Out of control? Kline's heart tightened, and he nearly asked it back. Though Dunn and old Neil had often emphasized the dangers and likelihood of loss of control in front of him, this was still the first time he'd witnessed something like this—filled with apprehension, confusion, fear, and sadness, a complex mix of emotions. "Out of every event we handle each year, a quarter involves loss of control by extraordinary individuals—and a significant portion of those are our own teammates," Dunn's words flashed through his mind, making his response seem sluggish. It was old Neil, who had experienced so many similar incidents, who immediately asked: "Where is the person who has lost control? What do we need to do?" Klein was momentarily stunned. He had expected Old Neil—this polished, lazy "part-time retiree"—to find excuses to decline Swyn's request, or to demand a substantial fee before even attempting to assist. He hadn't anticipated that Neil would show any hesitation at all, stepping fully into the role without regard for the distinction between the Watchers and the Substitutes. Observing Neil's serious expression, Klein suddenly realized something: regardless of whether they were Watchers, Substitutes, or members of the Mechanical Heart, their shared objective was to prevent extraordinary powers from harming the innocent and to safeguard the peace and stability of Tinggen City. Should an emergency arise, their duty would compel them to act without reservation. At that moment, Swyn responded with remarkable brevity: "Be my support!" He offered no explanation regarding the loss of control or the location of the affected individual, and promptly moved toward the exit. This former "Penalty Captain," though just an elderly man deeply devoted to drinking, had克莱恩 finding himself suddenly unable to keep up—had to jog to stay in pace. He glanced at Neil, now the aging "Seer," who too had begun to run. The three paid no mind to the watchful eyes of the guards along the way—one in an outdated naval officer's uniform, one in a deep classical robe, and one in a knee-length black lightweight coat—dashing out of the billiards room and out of the Dragon's Den. The patrons, sipping their drinks, placing bets, and adding their wagers, instinctively shifted their gaze from the dogs chasing the mice, and glanced at克莱恩 and his companions. "Is that Svend the owner?" "What's making him rush out like this?" "Someone's defaulting on their debts?" "... Among the soft murmurs, some guests redirected their attention back to the enclosure, renewing their cheers and venting the pent-up frustrations of the day, while others remained more alert, subtly uneasy. Trot! Trot! Trot! Kaine and Old Neil followed Swain across the road and into the true dock area. "On that ship," Swain slowed down, pointing to an inland cargo vessel moored nearby, "two representatives of the penalty team are currently negotiating with the unruly one, preventing him from entering the Tassok River. You help me influence and control him—then I'll take care of the rest." Old Neil drew in breath like a windbox, saying, "Yes, but—well, you'll need me for a minute, heave-ho, just one minute to recover." Swain nodded, said no more, and surged ahead, climbing onto the cargo ship to join the fray. Hearing the pounding clashes above, Neil glanced at the slightly nervous Caine, then pulled out a silver tablet the size of an infant's palm from a hidden pouch at his waist and offered it. "The Sleep Charm. The incantation is the word for 'night' in ancient Hermesian. After reciting it, channel your spirit into the charm and hurl it toward your target within three seconds." "Hmm," Caine reached out to take it, feeling deeply touched. The charm was inscribed on both sides with Hermesian incantations, symbolic signs, corresponding numerals, and magical emblems. He didn't need to activate his spiritual sight—he simply relied on his intuition and sensed the subtle, serene, and profound mystical energy within. Neil straightened up, pulled out the identical silver talisman from his inner pocket and held it in his palm. As he walked toward the cargo ship, he tossed in a light remark: "Don't worry, relax, and think of something else—like, this talisman is borrowed from you. If you use it up, remember to make a new one and return it to me. Of course, you can wait until next month, when the material quotas are restored." That... indeed, is the seasoned professionalism of Neil. Klein placed the talisman into his left pocket, reached for the revolver from his armpit holster, and adjusted the trigger position and grip. "I think I'm no longer nervous," he said, holding the gun in one hand and the staff in the other, and together with Neil, they steadily ascended the gangplank to the cargo ship. The cargo ship bore clear signs of its age. Though powered by steam and equipped with an additional chimney, it still retained its masts and sails from earlier days. Its hull was merely clad in metal in some areas, with steel used in parts, while many sections remained wooden. It had a head full of wrinkles, faintly resembling a human, with mucus flowing across its scales, steadily dripping down. Sssss! The dark green mucus gently corroded