Ping! A silver bullet traveled several meters, piercing the small clown's neck with precision, and in its wake, thick streams of blood gushed out, staining his skin and his bow tie. The small clown could not cry out; his throat emitted a hoarse sound. He tried to raise his hand to move the life-threatening wound, but his shoulder and elbow joints seemed filled with glue, making his movements stiff and slow. Ping! Klein, now in a semi-meditative state, remained unphased by the blood, pressing the trigger once more with calm composure, as if performing a routine exercise. A jagged hole appeared suddenly on the small clown's forehead, gushing out bright red blood, dimming the light in his eyes—more powerful than Klein had anticipated from his left-hand revolver. With his knees bending and arms lowering, the small clown slowly collapsed to the ground, his gaze frozen in bewilderment. His body twitched a few times, then relaxed completely, and remained still. With a single shot, Caine had already turned gracefully, unfolding his revolver to let the empty cartridges fall one by one to the ground. As he walked toward El Hassan, dressed in a black suit with a half-high silk hat, he withdrew the final silver hunter's bullet from his pocket and inserted it into the chamber. He didn't look back at the clown's disheveled state—not out of any desire to, but simply because of the discomfort of having just killed someone. He couldn't afford not to act, as he had no idea what would happen once the man was fully controlled by the puppet. Moreover, he didn't want to risk re-entering the influence of the seal "2–049," since the outcome of this encounter might prove unexpectedly strange, potentially rendering the "transfer ritual's" self-rescue mechanism ineffective. As for the items on the small clown's attire, Caine only cared whether there was the so-called "clown" potion recipe or relevant clues—though this wasn't something that needed immediate attention. It could be handled later, alongside Duns and the others. Once the Watchers' team obtained it, it would effectively be his own. They wouldn't hesitate to keep the Sequence-8 potion recipe; they could simply take more time to accumulate credit. After all, he had only recently become a Prophet, and there was still a long way to go before he could fully absorb and integrate everything. Ael exhaled, murmuring, "That creature is too strong—had it not been for its weak point..." He then pointed to a small blue metallic bottle beside him, chuckling self-consciously. "I'd originally intended to take the potion, but I shook my hand a bit..." The blue metal bottle was roughly the thickness of Caine's thumb, no more than five centimeters tall; its lid, adorned with subtle spiral patterns, had slipped to one side and was completely soaked by the liquid. Caine reached out and picked it up, squinting at it, and sighed, "Mr. Hassen, only a few drops remain on the bottle's walls." "Go to Borgias—on the inside, in the inner pocket." Ael spoke between consecutive breaths. "Understood." Caine stood up, casually asking, "Is this the healing potion?" A mysterious item from the side? "No, it only has a certain therapeutic effect—primarily, mainly, it stimulates our spirit, extracts from our bodies... our potential, enabling us to maintain a good state for a short period of time, to endure until we return, until we are ready to receive treatment." Ael tried to sit up, but failed once again. "Its name is, 'The Goddess's Gaze'... you remember the potion you gave half to Borgia." Klein didn't delay—he turned around and hurried to Borgia, who was groaning in pain, and retrieved the standard sky-blue metal bottle from the half-unconscious night watchman's arms. He opened the cap carefully and gently positioned the bottle's mouth near Borgia's lips. Borgia sensed the movement and strained to open his mouth. The bottle tilted, and the dark red liquid flowed into Borgia's mouth. Estimating the amount, Klein promptly withdrew the bottle and securely resealed the cap. The potion seemed to work wonders. Within seconds after Borghia swallowed it, the brilliance in his eyes refocused, and he spoke in a low, steady voice: "Thank you." Then, he used his hands to push himself up slowly, first attending to his own injuries, before walking toward Loretta and Dunn, who were unconscious, and retrieving the "Gaze of the Goddess" from the inner pocket of Dunn's coat. Watching him push himself up with a swift motion, Caine suddenly paused—his initial irritation fading: Leonard’s condition was lighter than I had expected. He was capable of taking the potion right from the start! That meant he might have witnessed my counterclockwise four-step "transit ritual." Not exactly surprising—my silent recitations were internal, and the ritual showed no outward anomalies, otherwise the tuxedo clown would have been fooled. Still, even though Leonard had already recovered, choosing to remain a spectator, he must have seen quite a few things—such as how I had not been affected by "2–049," and had secretly outmaneuvered the tuxedo clown. As Caine’s eyes slightly narrowed, Leonard, approaching him, stopped beside him, gazing straight ahead with a gentle, low chuckle: "I had intended to save you, but I realized you didn’t need it." "Don't worry—there are so many special people in this world who can accomplish things others