Upon hearing Klein's question, the attractive lady with her brown-yellow hair elegantly coiffed showed not the slightest sign of impatience, maintaining a polite smile and said: "Our members can freely assist others with fortune-telling services and set their own prices; we only charge a modest fee. If you'd like to have a reading, please take a look at this brochure, which lists our members who are willing to offer fortune-telling services along with their rates." "However, today is mid-afternoon on a Monday, and most of our members are at work, busy with their daily routines—only about five have come in so far." As she spoke, she invited Klein to sit in the sofa near the window in the reception area, then opened the brochure on the opposite side and pointed out the members currently present at the club: "Hinnes Vanthorne, the well-known fortune-teller from Tingen, who serves as our resident mentor and specializes in various forms of fortune-telling, charges 4 sols per session." "Quite expensive... This will be enough to feed me and Bensen and Melissa for two lavish dinners..."克莱恩不禁咋舌，未作回应。 The lady with brown-yellow hair, seeing this, continued flipping through the pages, introducing each one: "...The last one, Gracis, a new member this year, who has learned tarot reading, charging two pence per session." "Mr. What would you like to choose?" asked the elegant receptionist.克莱恩毫不客套地回答: "Mr. Gracis." "..." The receptionist paused for two seconds, "Mr., I must remind you that Mr. Gracis is still quite a beginner." "Understood. I'll be responsible for my choice."克莱恩微笑着点头。 "Then please follow me." The receptionist stood up and guided克莱恩 through the door beside the reception area. There was a moderately long corridor, ending in an open conference room filled with ample sunlight, tables, chairs, newspapers, magazines, and playing cards, with a soft aroma of coffee drifting out. When the receptionist, a graceful woman, reached the room two doors before the conference room, she signaled to Crane to stop, then hurried ahead toward the end, her voice gentle: "Mr. Gracis, someone has come to consult with you." "Me?" A voice of surprise and curiosity immediately responded, accompanied by the sound of a chair being shifted. "Yes, which consultation room would you like to use?" the receptionist replied calmly. "The yellow crystal room—I particularly like yellow crystals," said Gracis, appearing at the edge of the conference room door, curiously glancing toward Crane, who was waiting a few paces away. He was a man in his thirties, with a deep complexion, dark green pupils, light yellow and soft hair, wearing a white shirt and a black vest, a pair of single-lens spectacles resting on his chest. He carried a distinguished air. The attractive woman handling the reception said little, simply opening the room adjacent to the conference room, named "Yellow Crystal." The curtains were drawn tightly, the lighting dim—seemingly only thus could divine inspiration from spirit and gods be received, and accurate readings achieved. "Good day," said Gracis, bowing with a gentlemanly grace, and stepping briskly into the room, taking a seat behind the long table. "I must admit, I was completely surprised that you chose me to read your fortune. To be honest, I've only just begun practicing this craft and still lack considerable experience. For now, I would not claim to be a particularly skilled reader—should you wish, you still have the chance to reconsider." After returning the bow, Kline followed in and closed the door behind him. He smiled, leaning on the light that filtered through the curtain: "You are indeed a honest man, but I am someone who is very firm in my own choices." "Please sit," Grace said, indicating the seat across from him, then paused for a few seconds. "Divination is merely my hobby, you see—humans often receive guidance from the divine, yet ordinary people struggle to interpret the message clearly. That is precisely the purpose of divination, and the reason I joined this club. In this regard, however, I still lack confidence. So let us treat our next session as a free exchange—how does that sound? I will cover the club's fees myself, only a quarter of a penny." "But that can't improve the accuracy of my readings," Gracis replied with a touch of humor, pausing to ask, "Are you having a headache? Would you like to read about a health issue?" "Only a little. I'd actually like to read about the whereabouts of a lost object," Klein said, already prepared, and slowly leaned back. In his eyes, Gracis's aura was clearly visible—his lungs, which had once been a vibrant orange-red, now appeared dull and thin, affecting the overall brightness. This wasn't just a sign of fatigue... Klein gave a barely perceptible nod. "Looking for a lost item?" Gracis mused for a few seconds, then said, "Then let's begin with a simple assessment." He pushed a neat stack of tarot cards across the black table toward Klein: "Take a deep breath, recall the object in your mind, silently repeat the question, 'Can we still find it?' while shuffling and cutting the cards." "Understood." Klein didn't actually remember the appearance of that ancient notebook, and had to