Looking at Caine, Leonard smiled warmly and nodded. "Then what do you need from them?" He had worked with the old Neil and others on several occasions, so he naturally understood that divination required a medium—especially when the "protagonist" was absent. Caine thought for a moment, then turned to the butler, Krell. "I need Elliot's recent clothing that hasn't been pressed or washed. If possible, something he's worn regularly—like a piece of jewelry he's always carried." He had deliberately chosen ordinary items, rather than something that might cause ordinary people to wonder. Yet even so, Krell remained puzzled. "Why?" After asking, he added, "I have photographs of the young Elliot with me." Why? Because we needed to use divination to locate him... For a moment, Caine found himself at a loss for words. If he were to speak honestly—without mentioning anything that might breach the confidentiality clause—Mr. Klyne would likely simply turn and walk away, formally rescinding the contract and muttering under his breath, "These are all liars! If this is truly useful, I'd rather go straight to the most renowned spirit medium in Ahovah County!" He wished to test his own extraordinary abilities and also carried a simple, heartfelt desire to save others. "The carriage is downstairs," said the elderly housekeeper, Cley, as he reached into his pocket and handed Leonard a black-and-white photograph. It was a solo portrait of Elliott Vickerly, around ten years old, with longer hair that nearly covered his eyes, a noticeable sprinkling of freckles across his face, and a rather unremarkable appearance. Leonard glanced at it and then passed it directly to Cley. Cley examined it carefully, tucked it into his pocket, took up his cane, put on his hat, and followed the two ahead of him out of the Black Thorns Security Company and into the carriage waiting at the entrance. The carriage was spacious, with thick carpeting and small tables for placing items. Thanks to the presence of the elderly housekeeper Cley, neither Cley nor Leonard spoke, simply remaining quiet as the carriage moved smoothly over the steadily decreasing rain, gliding steadily across the waterlogged streets. "Good driving," he remarked. After some time had passed, Leonard broke the silence with a smile and offered a commendation. [Here, I hope the reader takes note of our domain: 101??????.??????] "Yes," Crane responded casually. The elderly housekeeper, Kelli, managed a smile and said, "Your praise is truly a privilege—we're nearly there..." Concerned about being noticed by the kidnappers, the carriage had not drawn near to the tobacco merchant Vicrole's residence but had instead stopped at a nearby street. Kelli held the umbrella and returned alone, while during her wait, Leonard continued to speak to Crane at length: "My previous speculation wasn't driven by any other purpose—only that I wanted to let you know that the notebook will surely reappear, perhaps soon." "That's truly an unwelcome inference," Crane remarked, indicating with a nod toward the coachman's position, suggesting that sensitive topics be avoided when others were present. Leonard gave a whistle and turned to look out the window, where droplets of rain slid down the glass, leaving hazy traces that blurred the outside world entirely. A moment later, Keri returned with a bag in hand, her pants muddy from rushing, and her front garments damp with water. "These are the clothes the young Elliott wore yesterday, and this is the storm talisman he previously wore." Klein took them and examined them—revealing a scaled-down version of a gentleman's suit: a small shirt, a small vest, a small tie, and so on. The storm talisman itself was set in bronze, engraved with symbols representing wind and waves, yet it failed to spark Klein's inspiration. "Now I'll go over in detail the exact sequence of events leading to the young Elliott's abduction, so you can focus on the right targets," said the elderly housekeeper Keri, settling down and recounting the nightmare experience from earlier that morning, hoping that the hard-won assistance might prove useful. Klein and Leonard were indifferent to the specific details, only concerned about the number of kidnappers, whether they exhibited anything unusual, and whether they were armed. "Three," "normal," "with guns." Once they had gathered the information they sought, they said goodbye to the elderly housekeeper, Cressy, and hired a light two-wheeled carriage nearby. Unlike public carriages, these hired carriages came in both four- and two-wheeled models, and could be charged either by distance or by time. The distance-based fare was four pence per kilometer within the city and eight pence per kilometer outside the city. The time-based fare was two shillings per hour; for journeys under one hour, the rate was charged at one hour; for journeys exceeding one hour, an additional six pence was added every fifteen minutes; for journeys under fifteen minutes, the rate was charged at fifteen minutes. In case of bad weather or urgent needs requiring faster travel, the price could be adjusted upward. Klein had heard from Professor Azkay that in the capital, Bekland, carriage drivers were well known for charging arbitrarily high fares. To him, it was quite a luxury, yet he needn't worry about it at the moment, as Leonard simply handed the coachman two one-sol bills. "By the hour," Leonard instructed, then closed the carriage door. "Where are you heading?" the