"If A-12-02-3320 isn't dealt with swiftly, a new legend will soon haunt the continent: the tale of a city of the undead."
In short, once it was confird that they were indeed dealing with A-12-02-3320, Miss Bevanna imdiately grasped the gravity of the situation.
By tracking the eldest daughter of the Stress family, the Church had already discovered two other "people" in a similar state nearby. Every A-12-02-3320 incident revolves around a single core corpse—the first victim. Outwardly, this body appears no different from any other, but when a specially formulated potion is applied to its skin, it produces a distinct, glowing reaction.
"May the Sage preserve us. By so fortunate twist of fate, the alchemist sent by the Church is still in town!"
As the vials of pale blue solution were handed out, Jenkins heard soone beside him whisper.
Past experience had taught them that destroying this core corpse was the key to neutralizing an A-12-02-3320 incident in its nascent stages. That was why, despite being severely short-staffed, they had to divert personnel to begin the search imdiately.
"Papa Oliver believes it's too soon for you to be involved in such dangerous operations. Nevertheless, Jenkins, I want you to join this mission."
Miss Bevanna's expression was grave.
"Of course. I understand. As a Scribe, it is my duty to carry out the tasks assigned by the Church!"
He straightened his posture and declared, then his brow furrowed. "Is the manpower shortage so severe that clerical personnel like are needed for field operations?"
"No, no, no."
It was Captain Bincy, standing nearby, who spoke up:
"Under normal circumstances, we would never involve you in a field operation. But the challenge here isn't combat, it's the search. Jenkins, your fate, blessed by the Sage, has a way of bringing you both extraordinary luck and an uncanny knack for stumbling into trouble. In this particular case, that's a trendous advantage."
Whether Miss Bevanna was counting on Jenkins's good luck or his misfortune, her logic was sound. Jenkins himself could feel it—with every so-called Savior's Emblem he acquired, the feeling that he was destined to stumble into so incident the mont he stepped outside grew stronger.
Based on his own eclectic theories, passages from ancient texts, and the insights of the diviner, Miss Audrey, he had co to a single conclusion: this was the world's trial for its saviors.
For this operation, the Church of the Sage deployed three squads, with Jenkins joining as a temporary mber. Miss Bevanna, anwhile, would remain at the church to oversee the situation and prevent any unforeseen complications.
The personnel were divided into three-person teams, each assigned to investigate suspicious corpses based on current intelligence and divinatory results. Nearly a hundred mbers from Nolan's five major churches were mobilized for the effort. If even one piece of intel or a single divination proved correct, the potential city-wide catastrophe could be swiftly averted.
For safety, Jenkins was paired with two n he knew well: Captain Bincy and a Mr. Rogers Bentz. Their destination was Nolan Public Hospital No. 3, located downtown—the very place where Jenkins had first ascended to godhood.
As their carriage rattled toward their destination, Jenkins and the two n exchanged information. Captain Bincy explained that their lead ca from one of the three most probable outcos of a divination perford by Miss Audrey.
Jenkins suspected that was precisely why he'd been brought along.
Given the urgency of their mission, the Church hadn't arranged for any of its clerical staff at the hospital to et them. However, Captain Bincy carried official warrants stamped with the seals of both City Hall and KalFax Field, granting them unimpeded access upon their arrival.
They were quickly t by a tall, slender, bespectacled man in his middle years—the vice director of Nolan Public Hospital No. 3. He led them toward the morgue, situated at the rear of the hospital grounds.
"Up until this past autumn, our morgue was located in the basent of the building on the hospital's west wing, and we had a dedicated attendant on duty."
At this, the vice director looked sowhat uncomfortable:
"But during the autumn, rumors began to circulate among the citizens of Nolan about terrible supernatural events happening within the hospital. Even though the Church of Death and End eventually helped us dispel the gossip, we were still forced to relocate the morgue to the most remote building at the rear of the grounds."
He was referring to the malevolent spirit that had haunted the hospital when Jenkins first arrived in this world. To an Enchanter like him, the incident was long over, a closed chapter. But its aftershocks still rippled through the lives of ordinary people.
The morgue was housed in a two-story, flat-roofed building at the far end of the hospital grounds. From a distance, they could see that large swaths of plaster had peeled from the upper walls. As they drew closer, they noticed that none of the windows had glass; they were all boarded up with wooden planks nailed into X-shapes. At the base of the building, thick patches of green moss clung to the foundation.
The place looked utterly derelict.
"The conditions are quite poor, I'm afraid."
The vice director said sheepishly, then called for the current attendant.
Jenkins had pictured the morgue attendant as so listless old man with sagging skin and a balding head. Instead, the person who greeted them was a young man with a disarmingly friendly smile.
He wore a black coat with at least six pockets on the front and looked to be no older than twenty-five.
"This is Provence Lucal," the vice director explained. "He was forrly a gravedigger in Shire City and just recently ca to Nolan to live with relatives. And these three gentlen are officers from KalFax Field, searching for the remains of a missing victim."
After the brief introductions, Lucal, the attendant, led the three n into the building.
An unbearable stench of preservatives hung in the air inside. Jenkins was suddenly grateful he had left Chocolate back at the church. The temperature within the building was noticeably colder than outside, and stepping through the door gave Jenkins the strange sensation of being completely cut off from the rest of the world.
Captain Bincy shot Jenkins and Mr. Bentz a look, a silent warning to be cautious. But Jenkins felt no alarm. His gaze swept the room, and he saw no objects emitting the telltale black aura of a supernatural threat. Instead, he saw a peculiar glow emanating from the person right beside them. The morgue attendant, Provence Lucal, was an Enchanter.
He couldn't possibly be an agent planted by one of the Orthodox Churches—his background and abilities didn't fit the profile. Nor could he be a registered Enchanter; if he were, they would have been warned before they arrived.
Which ant one thing: this was another unregistered Enchanter.
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