improvise the questions he needed to recite: Could they still find the notebook of the Antigonus family? As he repeated them, he smoothly executed the shuffling and cutting motions. Gracius picked up one card from the top and placed it horizontally in front of Klein: "Rotate it clockwise until it stands upright, then flip it over. If the image is inverted—facing you backward—then the item will not be found. If it's upright, facing you correctly, we proceed with the next divination to locate it specifically." Klein followed the instructions, rotating the horizontally placed tarot card until it stood vertically. He grasped the edge of the card and flipped it over. The card showed an inverted image—face-down. "Unfortunately," Gracius sighed. Klein remained silent, his focus entirely on the tarot card now before him. The image on this reversed card shows the "Card of the Fool" dressed in splendid garments and adorned with a magnificent headdress! Another "Fool"? Isn't that quite coincidental... According to the "Hangman" and Old Neil, divination is the result of communication between the spiritual and the ethereal, with the higher self—it's merely a tool, the Tarot, used to interpret symbolic revelations. Theoretically, the choice of divination object makes no difference at all, and thus shouldn't affect the outcome... Klein furrowed his brows, pondered for a moment, then said, "Could I determine whether that object has already been claimed by someone else?" "Absolutely," Grace expressed enthusiastic agreement, nodding. Klein reshuffled and cut the cards, then silently reflected on the question. He drew the card, laid it horizontally, and, turning it clockwise until it stood vertically, carefully completed his preparations. Taking a deep breath, Klein extended his hand and flipped open the Tarot card. By no means another " Fool" again... With a sudden relaxation in his heart, he felt the cards reveal " Stars," reversed! "It seems that item hasn't been claimed yet," Grace said with a smile. Klein nodded, lifted his right hand, and lightly tapped his brow twice as if thinking, then reached into his pants pocket and produced two copper-colored pennies, offering them to Grace. "Didn't I say it was free?" Grace frowned. Klein smiled and stood up. "This is a gesture of respect for the reading." "Very well, thank you for your generosity," Grace said, rising and extending her hand. They shook hands, and Klein stepped back two paces, turned around, and walked toward the door, turning the handle. As he was about to leave, he paused and turned back, saying, "Um... Mr. Grace, I'd recommend you see a doctor soon—particularly regarding your lung condition." "Why?" Grace asked, startled. This is an unfavorable reading—does it mean a curse upon me? Cline thought for a moment and said, "It's evident from your complexion. You—you have a dark spot between your eyebrows." "Between the eyebrows darkened?" Gracis had never heard such a description before. Cline offered no further explanation, merely smiled and stepped out of the room, closing the wooden door behind him. "Is he merely an unlicensed physician, or a country herbalist?" Gracis chuckled, shaking his head, and picked up the silver mirror used for divination. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that his eyebrows indeed were darkened. Yet this was due to the environment—the dim light filtering through the curtains—his entire face, not just his forehead, appeared dark. "A rather unimpressive joke," Gracis murmured. He felt uncertain, so he performed a health reading for himself to ensure there was nothing amiss. …… When leaving the divination club, Cline now had an additional plan for the future. That is to save money quickly, pay the annual fee, and become a member of the club, thus beginning to play the role of the so-called "seer." Why not go it alone? Simply because he currently lacks resources and channels, and it's impractical to set up a stall on the street—after all, he's at least a respectable person who values his dignity. After a few minutes, he caught the public carriage, spending two pence to reach Zothlan Street, not far away. Pushing open the doors of Blackthorn Security Company, he didn't see the familiar brown-haired girl; instead, he found Leonard Mitchell, with a poet's air and dark hair and green eyes, seated behind the reception desk. "Good afternoon," he said, removing his hat. "Where is Rosan?" Leonard smiled and indicated the partition door. "She's on duty at the weapons storage this evening." Before克莱恩 could ask further, Leonard seemed to be pondering something. "Clayne, there's one thing I've been wondering about," he said. "What is it?" Clayne looked utterly puzzled. Leonard stood up, speaking in a calm, gentle tone: "Why did Welch and Naya commit suicide on the spot, while you returned home?" "It's likely that the unknown entity wanted me to take the family's notes away and keep them hidden," said Kline, stating the widely accepted hypothesis. Leonard walked a few steps, then suddenly turned and locked eyes with Kline: "If the intention was to have you perish to eliminate the trail, why didn't they simply destroy the notebook right there on the spot?"