The next morning, Monday. Having rotated off duty, Klein stayed at home and handed Melissa a letter to his mentor, Quentin Cohen, along with the extra postage fees, entrusting his sister to deliver it to the post office near Tinggern Technical School. After breakfast, he leisurely made up for the sleep he had missed during his workday, only rising again when his stomach rumbled toward noon. He warmed over the leftovers from the previous evening, ate a piece of oat bread, and then took a newspaper into the bathroom inside the second-floor restroom. Every time, he found himself sighing at the absence of a phone. Thirty minutes later, refreshed and hands clean, he returned to his bedroom and locked the door behind him. Then, he drew the curtains, lit the gas lamp, and practiced meditation for thirty minutes, followed by thirty minutes of clairvoyance, pendulum work, and divination with a staff. He reviewed one hour of esoteric knowledge through the method of recollection. After completing these tasks, he tore the old newspapers into several clusters and labeled each with material names such as "Moonflower Candles" and "Full Moon Essential Oil," carefully simulating the ritual magic process step by step to master its nuances. Before he became fully proficient or learned more, he didn't want to attempt ritual magic haphazardly, as that would waste materials and often bring danger. Again and again, Caine picked up the silver-white pocket watch engraved with vine patterns, opened it, and checked the time—finding it had just passed 2:45. After a few seconds of thought, he carried the old newspapers down to the kitchen on the first floor to burn them, using the process to stabilize his own state and prepare for the Tarot gathering. He then locked the bedroom door once more and decided not to wait for three o'clock, but instead to enter the gray mist early. He wanted to make good use of this opportunity to thoroughly explore it! As Klein was about to begin walking counterclockwise from the station to the room, now free of concerns regarding whether Justice and The Hangman had entered an appropriate setting and might be disturbed or discovered, he suddenly recalled a matter: he had once mentioned that he wanted to devise a way so that, should Justice and The Hangman indeed be unable to attend or encounter some unforeseen circumstance, they could formally "request leave" and miss the gathering. For the previous Klein, this had been nearly impossible—he could never have established an instant communication network in another world manually, and wired telegraph systems would have revealed his presence. Now, however, he found inspiration in the ritual magic: the handwritten sequence "101??????.??????" with no errors. He realized that ritual magic involving external assistance always sought the aid of distinct entities, and such incantations typically began with clear references—such as "the God of Night," "the Lord of Crimson"—or descriptions of those unknown, hidden beings. "Then, could I modify the incantation so that the initial description points directly to me?" "Points directly to me..." "Once that's done, even if the rituals of 'Justice' and 'The Hangman' are performed far away in a foreign land, I would still receive corresponding information." Klein's spirit suddenly stirred, and he began assessing the feasibility of this approach: "There are two challenges. First, I am not yet a high-sequence entity of sufficient strength. Even if the description indeed points to me, I may not receive the request at all." "Second, how can I ensure that the description precisely targets me—so that it doesn't veer off course or hit another unknown entity that fits the description? That would pose a significant risk." Klein paced back and forth, pondering possible solutions. His footsteps were silent as he circled repeatedly, naturally linking this matter to the mysterious world above the gray mist. "I can't receive the 'request,' which doesn't mean the gray mist isn't capable—it's actually known to directly 'pull' people into space, transcending distance when combined with the deep crimson star." "Perhaps we should consider linking my presence with that mysterious space in any directional descriptions..." "Following this line of reasoning, while I may not immediately receive the 'request' during their ritual, as soon as I enter the realm above the gray mist, I'll be able to see the corresponding information." "In short, it's just like the difference between online and offline messages on QQ." Klein grew increasingly excited, convinced this approach warranted a try. "Hmm. Then what should we use to precisely point to me and to that world of gray mist?" he began pondering the specific details. In truth, he had a certain incantation that would surely succeed—the pure Luon pronunciation of 'Fu Sheng Xuan Huang Tian Zun.' However, the issue was that it would cause him to lose control over the realm above the mist, to relinquish his position of leadership, so he decided to set it aside. "...A Fool from another world? Not quite. That's accurate—almost no one else could qualify. But it would reveal my greatest secret..." Kaine went through one after another of his incantations, only to reject them each in turn. After seven or eight minutes, he finally settled on the first, more specific description