（註
01：和訳は明日以降^^;
02：誤字脱字その他修正はちょこちょこやってきます
03：いちおう値段つけときますが、最後まで読めます：お賽銭したい方は是非チャリ〜ンしてください

Possessions Are Not Transferable

　　　　　　　by Sinjow kazma + ChatGPT

Felicity navigated through the streets of London, driving her Citroën 2CV with ease, while Jenkins sat beside her, his eyes scanning the surroundings with interest. They were headed to a mansion located in the heart of the city, a place with a reputation for being haunted by the spirits of its former occupants.
"Thanks for coming with me, Jenkins. I really want to talk to my great-grandmother's spirit tonight," Felicity said as they got out of the car.
"Well, I'm always happy to accompany a lady on a quest for spirits, especially when there's free liquor involved," Jenkins replied.
Felicity chuckled. "You're such a funny man, Jenkins."
"What do you mean, Miss? I don't recall making a joke," Jenkins said with a straight face.
"Oh, come on. 'Quest for spirits' and 'free liquor'? You're a regular comedian," Felicity teased.
Jenkins gave a small smile. "I assure you, Miss, I had no intention of making a pun. But speaking of spirits, it's not every day you get to communicate with the dead."
Felicity shivered involuntarily. "I know, right? I can't believe I'm doing this. Talking to dead people."
"And I can't believe I'm doing this. Not talking to dead people. Let's hope we both find what we're looking for tonight," Jenkins said, his tone serious once again.
"Definitely."
They pulled up to the mansion just as Felicity began, "And hey, you're not just doing this for the free drinks, are you?"
"Of course not, Miss. I'm looking after you because your father saved my life during the war. I owe him everything," Jenkins replied, his voice filled with gratitude.
"I know, and I appreciate it. But if we do find some good spirits tonight, I won't complain," Felicity said as they made their way towards the mansion.
"In that case, I think we're both in for a treat. This place looks like it has quite the collection," Jenkins said, gesturing towards the mansion's impressive facade.
Felicity nodded in agreement. "It certainly is impressive," she said, glancing up at the towering structure with its ivy-covered walls and Gothic architecture. "I read somewhere that this mansion belonged to one Reginald Algernon Percy Blackmore, Viscount of Harrington, the last of its line."
Jenkins raised an eyebrow. "The Viscount Harrington? I've heard of him. He was quite the notorious figure in his time. A man with a penchant for 'odd hobbies,' as they used to say, ...someone to be avoided at all costs."
Felicity forced her smile. "Yes, I've heard some stories myself. Seems like this place has quite a bit of history behind it."

As they entered the mansion, Felicity couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The candles flickered eerily in the drafty hallway, casting long shadows on the walls. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come. Tonight, she would finally speak to her great-grandmother's spirit, no matter what it took.
Felicity and Jenkins found the medium already present and mingling with the other guests. The medium's services were being offered free of charge as a preview for their upcoming London tour. The guests were enjoying the complimentary buffet party, while chatting and getting to know each other.
In one corner stood a woman wearing a black veil, watching everything with great interest. A man with piercing blue eyes and pale skin lurked in the shadows. An elderly socialite couple was whispering to each other and seemed to know things they shouldn't. A young girl with tangled hair held tightly onto her porcelain doll, never taking her eyes off of it. Finally, a man in top hat and tails carried a silver-topped cane and spoke in a low, threatening voice.
Felicity struck up a conversation with the elderly couple. Being employed in a wealth management company, she found the conversation fascinating. They talked about investments and the stock market, while Felicity tried her best to keep up. them.
Then the conversation turned to the mansion.
"Are you intersted in estates too, young lady?" whispered the elderly woman.
Felicity nodded. "Oh yes, I do. I'm in wealth management."
The old woman leaned in closer. "Well, then you might perhaps know already about the haunted past of this mansion."
Felicity raised an eyebrow. "Haunted past? What do you mean?"
The old woman's eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. "It's said that the spirits of the dead linger here," she said. "Ten years ago, we had a séance here, and one of the guests -- yes, a young and pretty lady full of energy, just like you -- went mad after seeing 'the thing she most feared'..."
Felicity glanced nervously around the room, noticing the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. "Do you really think it's haunted?" she asked, trying to sound skeptical.
The old lady gave her a knowing look. "Believe what you will, my dear. But I assure you, the spirits here are very real."
Jenkins cleared his throat. "I don't believe in ghosts," he said firmly. "But I do believe in the power of suggestion. Perhaps the mind can conjure up things that aren't really there."
Felicity nodded, grateful for his logical response. But still, she couldn't help feeling a chill run down her spine. The thought of being trapped in a haunted mansion was too much to bear.

