Miss Thompson took a sip of black tea from the porcelain cup, gazing at the old man before her with inquisitive eyes.
She had arrived at his office after bidding farewell to Luke. After all, she had to report to the man—her former superior, the man who taught her everything about being an Occultist.
It was a bald man who sported a thick beard and a neat mustache. He had quite the sturdy build for someone his age. He looked fit and healthy, and had the air of a military man around him.
Currently, he was only wearing his black trousers, a white shirt, and a black waistcoat over it. It was none other than John Kensington.
"Whatever has sparked your curiosity about him, Director?" Miss Thompson asked, intrigued.
"Emily, the lad awakened his pineal gland through the old method," John answered flatly.
Emily Thompson was visibly shocked at that discovery. "Through the old method, you say! And he survived?"
She paused for a moment before nodding in understanding, the shock still visible in her eyes. "I see… So that explains why he couldn't control all that spirit energy spilling from him."
John looked at his student, and former team member, with a solemn gaze and asked, "So, what's your take on the boy?"
Emily recalled Luke's strange speech mannerisms and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, "Well, I must admit, Sir, he is certainly an interesting one."
"How so?" John's eyes narrowed. "You don't suppose he's under the influence of a cursed spirit, do you?"
Emily quickly waved her hand. "No, nothing of the sort. It's just…" She paused for a moment before continuing, "He isn't well versed in social etiquette and says the most peculiar things. Quite amusing, truly."
"What peculiar things?"
With a thoughtful tilt of her head, Emily replied, "Oh, where do I begin? He has a rather peculiar way of phrasing things, as if untouched by the conventions of Albion society.
"He has a habit of speaking with such frankness, as though he has never been bound by decorum. And his views… why, they are far more progressive than he seems to realise."
John's eyebrows knitted together as he said, "When I spoke to his professors at the university, they told me Abel has always been a loner. He keeps to his studies and rarely engages with others."
"Is that so?" Emily raised an eyebrow. "Well, he did mention he has always been a bit of a loner."
She paused for a moment before continuing with a faint smile, "But he has just had a near-death experience, has he not? I reckon something like that ought to change a person completely."
"Hmm." John's eyebrows gradually straightened and he found himself nodding ever so slightly. "Perhaps."
He then asked, "What's this I hear about his progressive views?"
Emily recalled her conversation with Luke and began, "Well, for one, he believes that working class should have better wages, shorter hours, and safer conditions.
"He expresses sympathy for labor protesters, but he fears disorder. He values reform, but only if it does not tear society apart."
"Interesting." John's blue eyes gleamed with a keen light. "This suggests that he believes society functions best when change is managed carefully, rather than forced upon it, eh?"
Emily nodded as she took another sip from the porcelain tea cup. After setting the cup down with a clink, she continued with a light smile adorning her lips, "He casually suggested that women should be allowed to pursue education and careers rather than being confined to marriage and domesticity."
"Hoh!" John let out an amused chuckle. "Now, would you look at that!"
"Even some of the more progressive women in Albion society would find his views shockingly ahead of the times," remarked Emily.
John couldn't help but let out another chuckle, "It would seem that my wife and Abel would get along quite well, then."
Well, if he has views like that, I can see him get along with almost all the women he meets, Emily thought to herself with slight amusement.
"And what does he think about the government?" John asked.
"He expresses deep cynicism for the politicians," she said. "He sees them as corrupt and self-serving. He has no inclinations towards becoming one either."
John hummed, gesturing for Emily to continue.
"What came across the most shocking to me is his detached attitude toward religion," she said. "When you informed me that his parents were affiliated with the church, I assumed he would be a deeply religious person."
"And he is not?" John asked with a slight frown.
Emily shook her head. "He is less devout than expected. He treats religion as a private matter than a societal pillar. What's more, he speaks of medical advancements and technological progress like they are inevitable!"
To most common people of Albion, his confidence in science would make him sound borderline heretical.
Hearing that, John couldn't stop his lips from curling up into a light smirk. "Interesting."
"Indeed." Emily nodded her head. "I find his ideas refreshing, but also shocking. I struggle to decide if he's an enlightened thinker or simply an eccentric."
She hesitated for a moment, before speaking, "Sir, there's something else."
