Hauls Street, the Club of Divination. Crane adjusted the half-high silk hat on his head and walked step by step down the stairs toward the main door. No longer dressed in his usual formal attire, he now wore a white shirt with a light waistcoat, and a knee-length black lightweight overcoat, giving him a more vigorous and decisive air. This practical outfit, costing him only one pound—encompassing the hand-sewn small pockets inside for added utility—was remarkably economical compared to his tailcoat, so much so that it seemed to make one weep. He ran his fingers over the revolver in his armpit sleeve and the small metal bottles in the inner pockets, then produced the portrait and entered the Club of Divination. As expected, he found the attractive lady responsible for reception, Angela. "Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti. I thought you would be coming a few days from now," Angela paused momentarily, then brightened with a radiant smile. Caine removed his hat and sighed, saying, "Good afternoon, Miss Angela. I had a dream this morning, in which I saw Mr. Haynes Van Caster arguing with someone. As a seer, one cannot overlook any dream—this might very well be a divine revelation." Fascinated by the mystical tone, Angela nodded thoughtfully and asked curiously, "What did you dream about?" "I dreamed that Haynes Van Caster was in an argument with this person." Caine passed over the folded sheet of paper. While Angela bent to unfold the portrait, Caine pressed his fingers gently against his brow, observing the emotional tone radiating from her. "This person..." Angela gazed at the portrait as though it were a photograph, lost in thought. To Caine, her emotional field displayed a "blue of contemplation"—a perfectly normal response. "This person..." Angelaika murmured again, slowly lifting her head, "I've seen him before." Klein perked up immediately and asked, "When?" "I can't recall the exact date, but it must have been about a month ago. I remember clearly when I saw him escort Mr. VanSant to the door, speaking softly to him. It was his thick, messy eyebrows and Mr. VanSant's rare smile that made such a strong impression on me." Angelaika recalled and described as she went on, "Yes, he has gray-blue eyes. His hair is typical for a man of his age—most of it has gone." "Have you seen him again since then, or have you seen him before that?" Klein asked gently. Agatha shook her head: "No, definitely not. In fact, I don't even know his name. Honestly, if it weren't for you, I'd have doubted that the person who brought out this portrait was a detective investigating Vincent's death. Oh, whatever insights you've gained—I wouldn't find it at all surprising. You are truly a seer." At that moment, he felt as if a nearsighted person had put on glasses with the perfect prescription. This… my "seer" potion is showing clear signs of digestion? Kline stood there, momentarily unable to believe it. "I didn't expect a seer of your caliber to still harbor such deep reverence for fate—truly admirable," Angela said sincerely. She had seen too many people, only recently learning a few seerly techniques, declare themselves capable of uncovering truths and altering destinies at the club. Kline shifted his gaze, chuckling softly: "The more I know, the more I realize my own smallness." As he spoke, he assessed his current state and past experiences, gaining a clear grasp of the essence of the "role-playing" method: to perform actions that match the name of the potion, to perceive the hidden patterns, and to hold oneself strictly to these principles. Only then could he align his body, mind, and spirit, drawing closer to the residual spirit within the potion and gradually digesting it. Others' recognition of my identity as a seer is merely superficial. What truly lightens my sense of spiritual presence is the reinforcement these affirmations provide for certain practices I already embody—practices that collectively form the "Seer's Code" capable of being absorbed by the potion. To help others interpret signs, guide them toward positive outcomes, yet remain ever mindful of the mystery of fate—never growing arrogant, never overconfident, never blindly trusting my own interpretations—is the pattern I've distilled so far. This, too, is the essence of my current performance. If it continues to prove effective, within six months—perhaps three months, or even just two weeks—I will fully absorb the potion. "...The signs I just witnessed were quite clear, which is precisely why the enigmatic Mr. Charatou claimed that when a potion is fully digested, the extraordinary individual can clearly perceive it—without needing instruction, simply being what they are, and not being what they are not. Just now, although my clairvoyance has improved slightly, I am certain this is merely a milestone in the digestion process, not its conclusion." Thinking this, Caine couldn't help but express his gratitude once again toward the tailor-dressed clown who