As soon as the séance began, a gust of wind swept through the room, and the candles flickered wildly. Felicity's heart raced as she waited for a response.
"Ooh, someone's trying to contact me!" the medium called out.
"Great-gramma? Is that you? Is it really..."
Felicity's eyes flew open, and she recoiled in horror as she begins to recognize the ghostly figure hovering in front of her. "What the hell? I didn't summon YOU!" she exclaimed.
"I just want to start over again," the pleaded. "I can't live without you, Felicity."
"But you're dead! Like three years ago!"
Jenkins and the other guests at the table exchanged looks of disbelief as Felicity argued with thin air.
"Is everything alright, Miss Felicity?" Jenkins asked cautiously.
Felicity took a deep breath and composed herself. "Yes, I'm fine. Just talking to myself," she said with a forced smile.
"Well, you're right that I'm dead, but I reeeeeally do want to…"
"Start over?" She started again. "You followed me everywhere I went! You ditched school just to be with me! And what about all those unwanted gifts you kept sending me?"
"Those were just tokens of my love for you."
"A taxidermied squirrel wearing a tiny top hat and monocle, a custom-made portrait of yourself posing as a Renaissance-era prince, complete with velvet cape and jewel-encrusted crown, a collection of your own toenail clippings arranged in the shape of a heart, a personalized voicemail recording of you singing an off-key rendition of a drinking song, and a bouquet of wilted flowers that you claimed to have picked yourself from the cemetery!? Those were not tokens of love, they were just plain creepy!!" Felicity exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
"You know I can't live without you, baby," the apparition said, slurring his words. "I miss the good times we had together. Remember that one night we got so wasted and sang 'Whiskey in the Jar' together?"
"Actually, it was 'Tequila'," Felicity corrected him. "And the only thing I remember from that night is you throwing up all over my shoes."
"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to ruin your shoes," he said, sounding hurt.
"That's not the point," Felicity snapped. "The point is, we broke up years ago, and you need to move on."
"But I thought we had something special," he said, sounding desperate. "You were my muse, my inspiration. I know you won't just threw it all away. I know it."
"I never threw anything away because there was nothing between us to throw away, except for those darn creepy 'gifts'! " Felicity screamed. "We were only together for a few months in high school, and it was a disaster! And even if we had something, you ruined it with your drinking and your entitlement!"
"Umm, Miss?" Jenkins said. 
"Entitlement? What are you talking about?" asked the ghost, genuinely confused.
"AAAAARRGH!!"
Felicity finally gave up and turned to Jenkins. "Jenkins, do you have any ideas on how to get rid of this...this thing!?" she asked, gesturing towards the thin air.
Jenkins, who was beginning to perceive what she was seeing (or thought she was seeing) right in front of her pretty nose, thought for a moment before replying in his usual matter-of-fact tone, "Well, Miss, when faced with a persistent threat, the best course of action is to go head-on and fight your nemesis. Alternatively, you could take a more defensive stance... as you young people do nowadays with your little devices...block delete, was it?"
Felicity blinked in surprise before nodding slowly. "Yes, that makes sense. Thank you, Jenkins."
She turned to face the ex's ghostly figure and took a deep breath.
"No!" the ghost pleaded, "Felicity, don't do this to yourself! You'll regret this for the rest of your life!"
But it was too late.
Felicity shouted, "I moved on! I AM moving on! In fact, I'm MOVING EVERYTHING ON!!"
And she gestured a metaphorical "block" and "delete" button in the air.
Then everything DID move on; furniture began to fly around the room, as if propelled by some invisible force. The table in the center of the room lifted off the ground and slammed back down, causing the candles to flicker wildly. The guests cried out in alarm, their chairs and other nearby objects suddenly hurtling through the air. The medium herself let out a high-pitched scream, her eyes bulging in terror as she struggled to regain control.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!" she shouted, crouching down and covering her head with her arms. Another let out a blood-curdling scream as a candleholder whizzed past his ear, narrowly missing him.
Felicity herself was caught off guard as a large vase flew towards her from behind, hitting her on the head with a sickening thud. She stumbled and fell to the ground.
Jenkins rushed to Felicity's side, screaming her name in terror. But Felicity had lost consciousness, and everything went black.
The guests were still screaming and running for the exits, but Jenkins remained by Felicity's side, cradling her head in his arms, when the ex's ghostly figure with a shocked look on his face was slowly dispersing into thin air.  

