After the tea and a small set of neat mooncake desserts, Jekyll left ten spirit stones behind.
He had enjoyed the quiet here, enough to pay for it five times over. Then his feet carried him higher.
At the closed third level, guards stopped him. They did not frown, and they did not posture.
"Halt there, state your business," said the white-robed guardsman.
Jekyll offered his prepared mask, co-founder of the Groundshrank Armadillo Intelligence Agency.
The two white-robed ghosts shared a look and nodded. They let him pass.
Not long after, Jekyll met an old man. Regal nobility hung on him, but without the usual high-handed stink.
With a casual nod, a chair and table appeared to the side, materializing out of thin air.
"Visitor, you have journeyed from afar," Eldric said. "Be seated. A long road deserves a quiet moment."
Jekyll's eyes scanned for blood. The man in front of him was alive. He could hear the heart.
Still, the beat came slow, too slow for an ordinary man. Too calm.
