"Hasn't a member of the Night Watch been expected to complete a task independently?" Caine paused, "But we don't even have a task once a week, and those tasks aren't always simple." Isn't that meaning I'd have to wait nearly a month or two before officially becoming a Night Watch member—before getting a promotion and a raise? "It should have been this way, but you performed exceptionally well yesterday—skillfully eliminating a非凡者 of at least Sequence 8. I think Fley, Lo Yao, and the others have already recognized your capabilities. Therefore, perhaps Dunning has assigned you only a routine task." Old Neil suddenly remarked, "Double pay! I haven't encountered anything like this in my entire life." Klein chuckled and volunteered to speak about his own Sequence path: "Mr. Neil, do you think the designation of 'Carpenter' as the Sequence 8 counterpart for 'Jester' is accurate?" In fact, reflecting on the confidential documentation, it does seem quite fitting: a 'professional' skilled in technique-based combat. "I can't guarantee it, but I believe this is very likely. First, it aligns well with the documented profile—marked by agility and technique-driven combat. Second, similar cases exist among other Sequence paths. Do you know what the Sequence 8 title is for 'Seer'?" "Old Neil smiled and asked in a cheerful tone. "I'm not sure. The church records don't mention it." Caine nodded calmly. Old Neil chuckled and said, "I know two of the older fellows from the 'Heart of Mechanism' quite well. They've casually mentioned that the sequence-8 magic potion corresponding to the 'Seer' is 'Fighter'—you heard that, didn't you? 'Fighter'? Good heavens, I never liked fighting at all. This completely contradicts the image of a 'Seer'!" "Indeed, that makes sense—the 'Seer' seeks the hidden secrets behind things, and fighting is itself a kind of phenomenon." Caine mused. "Alright, let's not waste any more time. Continue with the mystical studies. You still have many ritual spells to master, and you must truly learn how to craft sigils and amulets." Old Neil poured himself a cup of freshly ground coffee. "Understood." Klein sat down and mentally scheduled his day: study occult subjects in the morning, go through various historical documents, and submit his expense claims; have lunch, then head to the shooting club for practice, followed by a visit to the Deville Library in Jinwutong District to see if he can borrow academic monographs and relevant journals on Hornachis Peak; once that's done, if time permits, he'd make a stop at the divination club, where he'd need to remain fully engaged—no relaxation at all. Once the claims are approved and the funds received, he'd pick up a formal suit on the way home. Hmm, tomorrow morning he'd submit the application materials and attempt to create protective amulets for Melissa and Bensen to ward off misfortunes... A man with a short beard and a thoughtful expression remarked, "Joyce, it's hard to believe you've endured such trials and tribulations. To toast—misfortune is now far behind us, and the sunlight shines upon us, with steam rising above." Joyce and his fiancée, Anna, raised their glasses together, clinked them with their friends, and then drank the last of the champagne. "These days, Anna has been deeply worried. I suspect she's been crying every night. Whenever I invite her for afternoon tea, she's always distracted. Fortunately, you've finally returned—otherwise, I fear she might have passed away from sheer distress." A young woman with brown hair pulled up glanced at Anna and said to Joyce, noting her small and endearing nose. "If Anna were to face something similar, I would react just as dramatically, perhaps even more so." Joyce, with his prominent nose, looked at his fiancée with a gentle expression. Anna wasn't used to showing her emotions in front of others. She glanced toward the other end of the long table and said: "This book is first published①?①???.???, offering you a seamless reading experience with error-free and properly ordered chapters." "Boğda, why have you been looking down all this time? I can clearly sense that you're feeling unwell." The young woman with a delicate nose answered on his behalf: "Boğda has been unwell. His internal medicine doctor informed him that there's a serious issue with his liver. Medications can only alleviate the pain—they cannot cure it. He'll need to undergo surgery." "Lord, when did this happen?" Anna and Joyce asked, both surprised and concerned. Boğda was a young man with short, light hair. His complexion was pale, and the usually bright red hue of his eyes had now dimmed. "It happened last week. Since Joyce hasn't returned yet, I asked Irena and the others not to tell you," Boğda explained, with a wry smile. Joyce asked calmly, "Have you decided on a date for the surgery?" Bogdă's expression changed several times as he replied, "Not yet. As you know, the surgeons are truly butchers—patients are just pieces of