"What is it?" John reached out for a cigar from the metal case. He stuck a match and then started smoking.
Emily spoke after a long pause, "He was able to mildly resist my powers, but I don't think he realizes it. Could this be due to his strong spirit energy?"
"Doesn't surprise me," said John as he exhaled a plume of smoke sideways. "Spirit energy is the bedrock of power, Emily. A man who masters it has no need to lean on the Hallmark like a crutch."
He paused for a moment before making an educated guess, "If he was able to subconsciously resist your ability, he might have a talent for sensory augmentation."
Emily nodded in agreement. She couldn't help but ask, "If his spirit energy is already capable of this much, I wonder what would happen when he truly awakens his powers."
John replied in a flat tone, "That will depend on whether he can pass the First Trial, and whether he emerges from it still human."
The office soon descended into silence. The life of an Occultist was far from ideal. Although the Trial of Ascension granted them otherworldly powers, failures could result in equally horrific consequences.
"When is he expected to face the First Trial?" Emily asked after a long period of silence.
John rested the cigar on the glass ashtray before replying, "Five days."
"I would like to witness it as well, Sir."
John looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow before nodding. "To be honest, even I am quite looking forward to it. I have only read about people awakening through the old method."
He paused for a moment before adding with a chuckle, "Come to think of it, in ancient times, before the rituals were perfected, only the most strong-willed could become Occultists.
"After all, those who awakened naturally had a nine-in-ten chances of dying. In many ways, this was the trial before the First Trial, ensuring that only the most worthy gained powers."
Hearing those words, Emily couldn't help but greatly admire the ancient Occultist. They were the ones who looked death in the eye and declared, 'not today!'
She suddenly recalled a part of her conversation with Luke earlier. She looked at the old man and stated, "Sir, have you investigated the circumstances that led to Mr. Bishop's near-death experience?"
Hearing that question, John Kensington couldn't help but shake his head, his lips curling up slightly in amusement, "I have, Emily, I have."
"It was quite…" he paused, trying to find the right word, "unexpected."
Emily's blue eyes twinkled with curiosity. She could sense a fantastic source of gossip approaching. "Pray, do tell, Sir!"
"Okay, but you can't tell a soul."
"Naturally!" Emily lied.
…
42 Millbrook Street.
The entirety of Millbrook Street consisted of two-story terraced houses for the working class people that lived near the waterfront district.
Unit number 42 belonged to the Bishop Family. Abel, his brother, and his parents used to live in this house.
Now, it belonged to Luke.
After having a filling breakfast at Finch & Son's, Luke returned home without delay. Although he could have taken the shared public carriage, he chose to walk it.
He liked to walk.
Now that he had had a good night's sleep, recovered his shock and fatigue from the transmigration, and even had a hearty meal, it was time for him to get to the bottom of Abel's death.
He figured that his home would be the best place to start looking for clues.
As soon as Luke entered his house, he stepped foot into the sitting room. It was the main living space on the first floor—which was the ground floor in Albion terminology—and was sparsely furnished, with only two chairs and a small table by the window.
Other than that, there was the back room which served as the kitchen. There was no bathroom inside the house. In the backyard there was a small wooden outhouse with a cesspit that served the purpose.
Luke didn't want to even think about his bathroom and hygiene conditions, knowing that it would make him truly cry. That was a problem for another time.
He climbed the steep and narrow staircase to the tiny upper floor that only had one room—his bedroom.
Opening the door, he saw his study table on the right side and the wooden cupboard to the left; the single bed was directly in front of him, pushed against the wall.
Abel used to keep a journal. Maybe I can find some clues in it, he thought.
He took a seat in the wooden chair by the study table and then pulled the drawer. Inside, he saw the bloodied envelope that he had on him the night he transmigrated, the broken hand mirror, and finally the journal he was looking for.
Luke's eyes lit up and he retrieved everything inside the drawer. He placed all the items on the wooden table and closed the drawer, when suddenly he froze.
"Wait…"
His heart started beating faster and faster. He hadn't retrieved all the items from the drawer. He had missed one.
When he opened the drawer again, his breathing turned shaky and his heart started pounding wildly.
Inside the drawer, his gaze fell upon an item he was certain he had thrown away.
The coin!