Glancing at Swain standing before the monster's corpse, and then turning to see the "Enforcer" who had just been holding back the others now helping up their half-unconscious companion, Caine suddenly felt an indescribable sadness. Regardless of whether they were Night Watchers, Enforcers, or members of the Mechanical Heart, almost none of them could ever become heroes, since their efforts would go unnoticed by the public and remain only in various confidential documents—yet the dangers and hardships they endured were profoundly real. Perhaps one day, his opponent would be one of his own teammates… Caine sighed silently, feeling the heavy weight carried by the terms "Night Watcher," "Enforcer," and "Mechanical Heart member." At that moment, Old Neil exhaled, saying, "Let's go. Let them be undisturbed." "Agreed," Caine replied, picking up his staff and about to take a step—when suddenly he noticed Old Neil still holding his left hand, and asked with concern, "Are you injured?" "Old Neil gave a sharp call, saying, 'The fragments that were knocked aside grazed me. Back when I was younger, I'd have definitely dodged them. Fortunately, this is just a minor issue.' He slightly loosened his right hand, allowing Caine to see the small wound on the back of his left palm, still oozing blood. After confirming there was nothing serious, Caine remarked as he descended the ladder, 'Mr. Neil, you're more composed than I expected. Even when the creature was less than two meters away, you remained calm and clearly recited the words, invoking the sigils.' Although the penalized one who had lost control and transformed into a monster had charged directly toward Caine, Old Neil had always stayed close to him." Facing praise, Old Neil immediately chuckled and said, "I'm a seasoned night watcher. In all the dangerous situations I've encountered, the one just now even doesn't rank in the top ten. I remember once, while patrolling with Dunn at Raphael's cemetery, some deceased suddenly turned into zombies, leaving the tomb and quietly hiding in the shade of the trees. I passed right by without noticing them, thinking to find a concealed spot—hey, you know what I mean—only to have one leap out from behind and clamp down on my neck." Cain listened with growing awe and asked, "In such a situation, could you remain calm enough to cast a spell, or could a 'Seer' quickly summon a spell?" Old Neil glanced at him and smiled gently, "No, Dunn managed to drag that zombie into a state of deep slumber. That's why I'm telling you—being a night watcher means not only believing in yourself, but also trusting your teammates." “…”, Klein remained silent for a few seconds, speaking half in jest, half sincerely, “Mr. Neil, you have been so wise today.” Old Neil gave a small hop, stepping onto the dock, and replied with a touch of disdain, “That’s because you’ve only ever perceived my most insignificant qualities.” The two walked out of the dock and all the way to the entrance of the Dragon’s Tavern. Klein withdrew his revolver, leaned on his cane, removed his coat, and under the glow of the gas lantern, inspected it for any damage. “Indeed fortunate—only a few splinters, a small patch stained…,” he removed the debris, roughly brushed off the dust, and straightened himself. Old Neil smiled, imitating his tone, and added with calm ease, “Indeed unfortunate—uncoverable for reimbursement.” “…”, Klein momentarily found no words to respond. I am not someone like this! he insisted in his heart. At that moment, the public carriage arrived. Caine produced a silver pocket watch etched with vine patterns, opened it, and glanced at the time. "If there's nothing urgent, I'll have to head home," he said to the old Neil. Old Neil nodded slightly. "Go enjoy your dinner now—don't worry about that 'sleeping spell' I just cast. I'll make good on it with Swain. He's quite wealthy, of course, though not today; I'll take his mood into account." "...Thank you for your generosity..." Caine opened his mouth, but only managed to utter those words. He quickly stepped onto the carriage and made his way back to the street of Narcissus. It was past seven now, and the sky had completely darkened. With the key in hand, he opened the door and saw Melissa removing her hat and hanging it on the coat rack. He smiled and said a trivial remark: "You just got back too?" At that moment, the complex emotions he had been carrying since earlier dissolved, and he felt a sudden lightness and warmth spreading through him. "Today, there's a hands-on class at school," Melissa explained seriously. Cain sniffed, caught the aroma of food, and paused, instinctively asking, "So, who's preparing dinner?" As soon as he spoke, both he and Melissa answered at the same time: "Benson!" Their voices carried a touch of urgency. At that moment, Benson stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. "Don't you have any confidence in my cooking?" he asked. "I remember when Melissa didn't know how to cook—how patiently you'd wait for me to come home, how eagerly you'd watch me prepare meals. Honestly, cooking isn't that difficult. For instance, for a pot roast, you simply start by boiling the beef, then add the potatoes, and finally season it with spices..." Cain and Melissa exchanged a glance and remained silent. With a steady hand on his cane, removed his hat, and then smiled, Cain said, "I think it's time we brought in the housekeeping maid. Always having dinner at irregular times isn't very healthy." "But I don't want strangers sitting beside us while we're talking—it makes me feel uncomfortable." Melissa