simply can't. For instance, you..." "...And, of course, me too." Leonard smiled, brushing past Klein, moving toward the now-waking Dunn and Loretta. Self-absorbed... Klein muttered under his breath, feeling a sense of relief settle in. It seems Leonard Mitchell has quite a few secrets of his own... He joined the main group, observing as Captain Dunn carefully donned her gloves and picked up the Antigonous family notebook, stained with yellow-brown hues and blood. The notebook's cover was entirely crafted from deep black hard paper, exuding an ancient, timeless aura—neither softened nor deteriorated, almost exactly as Klein had seen it in his dreams, to the point where he began to wonder if, upon opening it, he'd find a Fool adorned with a magnificent headdress. But he soon realized he'd overthought it, as Dunn gently flipped through the pages for final confirmation. The words above were somewhat blurry for Kline, but he was certain there was no Fool dressed in elaborate garments or adorned with splendid headdresses. "Ah, no problem," Dune folded his notes neatly and held them firmly, then looked at El and the others. "For the next few days, store this item together with the sealant '2–049' at the Charnis Gate in Tinggen City. Either wait until you recover, or until Becland sends someone else to retrieve it." Hearing this, Kline felt both a bit disappointed and relieved. He longed to go through the Antigonus family's notes once more, to better understand the causes of the original owner's and Welch's and Naya's deaths—but he also sensed an unfortunate presence in this ancient object, one that consistently brought misfortune. So, he hesitated to touch it. Handing it over to the Church headquarters and sealing it tightly was, perhaps, the best course of action. He exhaled quietly to himself. "Understood." Ael Hassen, Borgia, and Loretta each nodded and turned, coming to stand beside the seal, "2–049." They awakened one another, carefully reinserting the automaton—now once again active—into the iron-black box with its crack, and monitored it closely. "Everything is normal," Ael said, his tone now more relaxed. Within the box, which glowed with a faint light, the automaton, wrapped in oil-stained cloth, creaked as it turned over, its painted clown face now facing the light. On this strange face, beneath the pure black, pupilless eyes, two subtle, almost imperceptible dark red fissures appeared. At the same time, Dunn, Leonard, and the courageous Caine searched the body of the tuxedo clown, uncovering a variety of odd items—paper flowers, handkerchiefs, playing cards, and glass fragments. Yet beyond these, the body carried no other valuable items—or anything that could provide meaningful clues. Well, except for that briefcase—worth about eight to nine pounds and a few rupees—Caine sighed quietly. At the mention of money, he immediately lowered his head, scrutinizing himself, his face nearly falling. His well-priced suit, now with five or six spots needing mending from wear and tear, was stained all over with mud and dust. Dunning glanced at him, a subtle upward curve of his lips forming: "All losses incurred during the mission are reimbursable." Reimbursable... Hearing the word—"invented" by Emperor Rossel—Caine felt a sudden lift in his spirits. Ah, yes, with a good cleaning and a few repairs, this suit would still be respectable and wearable. Once the reimbursement came through, he could purchase a new one, creating a rotation! Well, I'm not someone who moves reimbursement funds around for other purposes... Though I'll have to start thinking about battle attire—like the captain's black coat. Even if the fabric isn't quite as premium, it's considerably cheaper than a formal suit. Hmm, Leonard has long been reluctant to wear formal attire—maybe that's exactly the reason. "Let Frey handle the bodies," said Dunn, gently touching the paint on the clown's face with his glove. Then they searched the innermost warehouse and found several clumps of blood-soaked, mashed flesh pressed flat by massive stones, scattered bones, white and stark, lying everywhere. "Rael Biber is likely performing an ancient rite to absorb the power contained within the notes—much like we directly consume higher-tier sequence potions. This process is inherently risky and requires an undisturbed environment, as well as a period of deep sleep. That is probably why he has not left Tingen so far." Dunning reviewed the situation, forming his hypothesis. Upon hearing this description, the dark-haired lady, Lorota, smiled faintly, her face pale. "Unfortunately, he was disturbed and awakened prematurely. The indignation he displayed upon waking remains vivid in memory." "This is a form of loss of control," Dunning said to Caine, half-explaining, half-teaching. "Then why didn't he simply leave Tingen and attempt the absorption elsewhere?" Caine asked, puzzled. "When someone is influenced by ancient or strange forces, they often prove rather ineffective here," smiled El Hassen, pointing to his own head. At that moment, Dunning took a breath, speaking with a hint of pain: "Leonard, you're stable—stay here and keep the ordinary people at a distance. We'll immediately gather the remaining traces of Riel Beiber, bring them along with the sealing materials and the Antigonous family's notes, and return. Then have Frey, Loy, and the police come over."