the deck, leaving clear traces. Thump! The monster, trying to burst through the crack, was hit squarely in the side by Sviyn, sending it staggering two steps back. Thump! Thump! Thump! Sviyn's muscular strength, though impressive, was clearly less than that of the creature. Despite solid blows landing on its body, he couldn't crack the scales, struggling to inflict any real damage—his position looked increasingly precarious, as if about to collapse. Had it not been for his exceptional balance, or for the other Sentinels moving in coordination, firing off shots to hold the monster at bay, Kline doubted the elderly man with blue eyes would survive at all. Thud! Thud! Thud! Sviyn kept retreating and then advancing again and again, like a moth determined to rush into a flame. Yet, Kline sensed that he was gathering strength, waiting for something. Thump! Sven was pushed back several steps, also blocking the view of the other substitute. The monster seized the opportunity and immediately charged toward the rupture. It aimed to escape the cabin and leap into the Tassok River! Gazing at the wrinkled, mucous-covered head, Caine raised his right hand and pulled the trigger. *Plink!* The silver hunter's bullet struck the monster's torso as expected, shattering its scales and embedding itself halfway through. The creature instantly let out a piercing shriek, thrusting its feet powerfully and bursting forth like a gust of wind, rushing toward Caine. Fishy odors surged into his nostrils, and Caine dropped low, rolling sideways. *Clang!* He felt the ship sway, fragments striking his body. At the same time, he heard an elderly, deep voice reciting a spell in ancient Hermes: "Night!" Klein rolled again and again, too preoccupied to pick up his staff, hastily raised his gun and looked up. There, Neil, though only a short distance away from the monster, calmly cast the spell he held. The thin silver sheet was swiftly engulfed by dark red flames, emitting a soft explosion. A deep, serene force radiated out instantly, causing the monster that had nearly shattered the ship's hull to waver and slow its movements. At that moment, Swein burst out from the cabin, closing in on the creature, twisting his torso and swinging his arms with the rhythm of a machine gun, landing several solid punches on the monster's head. Yet he could only create cracks—no fatal damage—though Klein sensed that the blue-eyed elder was gathering his strength to the point of peak intensity. Thud! The monster seemed to recover, counter-throwing a short arm and sweeping Swein back five steps, each step sending cracks spreading across the deck. Seeing the monster about to turn and leap off the cargo ship, Caine quickly pulled out the "Sleeper Sigil" from his pocket with his left hand. Then, he smoothly uttered an ancient Hermes word: "Night!" Suddenly, Caine felt the silver sigil in his palm grow cold, as if snowflakes had accumulated upon it. Without hesitation, he poured his own spiritual energy into the sigil and pulled on his shoulders, swinging his arms and hurling it toward the monster. At that moment, the monster had already leapt into the air. The deep crimson flames instantly illuminated the surrounding darkness, and a soft explosion echoed like a lullaby, rippling out swiftly. Thud! The monster landed straight onto the dock, folding into a tight ball and briefly entering a semi-sleep state. As Caine prepared to move to the ship's side and fire at the monster's head, he suddenly saw Sven rushing out, having lost his naval officer's uniform, and leap off after it. He adjusted his posture midair, his muscles bulging in distinct blocks. Within Kaine's inspiration, something long suppressed erupted—Sviin descended from the sky, crashing into the monster, then straightened up, swinging his arms with powerful force and driving a heavy punch into the creature's head. Crack! The monster's head splintered into four or five pieces, dark red blood and pale brain tissue spilling across the ground, accompanied by a thick, dark green mucus. "Is this one of the 'Furious People's' abilities?" Kaine murmured, standing beside the shattered ship's railing. Old Neil covered his left hand and stepped closer, joining him in gazing downward. At that moment, Sviin stood upright, standing motionless and gazing intently at the lifeless monster beneath him. From somewhere, he produced a flattened metal wine decanter, unlatched the lid, took a few gulps, then tilted the bottle, pouring the remaining strong wine over the creature's body. After all this, Svine seemed suddenly aged, his back and shoulders slightly hunched. Old Niel exhaled, gazing at the scene below, and murmured to Caine: "I've known this unruly Sentinels for decades—twenty-three years with Svine. He's cleared water spirits that killed people upon landing, and captured evil Exceptionals who tried to escape by diving from the Tassok River..." He didn't continue, but Caine could sense the unspoken implication: Such a dedicated guardian, who had fought so many monsters and earned so many victories, had ultimately become one of them. It wasn't an isolated case—it was a fate that many Watchers, Sentinels, and members of the Mechanical Hearts could also face.