The man was an ordinary doctor from the hospital. Just monts before, he had extracted three sharp bone fragnts from the stomach of an unfortunate red-haired young man lying on the operating table.
"Isn't it a bad habit to smoke in the operating room?"
Jenkins inquired with a wry smile.
"It's fine. This isn't your run-of-the-mill tobacco. A whole pound sterling gets you just a few shreds of it. If it weren't for the generous pay from this urgent church mission, I wouldn't be able to indulge. Thank the goddess, praise the Sage!"
He exhaled a plu of yellow smoke, then deftly traced the holy emblem of the Sage across his chest.
Such was the state of the tis: subpar dical practitioners, primitive techniques, and a deeply conservative mindset.
"Praise the goddess, and praise idealism," Jenkins thought wryly.
He watched as the wound beneath his hand writhed and knit itself together, the flesh healing at a visible rate. He let out a long, internal sigh of relief.
The scene looked chaotic, but in truth, the most critically wounded wouldn't have survived the long ocean voyage. In the end, fewer than twenty patients required Jenkins's assistance.
By sunset, his work was done. As he sat in the church carriage, ready to return, Captain Bincy inford him that his contributions on this urgent mission had cancelled the five-hundred-pound debt he owed for choosing his [Astral Perception] ability. Jenkins let out a profound sigh of relief.
His available savings were dwindling. Gold pounds ca and went with alarming speed. The fifty pounds in his money clip were already earmarked for purchasing "Star Shards" at the gathering in two days. Once again, Jenkins felt the familiar pinch of being poor.
As he stepped out of the carriage in front of Pops Antique Shop, Chocolate, who had been feigning sleep with his eyes shut, flickered his ears a few tis before leaping onto Jenkins.
"You're back. Did it go well?"
Papa Oliver asked, setting down an iron box he had been examining.
"There weren't too many wounded, but so of the injuries were beyond my ability to treat. I could only..."
"You've done more than enough, Jenkins. All we can do now is offer our blessings for the Scribes who perished. They fought for the Sage, and their sacrifice was a glorious one."
Jenkins nodded. "I heard from Captain Bincy that the malevolent spirit at Nolan Public Hospital No. 5 has been vanquished. Does that an Nolan City can expect a period of peace?"
"No."
Papa Oliver shook his head. "The circumstances surrounding that spirit are far-reaching. Leaving aside the black-robed figure who made off with the Mysterious Object again, we still have no idea how that poor woman ca to possess it in the first place."
"The woman? You an the spirit?"
Jenkins asked, inwardly congratulating himself on his acting skills.
"Yes. The spirit itself was a pitiful woman from the slums who scraped by gluing matchboxes and taking in laundry. So ti ago, she contracted a bizarre illness. After trying her own ho redies and the local witch doctor's poultices without success, her only recourse was to seek help from the gentlen at the hospital."
He shook his head and said no more.
This was exactly what Jenkins had seen in the mories he'd accessed.
"But the divination wasn't entirely without results."
Jenkins's heart skipped a beat as Papa Oliver continued.
"That Mysterious Object created several spirits capable of possession. The Enchanters who were guarding the seal all vanished recently, and it's undoubtedly connected. Furthermore, the black-robed figure wasn't the only Enchanter present last night. Clues suggest three unregistered Enchanters were caught up in the incident. We've already apprehended two of them."
"Apprehended?"
"Yes." Papa Oliver set down a small blade he'd assembled from antique gears and tossed it aside with a disappointed air. "The five churches of Nolan City issued a clear warning: unregistered Enchanters are forbidden from approaching Nolan Public Hospital No. 5. Since they violated that decree, they must face the consequences."
"Just an excuse, isn't it."
Jenkins imdiately understood their true motive. After all, those three had seen him.
"If you're interested in earning the bounty, keep an eye out. The Enchanter we haven't caught is a woman, a follower of the pseudo-god known as the 'Wondrous Musical Score.' Her known aliases in Nolan City are 'the Perforr' and 'Skylark.'"
Chocolate wagged his tail happily, its soft fur brushing against his master's astonished face.
The Enchanters Jenkins had saved that day were two n and one woman. Skylark could only be Miss Hersha.
"Life is full of surprises."
Cradling his cat, Jenkins ducked into an alley, intending to take a shortcut ho. "But I thought Miss Hersha followed the Earth Mother Goddess? Is she a syncretist, or has she been faking her faith?"
He carefully sidestepped puddles of stagnant water, then leaped onto a steam pipe, balancing himself as he navigated the chaotic alleyways. A woman sat in a corner, catching the last rays of the setting sun as she washed a coarse brown robe. She glanced at Jenkins in surprise, then simply picked up her chipped wooden basin, turned away, and resud her work.
As he rounded a corner, Chocolate owed, and Jenkins was caught completely off guard as a soft hand seized his wrist.
He instinctively started to swing a fist in retaliation, but a faint, familiar fragrance stopped him short.
A pair of soft lips pressed against his. In a fluid motion, the petite, red-haired young woman spun, putting her own back to the wall. Her left hand knocked his cane away, then slid up his spine, pulling him flush against her. At the sa ti, her right hand reached down, lifting his right leg until his knee was pressed firmly against her hip. Praise the Sage!
In less than two seconds, they were posed like a pair of lovers caught in a passionate kiss.
Her nimble tongue pressed against his lips but didn't venture inside as she panted heavily through her nose. The hand on his back was surprisingly strong; he couldn't even struggle free.
He inhaled her sweet scent with every ragged breath, a fragrance that managed to cut through the otherwise unpleasant city air thick with smoke and steam. It was... enough.
Jenkins, held in the unexpected embrace, heard the frantic pounding of footsteps approaching from behind, only for them to quickly fade into the distance.
Behind the pair locked in their "kiss," a young dog handler nad Nicholas, accompanied by Enchanters from the Church of the Unlit Moon and the Church of the Storm Lord, rounded the corner in hot pursuit with two hounds. One of the n had been treated by Jenkins earlier, and Nicholas himself had seen Jenkins's file at the church. With a soft chuckle, he murmured a word to his companions, and the group continued on, following the swift hounds as they disappeared down the end of the alley.
"Hah... hah..."
Jenkins gasped for air as the red-haired girl pushed him away, not even noticing Chocolate's claws digging into his shoulder.
He subconsciously ran his tongue over his dry upper lip.
"Miss Hersha?"
The young woman's attire was completely different from her usual style. She wore a pale yellow overcoat, its hem nded with patches, and a pair of wide, black trousers spattered with mud at the cuffs.
"Why are you blushing?"
The young woman, who was always so quiet and demure at Miss Mikhail's side, now possessed an unexpected and forceful presence.
"I..."
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