"Are you free on Sunday night, I'm looking for help."
She is straight to the point.
"Have you found Fermisius?"
While talking, the two approached the shadow by the wall at the same time, hiding themselves in the darkness.
"Of course not, but I found a small stronghold of pirates in Nolan. I didn't intend to ignore it at first, but the clues provided by Miss Bailing tonight are very interesting. Mi Xiu connected together."
Jenkins thought about it, and there was nothing wrong with him Sunday night.
"How many enemies are there?"
"There are less than ten ordinary people, and there is also a third-level gifter. There is no need to show such an expression, I am asking you for help, just to make the action faster. You know the current situation of Nolan, I don't want the church to focus on it I."
"That is to say, I can go to guard."
"If I just want to find a sentry, why should I go to you? I hope that you can solve those people as much as possible without making noise... such as your lamp."
Hearing this, Jenkins looked into Miss Magic's eyes. She had dropped her disguise while the two were talking, and was now talking to Jenkins in her real face.
"Okay, so what can I get?"
"The spoils are split in half. Besides that, I owe you a favor."
"no problem."
Jenkins nodded in agreement, wondering if he needed Miss Magic's help now.
In this way, a tiring and fulfilling day is over, but it is also a safe day. After returning home, Jenkins did not continue to sleep in front of the fireplace, but returned to the bedroom on the second floor.
Chocolate is throwing a tantrum because he doesn't want to leave his familiar sleeping environment. After finally carrying the cat from the sofa to the second floor, it showed an unconvinced attitude.
After Jenkins lay down, the cat kept harassing his face to keep him from falling asleep. Because of the cat's mischief, Jenkins had to find a small blanket and wrapped his cat like a mummy, leaving only the head exposed. Of course, in order to prevent the cat from being hurt, it is not difficult to escape as long as it struggles.
When he woke up on Saturday morning, Chocolate was still asleep in the "package", which made Jenkins very worried that his limbs would become stiff due to the restraint all night, and even cause permanent damage to his body. But the cat saw that it was still alive and kicking out of the small blanket, and then reminded Jenkins to make breakfast, and the writer, who was not good at keeping cats, was relieved.
Use the usual time for breakfast to read the newspaper to write out a speech for a while, and then put on a formal suit and tie before going out. Jenkins is not sure whether cats are allowed in the art exhibition, but Chocolate will never agree to wait for Jenkins in an antique shop. Jenkins can only bring it with him, and asks not to use other people's paintings to sharpen his claws.
This art exhibition is not a formal official event, so not many people come. Jenkins was preceded by a well-known young painter from Nolan and a city hall official in charge of cultural advocacy.
It could be seen that the first two were not very willing to waste time here, so they simply said a few words and came down. When the organizers announced that Jenkins would take the stage, there was a small stir, but soon most people lost interest in the boring speech again.
After the speech, the art exhibition officially began. People who were originally crowded in the entrance hall went to different exhibition areas. Jenkins didn't need to stay here anymore, but since he was here, he planned to take a stroll before leaving according to the etiquette, and he just saw the old painter Grant who invited him.
Mr. Grant's main job is a painting teacher for aristocratic families. Last year, he agreed to cooperate with Jenkins in order to pay off his son's gambling debts. Probably the debt has been paid off. When I saw him again at the beginning of this year, the spirit of the old man was obviously much better, and he was even more beaming today.
He was wearing a taupe overcoat and a flat-topped beanie, which made him look much younger. The old painter was very happy that Jenkins could come, and didn't care that his real purpose was to attend the opening ceremony.
There seemed to be fans of Jenkins among the crowd participating in the art exhibition. In order to avoid those enthusiastic girls, Jenkins took the initiative to go to a remote exhibition area with Grant.
It was a small hall cut off by black blackout curtains. The exhibition hall was located in the center of the building, so there were no windows, and the gas lamps on the walls were not turned on, which made it very dark.
But here is not completely without light, a kerosene lamp with a weak flame is placed under each painting on the wall, so that visitors can barely see the paintings on the wall.
The theme of this gallery is death and the end, so the paintings on display are mostly dark and full of bizarre fantasies and confusing patterns.
Jenkins' artistic level cannot appreciate this style of painting, so he just quietly listened to Grant's explanation, and sighed "Yes" and "That's it" from time to time to show that he was listening.
"...so the value of this painting is much lower than the one that was auctioned a few days ago. After all, the painter is not dead yet, he can produce more similar works, and merchants will not set an excessive price for this kind of painting s price."
"So, paintings by dead painters are generally very valuable."
"Paintings by famous dead painters are usually very valuable."
The old man said this, and then said with emotion that after his death, his works will gradually be appreciated by others, and even put on the auction house.
This kind of statement is very unlucky, Jenkins thought about it and expressed it euphemistically. But the old man didn't care. He was very open-minded about death, thinking that it was a day that everyone would usher in, and it was just the beginning of another great adventure.
Walking around the exhibition hall, Jenkins couldn't help but began to wonder whether some of the authors of these paintings were mentally disturbed, and thus he thought of the young painter who was shot dead by him on a rainy night last autumn. When the two walked out of the exhibition hall, Mr. Grant was going to the toilet and asked Jenkins to wait a while, and Jenkins took his cat and sat down at the entrance of the exhibition hall.
The art exhibition is not a celebration, it is elegant and quiet, and there will be no food stalls. So Choco was not very interested in this place. After being hugged and struggled in his arms by Mr. Writer, he widened his eyes and looked at the decorative painting of cats fluttering butterflies on the opposite wall.
"I know you've always had bad thoughts about that lost butterfly, don't think about it, it's impossible for you to eat."
He stroked the cat's small head and warned.