Carrying the unconscious Miss Mikhail on his back, Jenkins and the other two hurried back to the warmth of the manor. On the way, he discovered a note in Miss Mikhail's pocket, written in Hathaway's familiar hand:
I'm alright. Don't worry.
The discovery was a profound relief to Jenkins, but he couldn't shake his anxiety until he saw Hathaway with his own eyes.
After they settled Miss Mikhail in her bedroom, the doctor—one of the suspects—examined her in front of Jenkins and Miss Lawrence.
There were no external injuries. The preliminary diagnosis was that she had fainted from exhaustion and fright. Given the lack of frostbite and her normal body temperature, she must have been sleeping in the basent cupboard for quite so ti, or perhaps had been moved indoors much earlier.
"I believe she just needs proper rest. We should have soone stay with her so they can provide water and food the mont she awakens."
No one knew how Miss Mikhail, who had vanished outside, had ended up in the manor's basent. Still, her safe return was certainly a cause for celebration.
Jenkins looked at Mrs. Hydra differently now. He couldn't decide whether the woman was good or evil. Based on what had just transpired, it seed as if she had been the one to guide them to Miss Mikhail.
"But I'm definitely the only Enchanter here."
He activated his sight again, scanning his surroundings and confirming that the only spiritual auras nearby belonged to him and Chocolate...
"Wait... where's the glow from my room?"
His luggage contained several items he didn't usually carry on his person, like the Spirit Striking Cane, but now he couldn't see its telltale glow. A flicker of panic went through him. Making a quick excuse, he left Miss Mikhail's room and hurried back to his own. The cane and his other belongings were right where he'd left them, but he could only perceive their spiritual auras when he was less than a foot away.
"What's going on? Is there sothing strange about this manor? Or does soone have an item capable of masking spiritual auras, suppressing the power of my eyes?"
This discovery completely overturned his initial assumption that he was dealing with ordinary people. When he returned to Miss Mikhail's room, he deliberately moved closer to the silent Mrs. Hydra and the doctor, one of the main suspects. To his astonishnt, they were both level 1 Enchanters.
"Interesting."
With the doctor on hand, his room was the next to be inspected.
The butler, the doctor, and Mrs. Hydra accompanied Jenkins this ti. Miss Lawrence remained behind with a trusted maid to watch over Miss Mikhail. Though naturally a little timid, Miss Lawrence knew her friend couldn't be left alone.
"Alright."
Seeing her apprehension, Jenkins lifted the cat, which had been perched on his shoulder watching the commotion, and placed it on the bed. Chocolate stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
"I'll leave him with you. He's exceptionally sharp. Having him here is as good as having here."
The others assud this was just Jenkins's way of offering comfort, but Miss Lawrence, who had witnessed his capabilities, instinctively saw Chocolate as sothing else entirely—a fearso beast from a folktale.
A cute face always has its perks, however. The young woman wasn't afraid of Chocolate; she even wanted to scoop him into her arms. But the cat, already displeased at being left behind, had no intention of letting a stranger touch him.
"I'll be back soon."
Jenkins scratched under Chocolate's chin, and the cat imdiately let out a soft ow.
Doctor Bray Decter's room wasn't on the ground floor with the other servants' quarters but was tucked away in a corner on the third floor. Next to his room was the butler's, and a small closet for brooms and mops. His door faced a rather strange oil painting in the hallway. It was Jenkins's first ti in this part of the manor, and thus the first ti he'd laid eyes on it.
The manor lacked gas pipes, feeling like a relic from before the Steam Age. As night fell, the corridor's illumination ca solely from wall-mounted oil lamps and the candles carried by those walking through, casting flickering shadows that made the painting seem even more bizarre. The subject of the painting was simple enough: two n, smiling, stood before a small house.
But the house was crooked, the landscape around it rendered in grotesque, heavy colors. And the n's faces... they both wore the grins of madn.
"What's the story behind this painting?"
He asked the three people behind him.
Mrs. Hydra shook her head silently, indicating she didn't know. The butler just shrugged and glanced at the doctor.
"It's Doctor Decter's. There used to be a cheap landscape painting hanging here."
"Yes, it's mine," the doctor confird with a shrug. "It's rather interesting, don't you think?"
Jenkins had encountered soone with a similar taste for mad, distorted art styles about half a year ago. He'd been a young art student, and Jenkins had killed him on a rainy night. Ever since, Jenkins had made it a point to be wary of anyone with similar inclinations. In a world where the supernatural was real, the ntally unhinged were often the first to co into contact with the twisted truths lurking behind the veil.
"This doctor is strange, too."
It wasn't that he was prejudiced against such tastes; everyone had their quirks, after all. Jenkins himself, for instance, liked sleeping in the living room during the winter. But so preferences were often signposts for danger, a fact he could never afford to forget.
The doctor's room contained none of the macabre things Jenkins had imagined, like anatomical specins. It was just an ordinary bedroom with an adjoining study.
The study, of course, had been converted into the manor's infirmary. This was where Doctor Decter usually conducted his examinations.
"Look, I know what you're looking for. Frankly, I also suspect Mr. Quake may have been poisoned. But you won't find any poisons here, just ordinary dicines."
The assorted bottles and jars were unlabeled, but nothing about them looked or slled out of the ordinary. None of them had the dical expertise to identify poisons, and it wasn't as if they could find a mouse to test them on. For now, the dicines were set aside to be sealed up, pending a more thorough examination by the police.
The doctor's room also contained a white dical bag filled with surgical instrunts. The scalpel inside was certainly sharp enough to serve as a weapon, but so far, no one had been stabbed.
Knowing the doctor was no ordinary man, Jenkins moved through the room, closely examining every object with his supernatural sight. He detected faint spiritual glows from beneath the floorboards under the bed and from within the ceiling. They signified the presence of supernatural materials, but that was hardly unusual for a level 1 Enchanter.
"Does the doctor live here year-round?"
Jenkins asked casually, curious about how and when Doctor Decter had beco an Enchanter.
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