"No one may utter my name without my permission." ... Several minutes after the gathering had ended, as Audrey and Alje returned to their respective bedrooms and the captain's quarters, the words spoken by the Fool seemed to echo still in their minds. In their memories, the enigmatic and powerful Mr. Fool was either relaxed and at ease, or calm and composed, or sometimes difficult to read—rarely did he adopt such a solemn, commanding tone. It was precisely this that made Audrey and Alje feel especially afraid and deeply willing to comply. They were familiar with such expressions, yet they had only been recorded in the *Book of the Night Revelations* and the *Book of the Storm*! ... ... West district of Tingen City, on the street of Narcissus. Caine opened the curtains, allowing golden sunlight to stream into the bedroom. After the departure of Justice and the Hangman, he again examined the "star" that had been sending out requests, but this time, he received no information. According to the boy who speaks the language of the giants, whose prayers have been preserved, the function of nearly offline messaging, Kline believes that during his two most recent visits to the intervals above the gray mist, the boy had not prayed at all. This makes him suspect that the boy's parents may have perished, and thus, he has chosen to give up. Facing away from the sunlight, Kline walked to the bedside and lay down with a soft snap, unwilling to move. He knows he should make use of the time to go to the divination club and continue processing the information, yet he still refuses to stir, simply wanting to lie quietly and enjoy his rare day off. From Tuesday through Friday, his daily schedule is packed—morning with classes and corresponding practical sessions, afternoon with shooting and combat training—leaving him too exhausted to feel energetic even in the evenings. On Saturdays, the morning remains unchanged, but in the afternoon, he begins rotating shifts at the Charnes Gate, spending his meals, rest, and daily routines underground, continuing until early Sunday morning. On Sunday mornings, Klein reserved his nap time; in the afternoons, he would decide whether to head to the Club of Divination based on the situation. On Monday mornings, he had just visited Hoy University, and in the afternoons, he had to convene the members of the Tarot Circle while also preparing to embody the role of a seer. In short, he was constantly busy throughout the week, with hardly any time for rest or relaxation. Thus, at this very moment, Klein simply wanted to slump once, to lounge at home like a dull fish, doing nothing and thinking of nothing, merely staring blankly ahead. "No way—how can the boss of this 'cult' organization be so lethargic? If Miss Justice and Mr. The Hangman found out, their entire worldview would shatter..." Klein buried his face in the blanket, trying to steady himself. "I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's potion—I have the recipe for the Clown's Pulled a bronze coin from his pocket, Caine quickly cast a spell to determine whether today was auspicious for visiting the club, and received a positive response. "Five, four, three, two, one!" After counting down, he forced himself to stand straight and walked toward the coat rack, retrieving his tailcoat and a half-high silk hat. ........... In the meeting room of the卜 Club in the Hollows district. Caine sat in a shaded corner, sipping a Sibber tea and flipping through the "Tinggen Chronicle," with only a few members present—no more than six or seven. As he was amused by a grammatical error in a job advertisement, Gracis entered, wearing single-lens spectacles and carrying a silk hat. Accompanying him was a woman in her thirties, dressed in a blue stand-collar dress. Her eyebrows were gently arched, her eyes large but lacking brightness, and her left hand tightly holding a black velvet Intesis hat, studded with feathers and resembling a helmet. How extravagant! Did she find it uncomfortable to wear on her neck? Klein noticed and glanced over, gently pressing his fingertips against his brow as if easing fatigue. In his spiritual vision, Gracis and the woman with green eyes were in good physical health but emotionally agitated—furious and disoriented. "Good afternoon, Gracis. Indeed, Mr. Larnus is not someone one can trust, is he?" Klein asked, without rising, with a slight smile. Previously, Gracis—only recently recovered from a lung illness—had consulted him about an investment in Larnus Steel, receiving a cautious, neutral recommendation. Yet observing Gracis' hesitation, Klein had sensed that he would likely proceed with the venture, perhaps not risking his entire fortune. Now, seeing the current emotional tone in Gracis' demeanor, he immediately drew the connection and formed his judgment. Gracis was first startled, then broke into a wry smile: "I truly regret not having followed your divinatory advice. Oh, I've said this twice now—this time, I'm certain it won't be a third time." He turned his head to the lady whose eyes now bore a few fine lines, and said, "Madam Christina, observe: we haven't even spoken, yet Mr. Moretti already knows our purpose. He is, in my view, the most extraordinary diviner I've ever encountered—indeed, I would more accurately call him a seer." "Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti. We have come precisely about the matter of Larnuus," the lady named Christina bowed