coachman asked, both delighted and somewhat puzzled, holding the two bills. "Wait a moment," Leonard said, turning his gaze toward Caine. Caine nodded slightly, took out Elliott's clothes, laid them out on the floor of the carriage, and then wound the storm talisman around the head of his silver-handled staff. Holding the black staff with silver inlay, he straightened it firmly upon Elliott's clothes. In his mind, a "sphere of light" coalesced, and his calmness quickened; the brown hue of his eyes deepened, and he entered a semi-meditative state. He felt a lightness and buoyancy in his body, as if floating, and faintly perceived the ever-present "world of spirits." In his mind, he silently repeated, "Elliott's position." After seven repetitions, his hand withdrew from the black cane, yet the cane did not fall—it remained upright, standing steadily even as the carriage gently rocked. Subtle, intangible movements rippled around him, as if countless indifferent eyes were observing him. During this period, he had occasionally experienced such sensations while meditating or in a state of spiritual vision. With these faint, lingering chills, he gazed steadily at the cane with deep black eyes, silently repeating once more: "Eliot's position." As soon as he finished the incantation, the silver-inlaid, wooden, black cane fell forward, pointing directly ahead. "Proceed straight," said Kline, grasping the cane firmly. His voice was low and ethereal, as though it could reach into the unseen realms. This was one of his divination abilities—called "Cane for Finding Objects"—requiring the object to be made of wood, metal, or a combination of both. Normally, this requires two genuine divination staffs—shaped like a straight iron wire bent into a right angle, held at the shorter end and rotated to determine direction. However, as a seer, Caine, through practice, has discovered that he can now directly use this method to locate people, and that he can even substitute the staff with his hand. The direction in which the staff settles indicates the direction of the thing being sought. As for the Antigonus family's records, Caine has no memory of their appearance, no recollection at all, making it impossible to locate them. "Go straight," Leonard instructed the driver loudly, "and I'll tell you when to turn." The driver had no understanding of why this should be done, but the sense of security provided by the cash in his inner pocket, and the clear, immediate gesture of the other offering payment, made him silent and accept the instruction. The carriage moved slowly, passing one street after another. Along the way, Caine used the "staff method" several times to verify his direction. By the time the carriage had circled around a building and confirmed that Elliott was inside, it had been exactly thirty minutes since he had bid farewell to the old housekeeper, Cressy. After sending the driver away, Kline did not use Elliott’s clothes at all—he simply pressed his staff, wrapped in the Storm Sigil, firmly into the ground. His eyes deepened once more, and the few remaining raindrops suddenly spun in place. The staff tilted diagonally toward the front, and Kline pointed to a stairwell. "There." "Sometimes, I'm quite envious of old Neil. And now, I'm equally envious of you," Leonard remarked, smiling gently as he watched. Kline glanced at him and replied evenly, "This isn't difficult at all. As long as you're willing, you'll certainly learn it—your inspiration must be quite high, wouldn't you say?" Leonard nodded lightly, offering a quiet smile. "That's no good at all." He quickened his pace and stepped into the stairwell, the final drops of rain trailing behind him. Klein was afraid of wetting his formal suit, so he nearly ran to keep up. The building had only three floors, resembling a typical apartment building on Earth, with just two apartments per floor at each entrance. Klein used the "Staff of Inquiry" twice—once on the first floor and once on the second—yet the staff remained steady, always pointing upward. The two of them moved quietly, reaching the third floor. Klein then gently set the silver-embossed black staff upon the ground. Hoo! A soft breeze passed through the stairs, and his eyes changed color—deep black, as if able to absorb souls. Hoo-hoo-hoo! It seemed the surrounding air was filled with an invisible weeping. Klein's hand loosened, and the staff, wrapped with the Storm Talisman, stood miraculously still. He silently repeated the phrase, "Eliot's location," then watched as his black staff gently fell to the floor, landing silently and pointing toward the room on the right. "Must be inside," Klein said, picking up the staff and lightly tapping his brow twice. Amidst the deepening hues, he turned toward the door on the right and directly observed the various "energy fields" within. "One, two, three, four… three kidnappers and one hostage—matches the count. One of the energy fields is shorter; that must be Elliot. Mr. Klye mentioned they have two hunting rifles and one revolver." Klein spoke softly. Leonard chuckled warmly. "Let me recite a poem for them." "Why become kidnappers when one could simply be a contented member of civilized society?" He set down the bag containing Elliot's clothes and took two steps forward, his expression instantly becoming serene and sorrowful. His magnetic, low voice flowed gently: "Ah, threats of fear, hopes of crimson! At least one truth remains: life swiftly passes by."