Raised his arms, extended them, and repeated this motion over and over, Kline watched as Captain Dunn carefully pushed open the door to the watchroom. The captain's cautious demeanor, his heightened alertness, and that absurdly comical "protective gesture" kept Kline's thoughts tightly绷, much like the feeling he used to have when walking at night past rows of graves as a child. A Level 2 Sealing Object—dangerous, requiring careful and restrained use. Even the formal members of the Watchers' team lacked detailed understanding. The true extent of the danger remained unclear. Amid this tension, Kline found himself thinking deeply, unable to suppress his thoughts. Suddenly, his head went numb, as if the processor had momentarily lost power. In Kline's vision, everything slowed down—his own motion of raising his arms included. He watched Captain Dunn pause, approaching him frame by frame, as though in slow motion, and saw the captain slowly extend his palm, gently pushing against Kline's shoulder. In an instant, Klein's thoughts and gaze both returned to normal, as if the earlier experience had been nothing more than a fleeting illusion. "What happened?" he asked softly, still bewildered and with a touch of alarm. Dunne shook his head and said quietly, "Pay attention." As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and walked into the duty room, and Klein followed closely, where he saw four people either sitting or standing. One of them was Leonard, the "Poet of Midnight." The other three were people Klein had never seen before, though they shared one common trait: they were all performing a "bent-arm extension" movement, completely relaxed in posture. "Dunne briefly mentioned that there's a remarkable connection between you and the notes of the Antigonous family," he added. Then he pointed to the three strangers and said, "These ladies and gentlemen are colleagues from the Beckland parish, escorting the sealed item '2–049.' This one is Ms. Lorrata, a Sequence 8 'Digging Man,' as well as a sharpshooter." At that moment, the black-haired woman in her thirties nodded warmly to Caine. She had a pleasant appearance, not wearing a hat, dressed in attire similar to a man's—a black overcoat, white shirt, black tailored trousers, and matching dark leather shoes—with a slight upward curve at her lips. Once Caine had made his greeting, Dunn indicated the man seated behind the office desk: "Eli Hassan, another seasoned veteran like myself." As soon as he finished speaking, Caine watched in silence as Mr. Eli Hassan, dressed in a gray double-breasted windbreaker, performed his 'arm extension gesture' with increasing stiffness, as though the gears had lost their lubrication or the joints had rusted over. What's going on...? Kline was frozen in place, watching as Lorota gently pushed El. Hassen, and thus El. Hassen's movements resumed normally. Did I just act the same way? Kline was momentarily stunned, then it clicked: This was a sign of the dangerous leakage of the sealant "2–049!" What would happen if it wasn't promptly awakened? Would he become a "living corpse"? With a cascade of questions, Kline greeted the well-dressed, mature gentleman, El. Hassen, warmly. "Borgia," Dune indicated the last night watcher. He was a composed man with a scar across his cheek, his brown-yellow eyes sharp and alert, constantly observing each person present. "Let's go, everyone. We need to act swiftly—quickly finish and seal the '2–049' firmly." The handsome, slightly weathered middle-aged gentleman, El. Hassen, stood up and spoke. Hmm. And what about "2–049"? Klein glanced around curiously, not spotting any trace of sealings—of course, the areas covered by tables were invisible to those who hadn’t opened their spiritual sight. "Good," said Dune, turning to Leonard Mitchell, "you’ll take the driver’s seat. It’s best that Ciser doesn’t get involved." The Ciser he referred to was the clerical staff member of the night watch team in Tinggen City, responsible for requisitioning and purchasing supplies; he also served as a coachman, the very person who had driven Klein to Dail’s residence to meet the "seer." "No problem," Leonard said, setting aside his earlier lightness and giving a serious nod. At that moment, Klein noticed El Hassan bending down, lifting a black iron box from beneath the tables. On the box, brilliant stars and a crimson moon were engraved, radiating an invisible sense of containment. That must be the sealing object—though he still didn’t know what the "2–049" looked like. Klein studied the box with curiosity. Thud! Thud! Thud! A vigorous knocking sound suddenly erupted inside the dark iron box, causing its surface to rise and swell repeatedly. Thud! Thud! Thud! As if something terrifying had awakened within, it was violently slamming against the doors, each impact resonating deep within the hearts of every person in the watchroom. Alive? Just as Caine’s mind began to form a thought, he noticed a sluggishness in Captain Dunn’s “arm extension motion,” his joints stiff as though filled with glue. The night watchman from Beckland, Borghia, gently pushed Dunn’s shoulder, restoring his movements to normal. The condition affected by “2–049” seemed remarkably like a robotic dance routine—what if everyone were affected? Then they’d be a full ensemble of awkward dancers… Fortunately, fortunately, “2–049” appears