briefly, appearing somewhat flustered and anxious. "Shall we go to the Yellow Crystal Room?" Gracis remained composed, indicating the door of the conference room with his chin. "That is precisely what a seer does," said Crane, rising with a smile. He walked down the corridor and entered the Yellow Crystal Room, which was unoccupied. Gracis locked the wooden door and walked toward her seat, sighing, "Lan'urus has disappeared. He claimed he was going to oversee mineral extraction in the Westvillas County, and left Tinggen without returning. We sent people by steam train to search, only to find that the high-grade iron mine he described existed only on paper. It's a relief that I heeded your divination advice and invested only one-third of the originally planned amount—otherwise, I would have lost both my family and my life." Kline glanced at the two of them with deeper intensity than usual, curiously asking, "Shouldn't you have sent representatives to verify the situation firsthand in the Honaich Mountains of Westvillas County, given the magnitude of this investment?" Christina replied quickly, "Our representatives were confused—by the people temporarily hired by Lan'urus, the place temporarily leased, and the land temporarily enclosed." "Klein didn't ask any further, maintaining the seer's posture and said, 'What would you like to predict?' 'I would like to know whether this situation can still be salvaged,' Christina said, glancing at Gracis. Christina nodded slowly, thinking for a moment. "Mr. Moretti, can you predict where Larnuus has gone?" "No, I'm afraid not. The records he left behind are likely fabricated—his very name might even be false. How can I predict his whereabouts without that? Unless, of course, you can provide me with detailed, authentic information about him, or some personal belongings from him." Klein answered honestly. Christina remained silent for a while, then handed Klein a one-souler bill. "I've heard from Gracis that you are a true seer—one who reveres fate and doesn't seek wealth. This remaining amount shall be your small fee for the club." "Thank you for giving me confidence." She stood up, bowed politely, and left swiftly. "Not seeking wealth… No, I'm quite ordinary! I regret having pretended to be such a mystic earlier." Watching Christina depart, Gracis closed the door and turned back to ask, "Is there truly no way at all?" "That's exactly what I meant," Caine smiled and leaned back. "Hmm," Gracis sighed, "Lan'urus has taken over 10,000 pounds in funds, with more than 100 victims. Fortunately, I've only lost 50 pounds—just my savings, no debts. Miss Christina invested 150 pounds, which is no small amount for her." Caine heard the figure of 10,000 pounds and suddenly felt furious toward the fraud victim. In Beckland, such an amount would make one a wealthy man. Simply seeking a missing person—would the police know to involve night-watchmen, substitute penitents, or the Mechanical Hearts? Caine found himself thinking about it. Gracis nodded seriously: "We've already called the police, and they are taking this very seriously. After discussion, we are willing to set aside a portion of the recovered funds as a reward. Anyone who provides relevant information about Larnuus will receive a £10 reward upon verification. Should the information lead to the precise location of Larnuus and enable the police to arrest him, the reward will be increased to £100!" Ten pounds for clues? A hundred pounds to catch Larnuus? Kline listened with his eyes nearly lighting up, breathing heavily. At this moment, he was worried about the source of his ongoing detective expenses: His additional weekly salary of £3, combined with his savings, would just cover the second payment. However, if the detective Henry could complete two assignments by next week, his extra weekly pay would fall short of the final balance—just a few pence short, assuming no other personal expenses arose during this period. Perhaps he could still obtain Larnus's personal belongings from the police—but if he had truly already left Tingen, then all that would amount to nothing. Cline felt both hopeful and sighing. In the following hour and a half, thanks to Angelica's recommendation, two more people came to consult with him. One was a mother seeking fortune-telling for her one-year-old child; Cline immediately drew the child's natal chart, and the mother left thoroughly convinced and satisfied. The other was someone searching for a lost item; Cline combined tarot reading with dream interpretation to pinpoint the general area where the item was likely to be found—this was quite astonishing, as Cline had never encountered a fortune-teller who provided such precise information before. "Perhaps simply by offering fortune-telling services, I could gather enough to cover the remaining balance," Cline thought, as he received a tip, put on his hat, grasped his cane, and walked toward the club's entrance. At that moment, he noticed the previous lady, Christina, re-entering, now accompanied by a young woman wearing a hat resembling a water lily. Christina saw Kline and immediately approached, lowering her voice to ask, "Mr. Moretti, you previously mentioned that if there were any items related to Lan'urus, one could attempt to divinate his whereabouts?" "That's correct," Kline nodded. Christina took a breath and asked solemnly, "Then would his child count as such an item?" Ah? Kline was momentarily taken aback.