"Jenkins, aren't you awake yet?"
Seeing him ask, the thing disguised as Miss Mikhail opened its arms again, trying to embrace Jenkins, but he shoved it away.
"Stop this ridiculous ga if you want to live!"
He threw a punch, only to feel his whole body being shaken.
He opened his eyes. It was still the dead of night. Miss Lawrence, dressed in her nightgown, was gripping his shoulders, while Chocolate cried out anxiously beside them.
"Mr. Williams, wake up!"
When she saw Jenkins's eyes open, she seed to realize the awkwardness of the situation and imdiately stepped back.
"I'm sorry," she started, "you were frowning and seed to be having a nightmare..."
"Oh, it's alright. Just a bad dream... Is there sothing I can help you with?"
He rubbed his temples as he spoke, a dull ache throbbing from lack of sleep.
"I'm so sorry, but could you please accompany to... the restroom? Briny and Hathaway are fast asleep, and I couldn't bring myself to wake them."
She fidgeted with the hem of her nightgown, her voice barely a whisper. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she stared down at her slippers.
"So you felt fine waking up instead?"
Jenkins grumbled inwardly, but still threw back the covers to accompany Miss Lawrence.
He glanced at Chocolate again. The cat was acting perfectly normal, just like any other feline.
But Chocolate had never been a normal cat. Right now, it seed to have lost all its unique spirit, reduced to a common house pet. Even without looking into its eyes, Jenkins knew this wasn't his cat.
Jenkins's expression darkened, and a surge of fury washed over him.
"The sa trick twice? There's nothing I hate more than soone trying to fool by taking a woman's form!"
With that, he threw another punch and jolted upright in bed.
Gasping for breath, he glanced at his pocket watch. It was still three in the morning.
Just then, a woman's hand pushed the door open. Hathaway entered, dressed in a thin nightgown and looking alard.
"Jenkins, what's wrong? I thought I heard a strange noise from your room?"
"Your turn now, is it? Can't you be a little less predictable? You want to get in my bed, too?"
he asked, his voice laced with exasperation, as he prepared to throw another punch.
"Ah, Jenkins, what are you talking about?"
Hathaway's face instantly turned crimson. She shot Jenkins an indignant "Hmph!" then spun around and fled the room.
"A sinking feeling..."
Jenkins muttered, scooping up the cat as it lazily stretched to its feet. He stared into its large, amber eyes, still as beautiful and srizing as ever. Deep within those pupils was the unique spiritual spark that belonged only to Chocolate—sothing impossible to replicate.
"Gulp."
He swallowed hard and collapsed back onto his pillow, his face a mask of terror as sweat stread down his forehead.
"Chocolate, did I just say sothing I shouldn't have?"
"ow~"
The cat dug its small claws into the back of Jenkins's hand, scratching furiously until red marks appeared. The sting of the pain snapped him out of his stupor, only to be replaced by a surge of even greater fury.
"How dare it deceive ! I am the God of Lies!"
He didn't dare face Hathaway to explain, so he could only direct his rage at the true culprit.
He yanked the blanket over his head, and seconds later, his breathing beca slow and even. The cat, looking worried, nudged its way through a small opening at the edge of the covers, concerned the childish man might suffocate himself.
As his soul left his body, the [Dream Soul Departure] ability allowed Jenkins to easily perceive the dreams of those around him. Naturally, it was even easier to sense the entity that had just tornted his own dream. It hadn't gone far—it was now inside Miss Rick's mind.
"Fine. I'll show you what dreaming is really about!"
His soul shot directly into Miss Rick's dreamscape. After passing through a barrier that felt like the skin of a soap bubble, his spiritual form slowly descended, entering the woman's consciousness.
Jenkins's ability to manipulate dreams might not have matched his target's, but the sheer substance and power of his soul were on another level. As a result, his intrusion went completely unnoticed. A good start.
"Let's see if this dream-weaver has anything to do with the dayti murderer."
The dreamscape was the complete opposite of the blizzard raging in the real world. It was a scene from early spring. A gentle breeze caressed his skin, the air was filled with the fragrance of fresh grass and damp earth, and cheerful birdsong filled the air.
Jenkins found himself sitting on a chair in a grassy field, surrounded by dream-constructs. The seats were arranged on either side of a red carpet. Though he'd never attended one quite like this, it was unmistakably a wedding.
The bride was naturally the drear herself, Miss Yula Rick, and the groom was another traveler, Allen Garcia. Jenkins wasn't surprised. He'd heard about their relationship from Hathaway, and besides, when he'd rescued them the night before, they had been unconscious with their heads resting against each other. That spoke volus.
What did surprise him, however, was that the imposter hadn't replaced the groom. Instead, it had taken the form of a clown performing at the edge of the ceremony.
"Huh? Why would you invite a clown to a wedding?"
Naturally, no one answered his question. As he mulled over the oddity, soone beside him struck up a conversation.
"Jenkins, this is wonderful! Yula is finally with Mr. Garcia!"
The speaker was Hathaway—or rather, the version of Hathaway from Miss Rick's subconscious. She looked just as she had minutes before, only now she wore a slightly more mature dress.
"And next month, we'll..."
Her voice trailed off as she blushed and lowered her gaze.
"So this is how Miss Rick sees my relationship with Hathaway. Heh, how amusing."
An ordinary person's mind usually lacks the power to sustain a vast and detailed dreamscape. As soon as Miss Rick's focus shifted away from Jenkins and Hathaway, the girl beside him fell silent and still.
Jenkins mimicked her posture, sitting perfectly still while secretly studying the clown, trying to figure out its intentions.
The wedding began shortly after. Everything seed normal, except for the exaggerated excitent of the guests. Jenkins was forced to play along, though he felt none of their elation.
"In the na of the Righteous God, the Master Artisan"—a nod to Garcia's faith—"do you, Allen Goodbyer Garcia, take Miss Yula Anke Rick to be your wife?"
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