Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 55: Foreign Neighbor

The following day, Abel woke up with a determined look in his eyes. He was ready to delve wholeheartedly into the mysteries of ritual arts.

After what happened to him in the mirror world the previous day, he chose to be more cautious in his actions.

All this while, he had been subconsciously thinking that just because he miraculously got a second chance at life he was impervious to the concept of death.

However, that was simply him being extremely foolhardy.

He got up from his bed and stretched a little. The rays of the early morning sun filtered through the window and gently brushed against his face, making him squint.

His gaze was then drawn to the mirror mounted on the wall, his expression complicated.

"Fuckin’ hell," he cursed under his breath.

The youth reached out for the silver pocket watch that he had placed on his bedside table. Flipping the watch open, he noticed that the time was 7:00 am.

I have enough time to go on a morning jog, then return home, freshen up, and then head to the Club, he thought. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

The youth took the Commander’s advice to build up his stamina very seriously.

He quickly got dressed in comfortable clothes before leaving his flat. Just as he was locking his flat, he saw the door to Flat 3B slightly ajar.

Curious, he stepped closer, hoping to finally meet his neighbor.

As he approached the door, a pungent smell assaulted his nostrils, causing him to immediately grimace.

My God, how long has it been since he’s cleaned his flat? He thought.

Then, his eyes were drawn to strange markings made on the floor of the main hall. These markings seemed to be drawn with some kind of ivory dust.

There were also other items that he couldn’t quite recognize. Abel’s eyes narrowed and he took another step forward.

What’s that? he thought.

Right at that moment, a tall and lanky young man appeared behind the door, blocking Abel’s vision.

This man seemed to be around Abel’s age, probably a little older. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a simple linen shirt and trousers. He had dark circles under his eyes and his appearance was a little unkempt.

He looked at Abel with a polite smile and greeted, "Good morning! You are the new tenant next door, yes?"

What’s with that accent? Abel thought.

"Good morning, sir." He nodded. He then offered a handshake. "Abel Bishop. A pleasure to meet you."

The young man’s smile faltered as his gaze shifted from Abel to his extended hand. He then shook the youth’s hand and introduced himself, "Sergei Petrov."

Abel’s brows couldn’t help but furrow. "You’re from Ruskovia?"

Sergei’s smile deepened. "Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not." Abel laughed awkwardly. "It’s just that I’ve never seen a Ruskovian here before."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Bishop." Sergei nodded, stepping out of his flat and closing the door behind him. "I must say, there aren’t many Ruskovians in this city. But Winchester... there, you will find many of us."

"I see." Abel nodded. Wanting to know more about his neighbor, he asked, "So what brings you to Albion, Mr. Petrov?"

"I have come for higher education, you see," said the Ruskovian with a charming smile. "I have an interest in languages, Mr. Bishop. Albionese and Gauliennais—I find them very interesting."

Abel’s lips twitched as he thought to himself, This guy came all the way from Ruskovia to learn the national languages of Albion and Gaulienne. Fuck... Is this guy rich or something?

"Alright!" He nodded with a smile. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Petrov. I shall be on my way."

Sergei simply responded with a nod and a smile. He stood standing with his hands behind his back and silently watched Abel descend the stairwell.

After the youth was out of sight, Sergei’s smile vanished. He turned to gaze at Flat 3A for a brief moment before entering his own flat and slamming the door shut.

...

Abel didn’t think much of that brief interaction with his next-door neighbor.

He went for a jog around the Everton neighborhood, and by the time he was done, it was already close to 8:30 am.

The youth took a shower and quickly got dressed. He reached The Society for Natural Philosophy by 9:00 am.

Although his classes with Madam Whitmore didn’t start for another hour, there was a reason why he had come here early.

Breakfast.

More precisely, free breakfast!

Of course, regular members at the Club had to pay to take part in the fine dining option that was provided thrice a day.

However, Abel was no regular member.

The Club served a scrumptious breakfast tailored to the refined tastes of its members. It reflected Albion culinary traditions, offering a hearty and elegant selection.

Abel had been following the same routine every weekday. He would come to the Club an hour before his occult classes started and enjoy the full Albion breakfast.

He lazily sat on the single-seater leather couch after eating like a king. Suddenly, the chief steward of the Club, Billy Tate, approached him from the side.

The old man, dressed in fine and crisp clothes, bent over and respectfully said in a low voice, "Mr. Bishop, the Madam is here."

Abel immediately got to his feet. "Thanks!" He nodded at the old steward and quickly made his way to the library on the first floor.

With great familiarity, he navigated the floor and arrived before the bookshelf that concealed the secret path. He then pulled the red hardcover book on the fifth row from the bottom before entering the dimly lit passageway.

Inside the secret room, he found Madam Victoria comfortable seated on the couch by the fireplace and smoking from her pipe.

"Ah, there you are, dear," said the elderly woman as she saw Abel enter. "And how is your work with energy regulation coming along?"

"Not bad." Abel shrugged. He removed his top hat and set his cane aside as he took a seat across from the woman.

"Physical augmentation comes easy to me," he added. "I can already coat my entire body with spirit energy."

Madam Whitmore silently nodded, taking a long and slow drag from the pipe and savoring the rich taste of tobacco.

"But sensory augmentation..." Abel spoke with a wry smile. "I haven’t been able to progress much in that department."

The truth was, he could easily mimic others utilizing spirit energy to physically augment themselves. Of course, he still had to understand the underlying principles.

However, using spirit energy to augment one’s senses required a certain level of finesse that wasn’t that easy for Abel to mimic.

"Patience, dear boy," said the elderly woman. "Your progress is already quite commendable. There is no need to rush. All things will unfold in their proper time."

Abel nodded. He then asked hopefully, "Madam, since we’ve covered the fundamental theories of occultism, do you think we could start studying one of the three pillars?"

Honoria Whitmore deeply looked at the youth before nodding. "Truth be told, I’m quite impressed that managed to grasp the basics in just a week. Very well, what would you like to begin with?"

Abel didn’t hesitate for even a moment before answering.

"Ritual arts!"