Calmed his心情, Caine stepped into the underground and arrived at the outer door of Charnes, knocking on the open gate of the guard room. Lo Yao. Leiting, who had already packed her personal belongings, immediately combed her hair and rose to prepare for departure upon seeing the shift change arrive. After a simple nod of greeting, Caine suddenly spoke: "I'm well-informed about the progress of the potions, and I've just shared my insights with the Frey team—feel free to connect with them." Lo Yao, expression neutral, glanced at him with slight surprise, her lips moving slightly before she replied, "Very well." Lady, I hope you can maintain this composed demeanor when you meet the others... the entertainment room now seems to be filled with a crowd of statues. Caine smiled and moved to the table, smoothly taking up the silver-lined tin pot that had been used by Dunning Smith to serve Felmor's coffee. After sipping a rich, aromatic cup of coffee, Kline settled comfortably, gazing out at the quiet, empty corridor beyond the door, allowing his thoughts to drift freely: "Hope Mr. Azk's actions proceed smoothly, without leaving any traces... No, even if there are traces, I'll simply pretend not to notice." "I still don't know where the 'mutated Solar Emblem' is sealed behind the Charnis Gate... Ah, it doesn't possess living qualities—just ensure it has ample space." "Speaking of that, I've never actually entered the Charnis Gate myself, so I'm uncertain about its internal condition. To keep all those various, oddly shaped and sized sealings intact and under proper supervision, there must be something extraordinary—perhaps even the ashes of Saint Serenela?" ...As a cascade of thoughts flowed through him, Kline suddenly heard a hurried footstep, quickly refocusing his attention and turning toward the door. He saw Old Neil, dressed in a black classical robe and holding a matching wool hat, appear at the corridor's entrance, stride briskly into the guard room, and stand directly opposite, silently gazing up and down at himself with unbroken attention. "…Mr. Neil, what's happened?" Caine chuckled dryly, lifting his rich coffee to his lips. Neil studied him again, then sighed, "You've actually drawn inspiration from the maxim of the 'Seer' and from Dail's case..." "This must be a tribute to the goddess, and also a heartfelt thanks to your guidance," Caine replied seriously. Neil creaked his chair into place, sat down abruptly, and spoke with a slightly weary tone, "If only it had been twenty years earlier... if only it had been twenty years earlier..." Knowing that Neil's age and physical condition no longer allowed him to take the magic potion—no matter how thoroughly he had absorbed the previous dose—Caine remained silent, saying nothing. He felt that no matter what he said, it only served to provoke the other. "At first, I tried to extract a clear strategy for mastering potions from the aphorisms of the spies, but I kept stumbling and never found the right path. Even after Daili's success inspired me, I had already passed my fifties and, by then, I had given up—subconsciously believing it was a matter of genius, something ordinary people couldn't replicate." Neil rubbed his temple, delivering his sense of loss in a low, steady tone. He paused for a few minutes, then lifted his head to look at Caine. "It's truly disappointing that only now, at my age, I finally realize what I've missed." Neil had a somewhat vague understanding of the 'role-playing' method, which became clear the moment I shared my experience—immediately grasping several key insights. Caine reassured him: "Actually, the difference won't be too great. The Church doesn't have a corresponding Sequence 8 for the Spies." "Perhaps the Sanctum has... no, if they had it, they'd at least inform the branches... the underground market trade is also possible..." Neil murmured, propping himself up with his hands, shaking his head and rising with a smile, "At least I haven't lost control—I've lived a sound, steady life for several decades. A worthy goddess." He drew a crimson moon on his chest, his expression solemn, and departed from the guard room, no longer displaying his usual cunning. Klein watched his silhouette fade from view and suddenly sighed deeply. He found himself increasingly puzzled as to why the church's upper echelons had sealed off the "Method of Performance." After a while, Klein regained his composure and turned his attention to the internal records of the night watch. Since bringing in the young man from the City of Silver and learning that there, many things still retained their ancient names, he had consciously deepened his studies in this area, striving to master the correspondence between ancient and modern terms. After an indeterminate length of time, he heard a steady, measured footfall again. Almost simultaneously, a clear image of Denne Smith in a black, floor-length coat flashed into his mind. Having fully absorbed the "Seer's" potion, my inspiration had sharpened... Klein nodded thoughtfully, and a few seconds later, spotted the captain. "Your letter," Denne lifted his right hand, his wrist trembling slightly as he gently set the letter toward Klein. Klein gracefully extended his hand to catch it, but both his judgment and reaction fell just short. *Plip!