Oh no! They've been taken over by the puppets! Either the team is unconscious... or still recovering, unable to even rise up... there's simply no time left... to awaken me! Not possible... I must... save myself! To克莱恩, everything he sees now plays out like a slow-motion replay from a lifetime ago, as if glue is being poured into every joint and his thinking brain. He has no interest in becoming a real puppet. Seizing the fleeting moment when his control is still partial, he desperately searches for a way to save himself. He tries to hit himself... definitely... won't work... he must... rely on external force! External force! With no time to waste, no time to overthink, in just a few seconds,克莱恩 catches a spark of inspiration, and with effort, drives his stiff knee joint to pivot counterclockwise, taking a step backward. At the same time, he didn't try to break free from the invisible rope tightening around his throat. Instead, he silently murmured: "Fú shēng... Xuán Huáng... Xiān Zūn..." He hoped to awaken himself through the mysterious world above the gray mist, to escape the assimilation by the seal "2–049." By this stage, he knew he had been nearly completely controlled, even if El Hassan rose promptly and rushed to rescue him, it would likely be impossible to awaken him. Yet, driven by an unyielding desire to survive, he silently recited the final incantation: "Fu... sheng... xuan... huang... tian... zun..." As soon as the words settled, the chaotic, frantic cries and murmurs suddenly erupted, sweeping away the stillness in Caine's mind and shattering it into a cascade of uncoordinated thoughts. Caine's mind became a pot of boiling broth—he felt his body growing lighter, his spirit drifting. Once again, the boundless gray-white mist and the distant, varying deep red stars appeared before him, vast, mysterious, hazy, and indistinct. Caine's scattered thoughts quickly settled, and his capacity for thought returned, allowing him to see the majestic, grand temple rising before him. "Phew… Good thing it worked." He murmured, a bit relieved. Based on his prior observations, he knew that once deeply ensnared by the seal "2–049," it would essentially mean death—under normal circumstances, no medication could save him. Fortunately, his "transport ritual" and the mysterious world above the gray mist fell outside the ordinary! Walking back and forth, Caine began to reflect on his current situation: "I can't possibly stay here forever, can I?" "Once the captain and the others awaken or come closer, the situation will no longer make sense." "Right now, I'm just a shell—more like a corpse than a living person." "But if I risk going back, I can't guarantee my safety… What if I'm controlled again by '2–049'?" … As thoughts flowed one after another, Caine suddenly tapped his forehead and chuckled softly. "It seems I haven't truly adapted to being a Seer yet!" Before he had finished speaking, his figure appeared at the head of the bronze long table, seated in the high-backed chair adorned with strange symbols. Cain extended his hand and picked up the steel pen that had materialized before him. With swift, fluid strokes, he inscribed a passage on the ethereal white sheet: "Returning to the real world is safe." Then, Cain drew forth the projection of his "Spiral" from his pocket—here, the projection had become somewhat translucent, as he had observed over several gatherings that any object he carried could project onto the gray mist, though always with a sense of faintness. Holding the silver chain in his left hand, he brought the yellow crystal pendant nearly into contact with the paper, touching the "event." As the motion settled, he half-closed his eyes and silently repeated the words inscribed on the paper: "Returning to the real world is safe." "Returning to the real world is safe." Again and again, Cain performed the complete "Spiral" ritual without omitting any step. With his eyes open, he saw the pure yellow crystal pendant swaying slowly, causing the silver chain to rotate clockwise. Clockwise meant affirmation; counterclockwise meant denial... returning to the real world was safe. Klein exhaled, habitually folding the silver chain, then expanded his spiritual awareness, enveloping himself and simulating a sudden, rapid descent. The hazy gray mist and deep red stars surged upward in swift, ethereal motion, and soon Klein saw himself standing still, half of his body suspended outside the iron box, the brown wooden figure motionless, and noticed that the seal itself had seemingly stopped moving entirely. Sensations from his body reached his mind as he prepared to raise an arm to verify his state—suddenly, a voice, hidden within the wind, reached his ears: "Would you like to be awakened? Simply agree to one thing, and you shall be saved." "The thing is to help me pick up the family notes of the Antigonous lineage." "Agreed—nodding, I know you can still manage that right now." Who? Ah, "2–049" seems to have stopped trying to control me… which makes sense—it doesn't affect the same person continuously; there's always a gap… Klein was startled, but kept his composure on the surface. At that moment, the voice quickly added a few more sentences: "If you can accomplish this, you'll receive an additional compensation. I know you're a 'Seer,' and I know the Church of the Night Goddess doesn't have a subsequent Sequence 8. Our Convent can offer you one." "Hmm, frankly, I used to be a 'Seer' myself. Otherwise, I wouldn't have dared return. To prove my sincerity, I'll tell you now—Sequence 8 corresponding to a 'Seer' is actually a 'Clown.'" "A 'Clown'?" The Convent… Klein nearly lost his 'puppet-like' composure. He had never imagined a 'Seer' would be linked to a 'Clown' at