In the private detective's office. "Mr. Your commission is complete," said the smooth-voiced private detective Henry, looking at the gentleman dressed in a black tailcoat, wearing a half-high silk hat and a dark face mask, and exhaling a sense of relief. "This has been no easy task—it wasn't particularly difficult, but it consumed a great deal of our energy. To be honest, I'm deeply regretting the fact that I initially set my fee too low." No matter what you say, I won't pay an extra penny! thought Crane, pointing to the thick stack of documents on the tea table. "Is this the investigation report?" "Yes," Henry said, holding the report which had at least sixty pages, and sighed. "This has been the most demanding one I've ever handled..." Before he could finish speaking, Crane handed him four one-pound notes, and Henry's attention shifted entirely to verifying their authenticity. "This is the final payment," Crane said, grasping the substantial investigation report in his hands. Henry cleared his throat. "You are truly a gentleman of integrity. Honestly, I never expected the investigation report to take up so many sheets of paper—it's completely outside my budget." At that moment, Crane picked up the thick report and stood up briskly. He bowed slightly and immediately took his cane toward the door. Henry's subsequent remarks were thus trapped in his throat. Hey, how could I possibly pay for the paper used in the report? That's included in the overall retainer fee! Crane touched his remaining five pounds eight shillings of private savings, murmured to himself, and hurried down to Bessie Street. He first surveyed the surroundings, making sure no one was paying attention, then deftly departed, finding an opportunity to remove his mask. Klein had no intention of going home now; instead, he planned to find a café nearby, quickly organize his investigation report, and identify the houses where tenants had changed since he had divined the "red chimney." Then, he would go through a few of them before dinner. There were many cafés in the neighborhood, but hardly any met Klein's standards—since steam and machinery had become symbols of the age, an increasing number of cafés had lowered their standards, transforming into establishments resembling budget restaurants, offering tea, coffee, bread, toast, and dishes like young peas with lamb stew for busy workers. As a result, well-dressed gentlemen and ladies no longer gathered at cafés to discuss matters, no longer viewing such gatherings as a mark of their status; instead, various clubs had emerged, taking over the social functions once fulfilled by cafés. After walking for a while, Klein finally found a café that still offered a decent atmosphere. After settling into a secluded corner booth, he sipped a South Wiltshire coffee that cost three and two-fifths pence, and carefully opened the investigation report. “…In the northern, eastern, western, southern, golden willow, dock, and university districts of Tinggen City, there are 1,179 houses with dark red chimneys. Out of these, 546 houses have chimneys described by the employer—those of the specific red hue. This does not include the smaller towns and rural areas outside the city proper, though still within the broader region.” “Below are the addresses of each house, along with the corresponding landlord and tenant information, further detailed according to the employer’s request, specifically for the past three months.” … Klein turned page after page, continuously taking notes with his pen on the paper he carried. In the end, he discovered that among the twenty-five properties where tenants had changed since his initial prediction of the 'red chimney,' a total of twenty-five instances of tenant turnover had occurred. "Not very many, but I'll manage to investigate them all within two days. In my dream divinations, I've seen that red chimney, and I've glimpsed parts of the house. As soon as I encounter it in reality, a spiritual familiarity will arise—confirming it as the target. In short, I'm essentially a human investigator on the move. Without speaking, I nodded and plotted out the fifteen locations I'd visit today, based on their respective addresses. As for whether this course of action is risky—I don't even need to consult my divinations to know the answer. Since the tenant turnover has occurred, it means the unseen force behind all the coincidences, the one disrupting my life's harmony, has already departed!" I hope to learn something about the previous tenant from the landlord... Yet, since that person hidden behind the scenes can so effortlessly influence my fate and make coincidences seem natural, they must also have the means to erase their own traces... Ah well, I'll just pray to the goddess that they make a slight oversight. Klein exhaled, steadied himself mentally, donned his silk hat, took his cane and report, and stepped out of the café. Next, he paid two soules to hire a two-wheeled rental carriage and managed to visit all fifteen houses with red chimneys before dinner, only to find that none of them matched the one he had seen in his dream. "If the investigation tomorrow still yields the same result, things will be problematic—he's still living in the red chimney house I previously divined. Either that means he possesses sufficient confidence, unafraid of my pursuit, or even of the night watch team's capture from Tinggen City, or else it indicates he remains unaware of his exposure, and the force countering my divination is not entirely his own. Klein stood at the entrance of No. 2 Waterlily Street, analyzing one possibility after another. After a few minutes, he brushed off a few dust particles from his black tailcoat, adjusted his half-high silk hat atop his head, produced a copper key, and smiled warmly as he opened the door to go home. Tonight, he intended to prepare slow-cooked lamb and honey-glazed meat for Bensen and Melissa. ........ At eleven o'clock at night, the three siblings, having exchanged goodnight wishes, each entered their respective bedrooms. Caine closed the door and stood before the desk, gazing out the bulging window through the glow of the gas lamp. The neighborhood was dark, with only a few streetlamps guiding the way; the stars in the sky were embedded like jewels upon a black canvas, faint and not clearly defined. "I wonder what Beckland—called the 'Land of Hope,' the 'Capital of the Thousand Cities'—really looks like..." he murmured silently, reaching out to grasp the curtain, preparing to pull it. Whooosh! Suddenly, a cold wind blew without warning, and the gas lamp's light turned a shade of pale green. Caine instinctively stepped back a few paces, drawing on his professional reflex—lightly tapping his left teeth together—and at the same time, he leaned sharply toward the head of the bed, reaching for the pistol tucked beneath the pillow. In his line of sight, a translucent face suddenly emerged on the wall beneath the gas lamp and above the desk—half-transparent, with no eyes, no nose, only a mouth. "Do not fire." "The face opened and closed its mouth. "Can we communicate?" Klein had already drawn his gun and aimed it at the target. "What do you want?" he asked in a steady tone. The face emitted a soft laugh. "I'm Daili." Daili? "The Seer" Daili? The "Seer" Daili transferred to the Beckland parish? Klein frowned, puzzled. "Ms. Daili?" "I know my visit has been rather abrupt—having failed to notify you in advance so that you could prepare adequately. However, at this moment, I'm unable to meet you directly, and can only communicate through this little one." The semi-transparent face, devoid of eyes and nose, smiled. Though the voice was slightly off, ethereal and piercing, it truly matched Ms. Daili's speaking style. "The Seer's abilities are truly impressive," Klein mused silently, without lowering his gun. "Ms. Daili, what would you like to share with me?" “If I were you, I’d first spiritually seal the bedroom—otherwise, your family would think you’re mentally unwell.” The translucent, eerie face chuckled. “Haha, you don’t need to be so on guard. I’ve returned secretly to Tingen only because of a letter from Dunning. You know, nightwatchers can’t leave their districts at will.” “Dunning’s letter?” Caine didn’t move toward the desk; instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his black overcoat on the coat rack and pulled out “Saint Night Powder.” “Dunning and I both grew up in the Tingen nightwatcher team—we’ve always maintained a strong relationship. Last Thursday, yes, Thursday, he sent me a letter mentioning your case. He said you’ve adopted the seer’s motto, distilled your own ‘seer’s principles’ from your divination practices, and that this has effectively helped you master the elixirs, so you no longer hear voices or see visions that shouldn’t be there. He said it’s very much like me.” "Hah, you really didn't seal the room? Personally, I'm not介意 being misunderstood by your brother and sister." The semi-transparent face explained calmly. So that's why... indeed, Miss Daili... Klein exhaled in relief, pushed the "Saint's Night Powder" back into his inner pocket, and then hurried to the desk, retrieving the ritual silver knife from the drawer. Quickly constructing the spiritual wall, he turned to face the strange figure emerging on the wall and asked: "Miss Daili, what else did the captain say in his letter?" "He simply expressed his own doubts—he felt he had grasped something, yet couldn't clearly define it, and hoped to receive your opinion," Daili said, using the face devoid of eyes and nose. "And as soon as I read the letter this morning, I knew you weren't as bewildered as you described. Hah, Mr. Moretti—I believe you've already figured out the performance!" “That’s why you came to see me?” asked Kline neither affirming nor denying. Daili had clearly grasped the concept of “the Method of Performance” in his mind—he silently assessed it. Daili allowed the translucent face to soften into a gentle smile and said, “Yes.” “I think we should be open and honest with each other. I know you’ve distilled the Method of Performance; I’m certain you’re aware that I’ve mastered it as well. It’s rather disappointing, though, that it took me nearly two years to fully recognize it—while you’ve only been a非凡者 for just under a month.” Upon hearing Daili’s words, Kline paused thoughtfully before smiling openly. “That’s because you’ve been my example.” He had originally intended to say, “I’ve simply stood on the shoulders of giants,” but ultimately decided not to give Emperor Roscel again a chance to enter his ears. P.S.: I've already been informed about the event by Yuedan, but I'll proceed at my own pace. Recently, my elderly parents have celebrated a major milestone at home, and I've been traveling back and forth to attend the celebrations. Also, there have been several intense bursts of activity in the past few days, so I need to adjust accordingly. I'll aim to make another update before the event concludes. Overall, this is the month when the new book is launching, so I'll definitely keep the update frequency consistent. As for the tasks—I've already completed two. Regarding the donations, everyone has already generously supported on the first day of launch, so there's no need to push for more at this point.