meat on the chopping block, cut and slaughtered at their whim! I've read numerous reports where they even use axes to amputate limbs. Good heavens, I'm beginning to doubt I'll make it through surgery alive." "However, if we delay any further, the surgery might not save you at all," added the man with a short beard. At that moment, Anna suddenly interjected, "Bogdă, perhaps you could consider getting a reading from a fortune teller. If the reading is favorable, then proceed with the surgery promptly. But if the reading is less promising, seek other options and follow the fortune teller's guidance. I know a real, magical one—no, more accurately, a true seer. I'm certain he'll be able to help you." "Really?" Bogda asked with evident skepticism, and his other friends shared a similar tone. "Really," Anna nodded without hesitation, "I consulted him for a divination about Joyce's condition, and he told me to go home—my fiancé was waiting for me there. At that time, I was just as doubtful as you all were. But when I arrived home, I truly saw Joyce—he had indeed returned!" "I can vouch for that," Joyce added. He had not mentioned his own visit to request an interpretation of the dream, because the police had informed him that Tris had not yet been apprehended; thus, he had to keep this secret to avoid drawing suspicion or retaliation. "Lord, this is simply unbelievable!" "Is divination truly that remarkable?" "... Amidst a series of exclamations, Bogda paused to reflect and said, 'Perhaps I truly should go consult a fortune teller, Anna. Joyce, could you tell me the name and address of that fortune teller?' Anna sighed with relief, 'You've made a wise choice.' 'The fortune teller is at the Astrology Club on Hauls Street.' 'His name is, Klein Moretti.' ... In the Jinwutong District, at the Deville Library. Using the introduction letter enclosed by his mentor, Klein successfully obtained a library card. As he flipped through the small card in his hands, he asked several librarians, 'Do you have a copy of "Studies on the Ancient Remains of Honechis Peak," published by the Runen Press?' One of the librarians immediately replied, 'Please wait a moment, I'll look it up.' He turned his body to face the individual drawers, opened the one corresponding to the initial "H" of "Hornachis," and then pulled out several cards filled with words according to a certain pattern. After carefully reviewing them, he shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, sir, we don't have this book in our collection." "That's quite a pity," Caine replied, somewhat disappointed. It would seem he'd have to write a letter to the Ruun Publishing House or make a trip back to Hoy University. Meanwhile, he quietly remarked on the world's libraries still relying on ancient methods of management. "You need a computer, but unfortunately, I can't make it to the car," he self-consciously added, then asked, "Do you have any journals such as 'New Archaeology' or 'Review of Archaeology'?" "Yes, we do," the attendant confidently replied, "a gentleman returned them just recently." He then retrieved the relevant cards again and indicated to Caine the exact location of the shelves. Klein arrived there, scanned through the issues, and pulled out a few volumes mentioned by his mentor. Then, he casually settled into a seat by the window, flipping through the materials under the bright afternoon sunlight, immersed in the quiet library. "...Ancient ruins are not only found at the summit of the Honaquis Mountains, but also widely distributed across the forests, valleys, and gentle slopes surrounding the main peak..." "...These ruins are composed of towering domes and massive stone pillars, which can be vividly described as magnificent..." "...What remains puzzling is how the indigenous people extracted and polished these stones?" First, let us assume that they are extracting the materials on-site, without needing to transport them uphill... "...There's a curious pattern: the more closely one approaches the summit, the more magnificent the ruins become. Yet surprisingly, there are no ruins at the very summit. According to our hypothesis, there should have been a palace—something unlike any human structure—dedicated to worship... A palace unlike any human building... a temple for worship... Could that be the one I saw in my dream? As Clary's thoughts raced, he suddenly heard several footsteps drawing nearer. He looked up and saw a familiar face—the one often appearing in newspapers. A square face, thick eyebrows, a strong nose, short dark gold hair, blue eyes, and tightly pressed lips—all characteristic of Sir Deville, a prominent figure from Tinggen City, a philanthropist, entrepreneur, and the founder of this library. Standing beside Sir Deville was the middle-aged butler Clary had previously encountered. Klein stood at a distance of ten or so meters, watching them pass by, and with a curious lift of his right hand, gently tapped his brow twice.