Tic, tic, tic. The horse hooves moved forward, the wheels rolled, and as Celine activated her "Spirit Sight" and turned to gaze, she couldn't see the gentle, sweet young lady she had hoped for—her eyes were filled only with the scene of the brown carriage drawing closer. At this stop, all passengers who had intended to take the public horse carriage had now boarded, the carriage doors now firmly shut and gradually receding. Inside, twenty or thirty human figures, crowded close together, their energy fields overlapping and masking one another, appeared to Celine in a vibrant, kaleidoscopic display—so colorful and dazzling that she could hardly distinguish one from another. She nodded silently, then raised her hand to lightly tap her brow, closing her "Spirit Sight." To her, what had just happened was a simple, sincere sentiment—offering help when one encountered someone. But if one missed someone and the situation wasn't particularly clear, there was no need to keep lingering or delaying her own affairs. Bathed in the rosy glow of the moonlight, Caine strolled back home along the still lively Xinyuan Street, where he spotted Melissa seated at the dining table, intently working on her school assignments under the bright gas lamp. She lightly bit on the pen holder, her brow slightly furrowed as she struggled to concentrate. "Where's Bensen?" Caine asked casually. "Oh...," Melissa lifted her head, pausing a few seconds before responding, "He's been walking through several districts today, so tired he's sweating all over—he's going to take a long bath to relax." "Alright," Caine smiled, suddenly noticing that Melissa was wearing a long dress he had never seen before. The dress was a soft off-white, featuring modern, leg-of-lamb sleeves, with delicate lace ruffles at the neckline and hem. Otherwise, it was simple and unadorned, embodying a light, everyday elegance that perfectly highlighted the youthful spirit of a girl in her late teens. "A new dress?" Caine asked, smiling. This was a purchase that both he and Benson had strongly insisted on. Melissa nodded: "I just picked it up from Mrs. Rochelle; I thought it would need washing, so I decided to try it out first." Cline listened with some curiosity: "Mrs. Rochelle?" Wasn't that the former neighbor? Melissa nodded and explained seriously: "Mrs. Rochelle is actually a seamstress, though she hasn't been very fortunate and has had to take in sewing work at home, so her situation is, well, a bit difficult. I know her work is excellent, and it's cheaper than buying from a ladies' dress shop—also, it fits perfectly. I ordered a new dress from her for just nine shillings and five pence. In just a few days, the same style of dress would cost a full one pound and fifteen shillings at Harrods!" "So thrifty with the household—well, I know that, and I think at least half of it comes from sympathy for Mrs. Roche. Cline didn't criticize Melissa's initiative; instead, he smiled and asked, 'When did you last go to Harrods?' That store, near the Horace district, close to the Divination Club—something a middle-class household could truly afford." "...," Melissa paused, a little stumped, before finally saying, "It was Serena and Elizabeth who insisted I come along. Honestly, though, I actually prefer gears—I like the steam and mechanical things, you know." "Girls occasionally shopping at department stores, you know, is quite good," Cline reassured his sister with a smile. After a few more casual exchanges, eager to wash off the lingering bar atmosphere, he hurried up to the second floor. Just as he was about to return to his own bedroom to fetch his laundry, he suddenly heard movement coming from the bathroom near the small balcony. In just a few seconds, Bensen wiped the hair that was slowly receding and stepped out the door. "How was it? Did anyone praise Melissa's new dress?" he spotted Kline and smiled, asking. "I seem to have forgotten— I only asked where it was made," Kline thought for a moment. Bensen immediately shook his head in amusement. "What a poor brother! Melissa has been holding onto that long dress since she first received it, and only after finally finishing the meal and washing the dishes did she rush to put it on—she's still wearing it now." "…She didn't want to change until after she took a bath, didn't she? And she wanted to iron and hang it up too," Kline instinctively countered with Melissa's explanation. "Hmph," Bensen sighed, "the weather has been warmer these days, and she's been busy in the kitchen for so long. I think she'll feel much more comfortable writing her homework after a bath than she does now." Ah, yes—Kline suddenly understood, and smiled at his brother. Oh, Melissa is quite like this, then… It’s no surprise that a woman cares about her appearance—there’s no need to find an excuse or make a fuss about it. A gentle smile played at the corner of his lips as he lightly shook his head and walked into his own bedroom. Benson, leisurely flipping through the newspaper, smiled and said, "It's Beckett Monboddo, one of the police officers in charge of the Iron Cross Street area, who asked us today if we'd seen a