had taught him through his very life! Without him, he might have still needed several months at the Divination Club, going through one case after another—good or bad—before finally formulating his own 'Rules of the Diviner' and beginning a rigorous performance. "Mr. Moretti, at times, I even feel you are a philosopher," said Angela. "In my circle, 'philosopher' is a word used to insult someone," Caine's spirits lifted. After speaking, he bowed, adjusted his hat, and departed. Although Angela didn't know the name or identity of the man depicted in the portrait, Caine wasn't at all discouraged—this discovery was more than sufficient to move forward with his next steps. His description was flawless—should邓恩 Smith now take the portrait to the fortune-telling club, he'd receive confirmation from Angela directly. Dennis shifted his gaze from the portrait, smiled gently: "Well, then, that funding hasn't been wasted." ...Captain, you're not supposed to have a poor memory, are you? How come you remember the funding now, at this very moment?... Kline maintained a steady smile, saying nothing. "Did you draw this?" Dennis asked casually. "Yes, I created it using ritual magic," Kline replied with absolute truth. Of course, telling the truth is different from telling every single truth. Dennis nodded lightly. "I'll have Neil prepare several copies. I'll then have Coen Li and Luo Yao investigate, and request police assistance. If this lead proves valuable, you'll have earned your reward." "May the goddess watch over us," Kline said, tapping his chest four times with a notably reverent demeanor. To him, it would be sufficient if Dunne and his team could uncover the name and identity of the gentleman in the portrait—he could then perform divination to trace his fate above the gray mist! ………… After leaving Black Thorns Security, on his day off, Caine did not immediately head home but took a public carriage to the dock district, arriving at the entrance of "The Dragon's Den" tavern. He had considered this carefully: although the "seer" lacked direct combat capabilities and had no swift spells to deploy, battle came in many forms, not all of which were sudden encounters. With adequate preparation time, the "seer" could still employ ritual magic to confront enemies—just as he had done during the mirror seer incident at Serenella's home. This meant that the "seer" should ideally carry herbs, essential oils, and small candles at all times, so that when needed, materials were readily available and he wouldn't have to wait to die, since not everyone, like Serenella, had a well-stocked collection of mystical items conveniently placed at home. As for the ones he successfully applied for, Klein had used them so frequently that he had nearly exhausted them—all that remained were tucked into the small pockets on the inside of his clothes. He felt the stack of bills in his pocket, pushed open the heavy door of "The Dragon's Pub," and stepped inside. It was mid-afternoon, and the number of customers was modest—no dog-chasing-mouse contests, no boxing matches—making the atmosphere quite quiet and uneventful. Klein glanced at the two tables where guests were drinking and playing cards, intending to head toward the pool room that led down to the underground marketplace. At that moment, he noticed an elderly man with a broad frame, wearing a worn naval officer's coat, stepping out. "Are you the friend that Old Neil brought last time?" the older man with tousled brown hair, a strong scent of wine about him, and blue eyes, studied Klein with a warm smile. Klein had a vague sense of who this man was and bowed slightly, saying, "Yes, I'm not sure how to address you." "Old Neil should have mentioned me to you—I'm Svaine, the owner here." The man with blue eyes was broad-shouldered and muscular, with a strong officer's bearing. Captain of the "Substitute Enforcers" team in Frontenac City—supposedly, he'd even served in the Royal Navy—Caine responded politely, "Yes." "Svaine smiled and added, 'If you ever find yourself short on funds, just come find me.' Then he turned to head toward the bar counter. At that moment, however, Caine felt a sudden thought flash through him and quickly called out, "Wait a moment, Mr. Svaine—I have a question I'd like to ask you." Svaine paused, half-turned, and smiled warmly, "You and your team—well, you and your leader—really do resemble each other." No, I'm not having memory issues... Caine's lips moved slightly, and he simply reached into his coat and produced the portrait. "Have you ever seen this man?" He suddenly recalled that Selena must have been brought into this underground marketplace by Hynas Vents, and thus Elizabeth had also learned about the Dragon's Pub. So, might the gentleman on the portrait—someone with a connection to Hynas Vents—have visited here as well? Svaine looked at him carefully and confirmed: "I remember him. He came to me and asked whether there were any documents or items related to the Hornachis Peak."