Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 43: Very Cool

It was close to midnight, and the Society for Natural Philosophy had closed its doors to its members.

However, the Security & Special Operations team members weren’t just regular members.

Abel, Henry, the Commander of the Team, Hugh Preston, the tall and lanky gentleman, George Chapman, and finally the burly gentleman, Francis Digby, sat at the bar.

Every one of them had a glass of bourbon and a cigar served to them by the Chief Steward of the Club, Billy. Everyone except Abel, that is.

"What sort of Albion man abstains from drinking or smoking?" George Chapman joked. "You’re an odd fellow, Abel."

"Yeah, it’s not my thing, really," said Abel, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He had a glass of lemon cordial made by Billy. That was all.

"You really ought to try this cigar, Abel," Henry, who was sitting right next to him, tried to persuade. "It is imported from one of our southern colonies. Top quality, I assure you."

Abel hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head. "No, thanks. I’m good"

"Come now, gentlemen, no need to press the lad," said Hugh Preston as he took a puff from his cigar, savoring the rich taste of tobacco before exhaling.

He turned to Abel and continued, "If I may be so bold, do you intend to leave your residence?"

"Yes, sir. Tomorrow." Abel nodded.

"Good." Hugh nodded. "Now that you are in the employ of the Trust, it is only fitting that you elevate your living arrangements."

"...Yes, sir." Abel’s lips twitched.

"Your physical training commences this Monday," said Hugh with a faint smile. "I trust you are looking forward to it?"

"I am!" Abel nodded, his eyes flashing with anticipation. "Sir, what will be included in my training regimen?"

"Ah, the usual," said the Commander. "Firearms, hand-to-hand combat, field tactics, and the like."

His expression turned serious and he added, "But I must remind you, Abel, that I have great expectations of you. Therefore, I trust you will maintain diligence in your training."

"Yes, sir!" Abel straightened his back. "I will do my best."

"Good lad," Hugh revealed a faint smile. "Once you have mastered the fundamentals, we shall commence your training in espionage for future undercover assignments. Furthermore, the Trust will arrange a linguistic instructor to tutor you in foreign languages."

"Languages, sir?" Abel asked with an arched eyebrow. "As in multiple languages?"

"Indeed." Hugh nodded. "As a Field Agent of the Ministry, you are expected to be fluent in multiple languages."

Abel was a little doubtful about learning multiple languages. "I... will do my best, sir."

"Rest assured," said Hugh. "Once your spirit energy has settled and fully assimilated with your body, you will find your mental faculties much improved. Learning several languages will not be so difficult then."

Abel recalled how his memorization skills were already beginning to show improvements. After all, he was able to recall almost everything that he learned during Madam Whitmore’s study sessions.

"Alright, sir." Abel nodded, feeling a little excited.

"Lastly, we will also work towards refining your Hallmark," Hugh Preston said with a knowing smile.

He paused, taking a sip of bourbon from the crystal glass, before gazing at the steward who was silently standing still on the other side of the bar.

"That will be all, Mr. Tate," he said. "Should we require anything further, I will summon you."

"Very well, sir." Billy pressed his hand on his chest, offering a slight bow. "I bid you a pleasant evening, gentlemen." With that said, he withdrew from the main hall.

Abel watched him leave, thinking to himself if he too was an Occultist. At that moment, Henry’s words rang in his ears.

"He’s not an Occultist if that’s what you were wondering."

Abel turned to look at him, his brows creased together. "You sure your Hallmark isn’t related to mind-reading?"

Henry chuckled, as he took a slow drag from his cigar. "He’s like one of the Dormants I mentioned earlier—the ones with the lowest security clearance. They know the supernatural exists, but nothing beyond that."

"Then, how do you ensure he doesn’t open his mouth?" Abel asked, curious.

Henry’s expression turned solemn and he answered, "We employ what is perhaps the most vital asset at our disposal."

"W-What is it?" Abel started to imagine all kinds of ominous scenarios.

Henry leaned forward and said in a grave tone, "It goes by the name... sterling." ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"Pfft—" George Chapman almost spat the drink in his mouth. "Hahaha!"

Hugh and Francis as well couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

Meanwhile, Abel’s lips started to twitch incessantly. This guy...

Just you wait! One of these days, I will play such a prank on you that you will pee your pants!

"Ha-ha, very funny!" Abel rolled his eyes at his friend. He then turned to the Commander and asked, "Sir, how does training one’s Hallmark usually go?"

Hugh Preston set his cigar down on the crystal ashtray. He took a sip of bourbon to warm his throat before explaining, "Enhancement-type and Transmutation-type Occultists are generally the simplest to train, as their progress depends solely on pushing their physical limits."

He pointed towards the two men sitting on his right and added, "Francis’s Hallmark is an Enhancement-type, focused on strength, whereas George possesses the same type, but his is attuned to speed."

"Ohh!" Abel gazed at the two gentlemen with bright eyes. "No wonder their constitution is like that. Cool!"

Henry chimed in with a smile, "By that, he means simply marvelous!"

"You sure have a way with words, Abel," Francis chuckled lightly.

"Hmm." George showed a pondering expression. "But I must say, ’cool’ has a rather nice ring to it."

"I know!" Abel grinned. "It’s cool, right?"

George nodded, toasting his glass of bourbon. "Indeed, very cool."

Seeing their interaction, Hugh Preston smiled warmly. He liked the fact that Abel was getting along well with the rest of his teammates.

"Then, comes the Summoning-type Hallmarks," Hugh continued. "Most Occultists possessing this Hallmark have the ability to conjure weapons forged from their own spirit energy. For example..."

The man raised his hands slightly, then with a flick of his wrists, he conjured two identical daggers!

"Woahh!!" Abel’s mouth was wide agape.

Eliciting such a reaction, Hugh displayed a slight smirk. "Those with Summoning-type Hallmarks must train not only their bodies but also with their weapons."

With another flick of his hands, the twin daggers disappeared. He then pointed at Henry and Abel, continuing, "When it comes to training Elemantal-type and Aberrant-type Hallmarks, I would place them in the same category."

Abel turned to look at Henry with a smug expression but found that the latter’s expression was even more smug than his.

Henry lifted his chin and smirked. "Hmph!"

"I am quite looking forward to assisting you in honing your Hallmark, Abel," said Hugh with a smile.

Abel turned to look at him and excitedly nodded. "I am too, sir!"

"You are also the only Aberrant-type Occultist currently in our team," Hugh said in passing.

"Are Aberrant-types rare, sir?" Abel asked, curious.

"You can say so." Hugh nodded, taking a drag from his cigar.

Suddenly, Francis chimed in, "Although, there was once an Aberrant-type Occultist on our team, Abel. It was before you joined."

"What happened to him?" Abel asked, a foreboding feeling gripping his heart for no reason.

Seeing his expression, Francis calmly assured him, "It is not what you think."

"She moved to Winchester after completing her Second Trial," George Chapman chimed in, his expression tinged with slight bitterness. "The Director even wrote a reccomendation for her."

"Wait... she?" Abel’s brows furrowed.

"Yes," said Hugh, "you have met her before."

"Don’t tell me..." Abel was stunned.

"Indeed." Hugh nodded with a faint smile.

"Her name is Emily Thompson."