As he did every morning, Jenkins ate breakfast sandwiches with his family, downed a glass of cloyingly sweet milk, and took a carriage to Pops's shop. When he pushed the door open, he was surprised to find Mr. Brough had already beaten him there.
He pulled the silver pocket watch from his coat pocket and snapped open the lid. It was only eight in the morning.
"Good morning! You're certainly here early."
Jenkins greeted Mr. Brough politely and hung his overcoat on a hook by the counter. The kitten, Chocolate, was lounging comfortably on the counter. It lifted its head, let out a soft "ow" at Jenkins, and then leaped nimbly onto his shoulder. Though still small, its balance was excellent, allowing it to perch there securely.
Pops nodded at them and gestured for the two to head upstairs to talk.
"I must admit, I truly never expected your book to sell so well."
He began with a shower of praise. If Mr. Brough's respect for Jenkins during their last eting had been due to Pops's influence, this ti it was entirely personal.
As per their agreent, Mr. Brough handed Jenkins forty gold pounds in cash right then and there. The actual amount due was slightly less, but Mr. Brough generously claid he didn't have the correct change.
The "Stranger's Story Collection" retailed for ten shillings, roughly a week's wages for an average working-class family. While the exquisite illustrations certainly contributed to the steep price, to truly affluent, high-inco households, it was considered quite a bargain.
A farmhand, a soldier, or a typist might earn twenty-five pounds a year, while the lowest-paid shop assistants, servants, or embroiderers made between twelve and twenty. The profits from just the first printing of his book had already exceeded the annual inco of most of Nolan City's working population.
Mr. Brough was already planning a second print run of two thousand copies and intended to contact booksellers in other cities to distribute the book across the kingdom. While his own press and bookstore were local, he had many connections in the industry.
Jenkins had already discussed this with Pops, and they both agreed it was a fine plan. Going through the Church's network to find booksellers and publishers would certainly be secure, but it would also risk exposing their identities.
Their discussion lasted nearly two hours. Mr. Brough clearly valued Jenkins's talent and was willing to offer generous terms on the profit share. Just like that, the second and third printings of the "Stranger's Story Collection" were settled. As he was leaving, Mr. Brough even paid Jenkins an additional one hundred pounds in cash as an advance for their continued partnership.
Naturally, they had also decided to raise the book's price.
"Mr. Williams, I don't suppose you've given any thought to your next book? I eagerly await our next collaboration."
"I'm still mulling it over, but rest assured, you will be the first partner I approach."
After seeing Mr. Brough out, Jenkins hurried to begin his daily transcription. He had already lost a considerable amount of ti.
Pops shuffled over.
"Congratulations. Have you decided where you're going to move?"
"I'm still thinking about it. Now that I have the gold pounds, I plan on taking so ti this week to look at places."
"That's a good idea. Business has been slow lately, so if you need to take a day off, just let know."
"I will."
Jenkins didn't beat around the bush. He thought for a mont before asking, "Pops, do you think I should keep writing? I an, I only wrote the 'Stranger's Story Collection' to earn enough money to move out. Since I've already done that, is there any point in wasting more ti on it?" 𝙍âɴօ₿ĘS
"How is that wasting ti?"
Pops asked, puzzled. "You have a real talent for it, and being an author is a useful identity for socializing and getting around. Why would you give that up? Besides, as an Enchanter, you'll have plenty of expenses. You've been to the black market—a few hundred gold pounds is practically pocket change there. Earning money from your writing is an excellent solution. If I'd had an opportunity like yours when I was young, do you think I'd still be opening this shop every day at my age?"
"I think your life is hardly strenuous. It's the perfect retirent!"
Of course, he only dared to think that. Saying it aloud would surely set Pops off.
Since the topic had turned to money, Pops rembered sothing else.
"You've been with for a month now. This is for you."
He pulled ten 10-pound notes from his pocket and slid them toward Jenkins. "The items we turned over have been appraised. This is your share."
Jenkins blinked, only now rembering that transaction.
"This much?"
"You only received three percent of the items' actual value."
Pops gave him a look that suggested he was making a mountain out of a molehill. "Also, the appraisal results are in for that ring we acquired on the day we t. It's B-09-5-8392, the Ring of Giant's Strength. The Church of War and Victory lost it thirty years ago, and they're currently negotiating to buy it back. As for that strange harmonica from the flesh puppet, there were no records of it, so it's been designated B-10-3-0123, The Suicider's Final Chant. The item is being kept by the Church now. If you ever need it, you can apply to use it, but you'll have to state your purpose."
"What a coincidence."
Jenkins remarked, "I've noticed that most of the Extraordinary items we've co across are already docunted in the Church's records."
"That's no coincidence."
Pops said pointedly, "Very few Extraordinary items can be artificially created. Their primary sources are still Mysterious Realms or spontaneous generation under special conditions. That's why most of the things you'll run into are antiques."
"What does The Suicider's Final Chant do?"
"If you channel your spirit into it, it will play the music of its last ordinary owner. The lody acts as an indiscriminate ntal attack."
"Then how was that flesh puppet unaffected? It didn't seem to react at all."
"Its soul underwent a mutation during the process of separating from its body, making its reaction to that kind of ntal attack sluggish."
Pops continued, "Aside from plugging your ears, the attack is impossible to resist—even a helt made from B-04-5-1080, the ntal Blockade tal, wouldn't work. Those with stronger souls have a greater resistance to the music. Take that day, for example. I collapsed the mont I heard it, but you were still able to move."
Jenkins gave an awkward laugh. That was the one suspicious detail from the incident, but Pops had conveniently omitted it from his report to the Church.
Pops shot him a sideways glance and said nothing more.
The ntal Blockade tal they had ntioned was one of the few artificially created, B-class Extraordinary items controlled by the Church. The technology belonged to the Church of the Storm Lord; Pops had said it was discovered during a large-scale deep-sea expedition.
Reviews
All reviews (0)