* The letter landed on the ground, Klein's right hand awkwardly standing out in the air. In the sudden stillness, his hand first stiffened, then continued rising, as he smoothed his hair. "The gaslight still isn't bright enough," Klein casually remarked, bending down to pick up the letter and glancing at the envelope. Mr. Horne... Dast Goodriean's letter... he nodded with sudden clarity, opened the drawer, and took out a letter cutter. ——According to the night watch team's protocol, if the recipient is clearly identified and correct, Rosan and the other clerical staff would deliver the letter directly to that person; in cases of anonymous correspondence or when the recipient could not be found, the letter would be sent to Dunn, who would then inquire or make the decision. With careful precision, he cut open the envelope, extracted the papers, and quickly unfolded them, scanning them thoroughly. He found that Dr. of the Asylum, Dast, was requesting a meeting as soon as possible, specifically at two o'clock this afternoon. Had he received the "Mind-Reader" formula? Or was there something else? Holding the letter slightly above his desk, Klein looked up at Dunn and said: "Captain, my contact—namely, the one from the Psychological Alchemy Guild—would like to meet at two o'clock this afternoon." "Has anything specific been mentioned about the matter?" Dunn asked, as if expecting this. "Not yet," Klein shook his head. Dunne thought for a moment, his rich voice saying, "For now, have Leonard take charge of watching the Charnes Gate. I'll follow you there. This urgent meeting request is likely a trap—there have been so many similar incidents I've witnessed. And if there truly is something important, this way we can act swiftly." ...Captain, you truly are experienced!...Well, whenever things get serious, you're the dependable, trustworthy, and never-forgotten kind of captain...Cline nodded immediately: "Got it!" ...At 2:00 p.m., the Shooting Club on Zothlan Street, Small Range No. 9. Cline glanced at the target covered in bullet holes, then looked at the slightly uneasy psychiatrist from the asylum, Dastur Goodrainer, and asked, "What's happened? How did you end up rushing over to the Hound's Tavern to find the mercenary squad?" Only then would Wright, the owner of the Hound's Inn, immediately deliver the letter to Blackthorn Security instead of waiting for Caine to go himself. Dastor observed Caine's subtle expressions and body language, and replied in a steady voice: "I feel that Hude Egen has been acting rather unusual lately." Hude Egen was the former patient at the asylum who had developed Dastor into a member of the Psychological Alchemy Circle. "What specific signs of unusual behavior have you noticed?" Caine asked with his usual professional demeanor. Dastor breathed a quiet sigh of relief, as though he had found a reliable anchor, and carefully replied: "He—he seems, well, truly insane now..." "Truly insane?" Caine asked in surprise. Didn't Hude Egen have entered the asylum deliberately, pretending to be ill in order to cultivate his mental faculties and influence the patients from both positive and negative perspectives? Had he actually become ill—truly gone mad? "I think that's right..." Dastert paced back and forth, slightly anxious. "Previously, I could communicate with him normally and receive clear guidance on how to properly use his extraordinary abilities. But lately, his thoughts and overall condition have become quite strange—frequently making communication difficult, just like when I interact with other patients. Now, although this has allowed me to successfully obtain the 'Seer' formula, I'm uncertain whether it's genuine or merely a coincidence. I'm even more afraid of unpredictable changes." No matter what—being a seer, especially one who has access to the mysterious space above the gray mist—truth and falsehood never blur for me... Kline exhaled in relief, then furrowed his brow, asking, "Before this deterioration, did he come into contact with anyone specific?" "Only the patients," Dastert replied, his expression serious. "I can't be certain—I'm not here every single day or every hour. I do have periods of rest." Klein nodded gently, as if it were nothing: "Don't worry—I'll send someone to protect you discreetly. You need to quickly identify all the people Hude Egen had previously interacted with. Also, be careful—he's testing you. By the way, you should inform the other members of the Psychological Alchemy Circle as well and observe their高层's reaction." "Understood," Daster pushed his gold-framed glasses slightly, regained his characteristic composure, and then pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket, handing it to Klein. "This is the recipe for the 'Mind-Reading' potion—I'm not certain if it's accurate." "We'll verify it," Klein smiled, unfolding the paper and glancing at it. "Main ingredients: the complete hypothalamus of an adult seven-colored lizard, and 10 milliliters of spinal fluid from a Farstman rabbit." "Additional ingredients: 5 grams of chestnut spore, 8 grams of dragon's tooth powder, 3 white elf petals, and 100 milliliters of pure water." "Excellent." "Klein offered a compliment, folded the paper neatly, and placed it into the inside pocket of his suit coat. After exchanging a few more words to confirm that Dastre's "auditory hallucinations" had improved, he bid farewell and carefully made his way to the dedicated nighttime officers' range, where Dunn Smith was already waiting. "Captain, my informant has provided me with a recipe for a 'mind-reader,' thanking me for helping him manage the potion's adverse effects. However, he's uncertain about its authenticity." Klein handed the paper to Dunn seriously and formally. "Also, he mentioned one other matter..." While Dunn reviewed the recipe, he listened attentively to Klein's account of Hude Egen's situation. Finally, he nodded. "I'll immediately assign personnel to rotate monitoring the asylum. Since you haven't yet received professional training in this matter, you needn't participate. Return to your post at the Charnes Gate and continue your duties there."