instinctively came up with another reason to decline. While removing his coat, Crane smiled and began: "Don't worry..." Just then, his expression suddenly froze, and his movements paused—thank goodness, he hadn't accidentally taken off his coat; there was a revolver tucked under his arm. "Cough, cough," he cleared his throat, as if nothing had happened, and said, "Don't worry. After we get home, we can have the housekeeping maid rest in her room. I'm sure no servant would mind resting, yes—definitely need to find a housekeeping maid who's willing to learn how to cook." He didn't want to endure the relentless onslaught of culinary disasters in the future. Benson stood at the kitchen door, nodded in agreement: "When we have time, we can visit the 'Tinggen City Household Servants Association'—they have ample resources and a solid understanding of such matters." "Very well, that's settled!" Caine ignored Melissa's less enthusiastic gaze. ... Beckland, Queens District, the Viscount's residence at Glaynert. Audrey Hall, accompanied by her personal maid Anne, left the ball and ascended to the second floor, entering the bedroom arranged by the Viscount. With Anne's assistance, she slowly removed her elaborate gown and light dance shoes, donning the pre-prepared black cloak with a hood. After fastening the hood, Audrey stood before the full-length mirror, examining herself. She noticed that most of her face was shaded by the hood's shadow, leaving only the graceful curve of her lips clearly visible. The black cloak, her face hidden in shadow—this was the feeling of mystery and depth I've always dreamed of! Audrey thought with delight. To ensure it was just right, she added a soft blue ship-shaped hat inside the hood, with a delicate black herringbone lace trailing down, softening the contours of her features. "Perfect—just like that!" "Audrey slipped her feet into the calf leather boots, turned her head to Anne and said, 'You stay here, and don't open the door no matter who comes.'" Anne looked at the lady with a sigh. "But you must promise this time that your outing won't exceed one hour." "You should believe me—I've kept my word on several previous occasions," Audrey smiled, drawing close to her personal maid, embracing her and giving her a formal kiss on the cheek. Then, with a light, springy stride, she took a few steps back, pulled up her hood, turned, and departed from the bedroom through the hidden door. Descending the corridor, she reached the side entrance of the viscount's house, where she saw a carriage already waiting there. Master Graylin stood in the shade, gazing at Audrey and sincerely praising her: "The way you're dressed—well, quite simply, it's exactly how the great King Roscel is often described: absolutely cool." "Thank you," Audrey said, gracefully lifting her gown and bowing with elegance and pleasure. Together, they boarded the carriage, exited the villa, and arrived at a house just ten minutes' drive away. Outside the house, Audrey spotted the regular apprentice, Folshe Woll, and her friend, the "Arbiter," Hugh Dillchar. Folshe had wavy brown hair and soft, naturally languid blue eyes, and she pointed toward Hugh. "She is an exceptional persuader—she can help you secure what you desire." Hugh was shorter, barely reaching one meter and fifty centimeters, with refined, gentle features, though her eyes and brows seemed still unopened, quite fresh and inexperienced. Though her hair was messy and her shoulder-length golden locks slightly coarse, and though she wore the traditional knight's training attire, she exuded an indescribable dignity and a compelling charm. Audrey had met her several times before, and with a gentle smile, she called out, "Miss Hugh, can I trust you?" "You needn't worry at all," Hugh replied, offering a welcoming gesture. As she stepped forward to join Audrey and Viscount Glayntrit, a sudden "clink" sound rang out. Audrey turned to follow the sound and saw a sharp, triangular spike gleaming with a cold light lying quietly at Hugh Dillchar's feet. "... "Audrey and Hugh exchanged glances, each forgetting to speak. After several seconds, Hugh quickly and gracefully bent down, picked up the spike, and tucked it into his clothing. "We must remain vigilant for unexpected developments—some people lack sufficient composure and are not easily persuaded," Hugh explained seriously. Audrey nodded silently, her voice soft and clear: "I believe you..." "Here's a prop to calm certain individuals and allow them to speak with us," Firth added, turning his face toward the lawn. The four of them said nothing further, and took a few steps forward, tapping the wooden door in a rhythmic pattern of three long and two short taps. With a soft creak, the main door slowly opened, and Audrey, now in the audience, noticed a number of people scattered about, some concealing their appearances with hats and masks, others completely at ease, openly revealing their features. Almost instantly, Audrey noticed a man seated alone on a single armchair. The man wore a cloak and a hood, his face hidden in shadow. He watched the guests silently, giving off a sense of quiet superiority. Confident, yet his gaze was rather unappealing—his eyes kept moving over her, like two smooth, slim tendrils, as if they were trying to peel away her clothes. Audrey, with her sharp senses and keen observation, remained calm and made a clear assessment, though she nearly felt a shiver run down her spine. At that moment, Firth introduced: "That's Mr. A, a powerful extraordinary, the one who convened this secret gathering."