young man, around eighteen or nineteen, with a round, pleasant face. He even provided us with a sketch for identification. Unfortunately, neither I nor Melissa have seen him before—otherwise, we'd have earned our reward. What about you, Crane?" "No," Crane probably understood now. The "Instigator," Tris, had successfully escaped from the area around the Dock District's Dragon's Pub and made it to the vicinity of Iron Cross Street and Narcissus Street, prompting the police visit. This development clearly indicated that the pursuit of the "Instigator" was nearing failure! Crane didn't dwell on this matter further, as he had yet to begin his combat training and his shooting skills were still just beginning. To now consider confronting a natural "assassin" was simply to risk his life. That night, he slept restlessly, constantly fearing that the "instigator" would slip into his home and hide, setting up another bloodbath. Fortunately, Waterlily Street remained peaceful all night, and the morning sunlight dispelled all the lingering gloom. Relieved, Caine donned his formal attire, donned his hat, and carried his cane, making his way down to Zothlan Street, where he greeted Rosan at the reception hall. "Good morning, Caine," Rosan replied cheerfully, lowering her voice, "I heard the major operation last night didn't go as planned?" "Ah, the operation to capture the 'instigator,' Tris?" Caine asked curiously. "Yes, yes!" Rosan nodded emphatically, glanced at the partition, and said, "It seems the line personnel of the Substitutes' team spotted the 'Instigator' at the dock area. Originally, their plan was to wait for the arrival of another extraordinary individual and a special police task force before launching the operation, aiming to resolve the matter without disturbing ordinary people. Unfortunately, the 'Instigator' proved exceptionally perceptive and detected the issue early, managing to break through and escape successfully." "During such a situation, they'd need an extraordinary individual with tracking abilities—someone like me," said Kline, adding with a light remark. "At that time, there weren't actually any shortages in tracking personnel," suddenly broke in Duan Smith's voice. Rosan swiftly turned her head, spotting the captain dressed in a black coat, leaning lightly against the partition frame, his deep gray eyes fixed on her. She quickly raised both hands to cover her mouth, then shook her head vigorously, indicating that she had said nothing at all. Dunne shifted his gaze to Caine and after a moment of thoughtful reflection said, "The Substitute, the Mechanist, and our Watchers—more than six extraordinary individuals—have been tracking the injured Tris all the way down to the Lower Cross Street, where they discovered his temporary residence. Yet the trail ends here. Whether through extraordinary means or ordinary investigation, everything falls silent. He simply vanishes—like he suddenly evaporates." The entire morning thereafter, he continued as before—delving into esoteric courses, reading historical documents and literature, and practicing certain techniques. As lunchtime approached, Klein began to grow increasingly distracted. A few minutes later, he gathered his materials and followed his hunger. At that moment, Dunn Smith arrived at the clerical office, speaking in a low, calm tone: "Klein, come with me to Charnes Gate. The seal, Item 2–049, has been delivered and will now require your intuitive connection to the accompanying notes for the next phase of operations." "…Certainly," Klein replied, rising. His thoughts began to swirl—imagining the appearance of the seal, wondering whether this mission might prove hazardous. In this slightly tense silence, he followed Dunn down the stairs into the corridor. After straightening through the intersection, Dunn suddenly stopped, turned his head, and spoke seriously: "You must perform this movement continuously—absolutely never stop. Remember, never stop. This is directly related to your safety!" At the same time, Dunn bent his arm, then straightened it, straightened it again, and bent it once more, repeating this cycle without interruption. Klein watched the captain's demonstration in quiet confusion, then suddenly had a flash of insight: "Because of the special nature of the sealed object?" "Exactly," Dunn nodded with great seriousness, "This movement allows us to detect any issue with you immediately, enabling timely rescue and ensuring your safety." "Understood," Klein said, without further hesitation, and began performing the "bend-and-extend motion." "If one arm grows tired, simply switch to the other," Dunn added. The sealed object, 2–049, truly seems unusual... What exactly is the significance of this motion? Looks very dangerous... Caine's thoughts raced as he carefully glanced at the captain and said, "Very well." He had countless questions in his mind, but with Charnis coming into sight, he had to hold them in. After all, given his security clearance, he probably wouldn't know the details—he could only follow instructions. Caine exhaled and followed Captain Dunn to the watchroom outside the gates of Charnis.