to affect only one person at a time. Caine eased his internal tension with a series of casual remarks, maintaining strict attention to every movement of his arms. He followed Dunning's example, keeping his walking stick and trailing behind the five night watchmen as they moved through the corridor, up the stairs, and arrived at the second floor of Blackthorn Security. Thanks to Leonard's brisk pace and early notice, Rosan and the others had temporarily retreated to the third floor—though such events were not common for office staff, they were certainly not unfamiliar. Meanwhile, another night watchman, Cohen Li, stepped in temporarily to take over duty at the Charnes gate in Dunning's absence. Only once they boarded the carriage did Kline finally exhale in relief, glancing out the window with a look of curiosity. "Will the seal, '2–049,' affect the ordinary people on the streets?" Just along the route from underground to the carriage, the seal '2–049' had already caused six instances of delay, two of which affected him personally—awakened first by Captain Dunning and then by Leonard Mitchell. That frequency was truly remarkable. "There's no need to worry—the '2–049' will prioritize humanoid beings within five meters of it. The closer someone is, the more likely they are to be selected. As long as we maintain at least three people surrounding it, pedestrians passing by outside the carriage won't be affected," explained Lortah, the well-dressed woman with black hair, in a relaxed tone. A strange seal... Clain once again murmured this thought, as he raised his arms in a graceful gesture. On the way to the Riel Biber household, everyone else remained silent, constantly monitoring one another's condition, while Lortah remained entirely unconcerned, occasionally appreciating the somewhat untidy streets of Tinggen and praising the city's sewer system in Beckland. Not long after, the familiar building came into view, and the six of them moved step by step, each keeping a watchful eye on the others, up to the third floor. The door of the Riel Biber home was now marked with the insignia of the Tinggen City Police, indicating that visitors were no longer permitted to enter. Deng performed arm stretches as he pulled out the key, turning the new lock, then leaned to the side, allowing El Hassan, who was carrying the dark iron box, to enter first. Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! The seal within the dark iron box once again began pounding with renewed fury—more violent than before—causing El Hassan’s arms to sway uncontrollably, and even making Caine question whether the box would be shattered outright. Thud! Thud! Caine keenly observed that Captain Deng’s arm movements had grown stiff, and was about to reach out to wake him when his own head suddenly buzzed, then went numb. The scene before him instantly slowed into a slow-motion replay. It wasn’t supposed to affect only one person—only once—wasn’t it? Caine’s thoughts froze in place. At that moment, Loretta and Borghia, already prepared, gently pushed both of them. Restoration of cognitive function and return of normal vision left Kline apprehensive, nearly prompting him to voice a question: "Didn't they say that '2–049' could affect only one person at a time?" Good thing I hadn't stopped my arm movements! "The seal '2–049' has entered a state of frenzy, with the number of affected individuals increasing to two each time—confirmed, Riel. Bibber is a descendant of the Antigonos family," said El. Hassen in a mechanical tone. Lortata smiled lightly and looked at Kline. "Every time you encounter a descendant of the Antigonos family, even with just a trace of their presence, '2–049' becomes highly agitated and its abilities noticeably enhance. I believe you can understand its feelings." "Not quite," Kline inquired curiously. "So, is it a living being?" Lorota smiled, not answering directly: "You'll find out soon enough. As long as Rael Biber hasn't escaped from Tinggen City, Unit 2–049 will lead us to him." Kaine had no choice but to set aside his other questions and followed the night watchmen as they circled the room. With a steady, forceful pounding, they locked the door, descended the stairs, and returned to the carriage. Arl Hassen glanced out the window several times, confirming that there were no pedestrians within five meters, then placed the dark iron box on the floor and activated the mechanical switch, releasing the spiritual bonds. The fierce knocking suddenly ceased, and the entire carriage fell into complete silence—so quiet that even the breath of each person could no longer be heard. Kaine held his breath, watching as the dark iron box slowly opened, emitting a creaking sound that was almost painful to the ears. Clang! The box tipped over, and a slender, brownish arm emerged—only as long as a child's fingers. Two arms took turns pressing forward, and one by one, a series of objects the size of a normal person's palm in a warm brown hue appeared before Klein and his companions. It clearly had distinct elbow, finger, and knee joints, its body wrapped in brownish oil-stained strips, and its face painted with bright red and yellow clown makeup. It was an oddly shaped puppet! "2–049" raised its head, gazing at Klein through pure black, pupilless eyes. It slowly opened its stiff lips, revealing a clown-like smile.