…Felicity sat shotgun as Jenkins took the wheel, insisting she should not drive home after that 'vase incident' as he kept referring. They sped down the dark and winding road, gaining speed.
"So, old boy, how are YOU feeling?" Felicity asked, trying to break the tense silence."do you believe in spirits now?"
Jenkins chuckled to Felicity's question, with his hands on the wheel. "I'm not sure I believe in anything anymore, after what I've just experienced."
She raised an eyebrow. "You mean the séance?"
He nodded. "Yes, and the banishing of your ex. That was quite a show."
Felicity laughed. "Well, he deserved it. And I'm glad you enjoyed it."
They continued to chat for a while in the ever speeding car, exchanging jokes and stories, but Felicity couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.
"Speaking of which," Jenkins mischievously asked, "how did you persuade yourself to go out with that miserable wretch of a man in the first place?"
Felicity smirked. "I have a thing for reclamation projects. Remember, I'm in wealth management."
Jenkins nodded. "Fair enough. But who knows, maybe he will find some other hapless girl to torment."
"That's not my problem anymore. Besides, I have other things to worry about."
"Like what?"
"Like trying to figure out why my car seems to be driving itself."
"Is that so?"
"That is so."
"Hmm. But this speed is a mesmerizing sensation. I feel quite... lively," Jenkins replied, his voice now eerily accented and aristocratic.
Felicity furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"
He chuckled, "Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Just enjoying this auto-mobile."
As they drove, Felicity slowly began to notice things - the way Jenkins held the steering wheel, the way his fingers moved. And a dark, black ring on his middle finger.
"Where did you get that ring?" she said.
"Oh? This has been in my possession for long time. Quite a long time."
Long time. Possession.
"you weren't wearing that when we went in to the mansion."
"Was I not?"
"Nope."
"Can you affirm?"
"Can do."
"When you came in?"
"Yep, and..."
The it hit her.
Jenkins turned his head slowly, a strange glint in his eyes.
The car careened down the road, the wind howling like a banshee in her ears, urging them on faster and faster.
"You... you're not Jenkins," she stammered.
"In a sense, you are correct," the possessed Jenkins let out a deep, throaty laugh. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Harrington, Reginald Algernon Percy Blackmore, Viscount of Harrington, to be precise. You may adress me as 'my lord' or 'milord'; and I must say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Felicity felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead as she looked over at the possessed man beside her. Harrington. The name of the last and rightful owner of that haunted mansion. The man with 'odd hobbies.' Someone to be avoided at all costs.
"What do you want?"
Lord Harrington grinned with Jenkins' lips, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, just to have a bit of fun. After all, as it is refered on occasion in your prefession, 'certain possessions are not transferable'."

　　　　　　　　　THE END

うーん、もうちょっと文字数増やして副詞をいじくるか？？？
まあでもゼロから数日でここまで作れたのは、まずまずの実験結果…

とゆわけで御講評お待ちしてま〜す^^

追記：
んで事後検証…ChatGPTは（膨大だけど既存の／有限の）コーパスから学んでるので、この短篇と同じ設定・同じキャラ・同じオチの作品がどっかにあるかも…いやあるはず！…という新城の妄想を（否定的にでも肯定的にでも）立証してくださった方には、新城から初代「チューリング警察・上級捜査官」位を贈呈いたします^^;