. I didn't obtain what I was searching for."
He spoke calmly, gesturing toward the oil lamp in Jenkins's hand:
"I want that. But I'm no thief. Na your price. I'm also open to a trade—I have plenty of rituals and extraordinary items myself."
Silence stretched between them for a long mont, broken only by the faint whisper of the wind and falling snow. They stared into each other's eyes as snowflakes drifted through the space separating them.
"ow~"
Chocolate owed softly, but Jenkins was too preoccupied to heed it.
"ow!"
The cat cried out again, its call sharper this ti, as if trying to ward sothing off. Mr. Alexander, who had also taken note of the unusually assertive feline, followed its gaze. Farther out on the snowfield, a dark, stumbling shadow was slowly drawing nearer.
"A wolf?"
Jenkins, who had spotted it as well, made the sa guess. But as the shadow drew closer, he realized it was a woman, her face deathly pale, wrapped in a fur coat. She looked terribly weak, her hair whipping wildly in the wind, the tips already frosted with ice.
"A friend of yours?"
Mr. Alexander asked Jenkins.
"No. Yours?"
he retorted quietly.
"No. With the Church looking for , now is hardly the ti to be eting with friends."
Both n remained frozen, watching as the woman drew nearer. Neither stepped forward to help, nor did they prepare to flee. Mr. Alexander was afraid; an intense sense of danger washed over him, bringing to mind so unsavory rumors. Jenkins, too, was afraid, for he could see a thick, black spiritual aura enveloping her.
"Help... help !"
As if only just now noticing the two n, the wretched woman stretched out a hand toward them before collapsing into the snow. But she didn't give up. Inch by inch, she began to crawl forward, carving a crooked trench in the pristine snowfield.
The darkness had deepened almost imperceptibly, swallowing even the stars behind a veil of clouds. A chill seeped into Jenkins's bones, and a profound sense of dread gripped his heart. These were the telltale signs of a Cursed Item. This woman wasn't human.
"Perhaps we should deal with this first,"
Jenkins suggested.
"My thoughts exactly."
Mr. Alexander murmured in agreent.
As they spoke, the situation changed. The woman in the snow seed to fear the light, for she stopped crawling the mont she reached the edge of the glow cast by Jenkins's lamp.
"Oh, for the gods' sake, gentlen, please help ! We were caught in an avalanche... everyone else is dead... *sob*..."
But Jenkins and Alexander rely watched her, searching for any clue that might reveal her true nature.
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