in the incantation: "A Fool not of this age." This still wasn't precise enough. Kaine quickly added another phrase: "The mysterious sovereign above the gray mist." Together, these two descriptions now nearly pinned him down, and linked the gray mist directly to himself. "Still not quite there. There might be multiple realms above the gray mist, multiple sovereigns. This description might even point to the realm of spirits..." Kaine furrowed his brow, deciding to add one more layer of protection. Hmm... After considering it for a full minute, he finally settled on the final description: "The King of Good Fortune, of yellow and black!" This is a close approximation of the meaning of "Fusheng Xuanhuang Emperor." If presented alone, it might easily be misinterpreted or even lead to unforeseen dangers; however, with the preceding two qualifications—particularly the established instances of this entity entering the gray mist through similar incantations—the described being is now fully identified. While克莱恩cannot be certain whether the ritual magic performed according to these three passages will yield results, he is confident that it will not draw the attention of other entities, nor will it place the "Justice" or "The Hangman" at risk. 克莱恩exhaled deeply and silently recited the incantation he had prepared: "O fool of a time unbound, you are the mysterious sovereign above the gray mist, the sovereign of fortune, the King of Yellow and Black..." He gave a barely perceptible nod, pulled out his pocket watch, and checked the time. "It's two fifty-eight," he said, then set the watch aside, entered meditation, and, following each incantation, walked four steps in a counterclockwise direction, forming a perfect square. The most intense noise and the most stirring cries rose once again, and he felt a headache more unbearable than that caused by the "Seer's" potion. This was not the sharp pain of a wound piercing his head, but a swelling, agitating, disorienting pressure that drove him mad and caused him to lose his senses. Through meditation, Caine controlled himself, striving not to listen. The murmurs and whispers receded like a tide, and his body grew light, his spirit light—everything became hazy. An endless gray mist filled his vision, with deep red stars at varying distances, like eyes watching. Upon the gray mist, the grand palace, towering like a giant's dwelling, stood firm, as if it had existed here for millions of years. With a mere thought, Caine vanished from his place and sat at the head of the bronze long table, where twenty-two high-backed chairs awaited. The ritual effect indeed solidified… He murmured a single phrase, lightly tapped his brow, and allowed a dense, gray-white mist to envelop himself—more concentrated than ever before. As described by "The Hangman," if "Justice" were to become the audience, it would be best not to reveal any gestures or movements before her. With no time to investigate, Caine extended his right hand, establishing an invisible connection, reaching out to the two familiar deep red stars. ……… Beckett, Queens. Audrey Hall leaned against the velvet pillows, studying the warm, parchment-like paper once more, her gem-like eyes seeming to hold two slowly rotating spirals of soul. Her gaze was calm and clear, as if anticipating the unfolding of a drama. A deep red surged forth, and she watched herself being absorbed with an attitude of quiet observation. …… Above the gray mist, within the grand palace, the bronze long table was weathered and ancient. As Audrey Hall’s form began to take shape, Caine, already attuned to spiritual sight, turned his gaze toward her. Without surprise, he saw the hues within her aura blend into a unified, pure tone—still, serene, like a lake reflecting things with perfect clarity. She had indeed become a remarkable one. As Caine prepared to shift his gaze, he suddenly noticed a change in the high-backed chair belonging to the "Justice" lady. The brilliant stars on the chair’s back swiftly moved, forming a celestial constellation that existed beyond the realm of reality. To Klein, this constellation felt so familiar—it was a symbol within the realm of mysticism. A symbol representing the "Dragon!" The audience... the Dragon... Klein controlled himself from shaking his head, instead gazing intently at the high-backed chair of the "Hangings." Normally, from his vantage point, he wouldn't be able to see the chair's back, but here, in his own domain, everything unfolded according to his will. The constellation behind the chair remained unchanged, yet Klein—now a seasoned mystic—no longer felt bewildered. He recognized it as a symbol of "Storm." Sailors... Sea-wardens... Storm... that made sense. The hue within the "Hangings'" aura had grown even more refined. Had he advanced? Ah, what symbol now adorned the back of his own seat? Klein restrained his impulse, as before, lightly tapping the edge of the long table three times, and smiled. "Congratulations, Miss Justice—you are indeed a remarkable one." Could he see it directly? Audrey paused, offering a gentle smile. "Thank you, thank you, Sir Fool, and thank you, Sir Temperance." "Faster than I expected," Aljer Wilson said calmly. Klein didn't pursue the topic further, tapped his brow thoughtfully, and smiled. "Madam, sir—have either of you found Rosel's journal?"