all. Could he possibly be aiming to form a circus duo? "Alright, make your decision. Believe me—you don’t have much time left to waste." That voice came again, drifting with the wind. D’Enn and Loretta remained unconscious in the distance, Borghia appeared severely injured, groaning without moving, while El Hassen and Leonard Mitchell were in better condition, attempting to sit up. Why me? The Convent... that little clown in the tails? He fled, then returned quietly, hoping to reap the benefits—yet why seek my help? He could easily handle all of them here now. As he heard the other’s words, a series of questions flashed through Caine’s mind. Since the other had identified himself as a "Seer," Caine began analyzing the situation through the lens of a Seer’s perspective: "He returned with hope—perhaps he foresaw that the monsters would be defeated, and that we would suffer a major blow." "He doesn't go himself to fetch that notebook, doesn't confront us directly—rather, he must have divined that this situation carries immense risk, thus suspecting that both the captain and Lady Lorkata are feigning unconsciousness, and that this is a trap deliberately set for him." "He doesn't perform further divinations to verify my current condition. Perhaps it's simply because time is running out—should he wait any longer, Mr. El-Hassen and his team would recover enough strength to mount a real defense. Alternatively, it may simply reflect his underestimation of me, believing it unnecessary." "He deeply understands the role of the Seer, and thus undoubtedly believes I cannot escape the puppet-like control—he's treating me as a sacrificial pawn in his testing of the trap." "This also underscores that the outward manifestations of the 'Divination Rite' have remained remarkably unremarkable." Klein's mind, operating with seamless fluidity, now grasped the essence of the suit-wearing clown's thoughts and intentions with clear coherence. As for the promises made by the other, however, he didn't believe a single one—there was no dignity, no rights for the 'sacrificial pawns'! The thought flashed swiftly through his mind, and Klein controlled his neck, nodding with difficulty and hesitation. At that moment, he truly confirmed that he had broken free from the influence of the sealant "2–049." As soon as he nodded, a transparent "curtain" rippled from three to four meters to his side, revealing a figure dressed in a tailcoat with a small clown makeup on his face—exactly the member who had previously escaped. At this point, Klein had turned back in his attempt to surge out of the influence range of "2–049," so he was now facing away from the dark iron box and the puppet. The tailcoat clown stood in his side front, both away from the sealant and out of the line of his gun, appearing notably cautious. From his pocket, he drew a long sheet of paper and shook it vigorously, straightening it out so that it stood rigid, like a slender rod. Holding this "rod" at a distance of three or four meters, he aimed it directly at Klein's shoulder, attempting to awaken him. He knows quite a bit about "2–049"—he senses the lingering presence of the Antigonus lineage, where the puppet becomes frenzied and simultaneously controls two people. He also realizes that hitting it with stones seems ineffective—at least, I haven't seen the captain or his team make such attempts before. Although Kline doesn't fully understand why "2–049" has stopped trying to assimilate him, he's still cautious not to linger more than five meters away, so he holds his breath and waits for an opportunity. As the paper strip transforms into a stick just reaches his shoulder, Kline's left hand suddenly lifts, grasping the tip of the stick firmly and yanking it backward. The dapper clown is thrown off balance, his body pulled forward, and the distance between him and Kline shortens again, now less than two meters. At the same time, Kline, having already prepared, presses down firmly with his right finger on the trigger of the revolver. Clang! Clang! He fired two shots, but not at the tuxedo clown—instead, he aimed at his back, at the side away from the seal, "2—049." Before the shots even rang out, the tuxedo clown had already shifted from staggering to rolling, instinctively anticipating and avoiding the attack. Cain released his grip on the "note stick" and took several steady steps forward, stepping well beyond the "danger" zone. The tuxedo clown had just completed two rolls and was about to turn and spring outward when his head suddenly buzzed, his thoughts instantly stalling. Unfavorable! He deliberately forced me to move toward... the "Antigonus puppet"! I'm now within five meters... of it... How could he possibly have escaped control by the "Antigonus" puppet...? The tuxedo clown's rolling motion halted. His joints stiffened as if rusted, and he began to crawl toward the outside. At that moment, Cain had turned fully around, both hands gripping the revolver, now aiming precisely at the slow-moving target. In his eyes, this was equivalent to shooting at a stationary target. ——Having witnessed the interaction between the tuxedo clown and Dunn, El, and Loretta, Caine knew the opponent was agile and skilled at rolling, so even at a distance of just a few meters, he carefully opted against direct shooting, instead pressing the clown to retreat toward his anticipated "home base," near the sealing object "2—049." Should the puppet fail to take effect, the tuxedo clown would recognize himself as having fallen into a trap, and his counterattack—intended merely for escape—would lack genuine threat. Clack! With a calm precision, the man in black formal attire pressed the trigger, his expression unreadable to the tuxedo clown.