Duke Zingl's manor, ballroom. Disguised as Baron Gramil, Zingl held a glass of deep crimson Ormil wine, standing leisurely behind the balustrade on the second-floor gallery, observing the couples dancing in the ballroom, the elegant ladies and gentlemen in their sumptuous attire. Yet his gaze carried not a single spark of desire—calm as a frozen lake—except for occasional glances at the grand crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and at the Duke himself, a few steps away, whose eyes were following the graceful movements of one beautiful figure after another. The Duke wore a well-tailored deep blue admiral's uniform, with red sashes connecting his numerous honors and medals, a style he favored at all formal events, a tribute to his decades of distinguished military service. Yet his waist was already stout, his body thick with flesh, and the sharp, keen gray-blue eyes now only held haze and desire. Thanks to excellent care, however, the wrinkles around his eyes, mouth, and forehead were shallow, and his black hair remained thick and abundant. This was Palas Nigan, the current Duke of Nigan, a leading supporter of the Conservative Party, the brother of Prime Minister Agushid, and one of the most affluent and powerful figures among the elite of the Kingdom of Roon. At the same time, he was the secret target of Zilinger's covert infiltration into Beckett! To assassinate such a prominent figure—what a thrilling, electrifying experience! Zilinger drew back his gaze and closed his eyes. He accepted the commission not only because the fee was compelling, but also because he himself cherished adventure and thrived on challenging complex, high-stakes endeavors. If the assassination is successful, my reputation will spread across the northern and southern continents, surpassing the "Four Kings," and I shall also obtain one of the cards crafted by Emperor Roscel—those divine cards that hold the secrets of the gods! Qilin-gus suppressed his excitement and quietly examined his left hand. The "Thirsty Hunger" had now become transparent, so that even by sight or touch, outsiders would be completely unaware that Baron Glarmir was still wearing gloves. "What a marvelous item this truly is... Without it, I, merely a Sequence 6, could never have become one of the pirate admirals!" Thoughts flowed through his mind, and suddenly, a sense of regret stirred within him. Over the years of his pirate career, he had encountered and interacted with many extraordinary individuals, including the members of the "Aurora Society" who frequently ventured to the far reaches of the Sunia Sea. Thus, he knew that the "Thirsty Hunger" still fell short when compared to the true "Shepherd." First, the transition between states is too slow—requiring at least one full second, whereas a true shepherd can shift instantly. Second, the souls being guided can only utilize one to three abilities from their lifetimes, and which specific abilities they possess depend entirely on luck, becoming fixed after their first "pastoral" experience, while a true shepherd can deliberately select among three, without having to rely on dice rolls like in a game. Third, the "creeping hunger" can simultaneously shepherd only five souls, whereas a true shepherd can manage up to seven. Of course, both share the same limitation: at any given time, only one soul can be summoned, and only the extraordinary abilities corresponding to that soul—along with the shepherd’s own extraordinary abilities—can be employed. If a new soul is to replace an existing one, the process becomes irreversible, with no opportunity for reversal. After several years of adjustment, Zhengrings finally stabilized five souls, whose abilities complement each other, making the master appear remarkably formidable. And precisely because of the constant adjustments and experiments over those years, a story had grown among the pirates of the "Admiral of the Hurricane"—a figure said to be capable of anything, able to do everything. Amid the vibrant dance music, Zilinger reviewed in his mind the next steps of the operation, then, with a slight sense of regret, murmured internally, "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find that 'traveler' these past few days; otherwise, I wouldn't have any concerns tonight." If he could capture that woman suspected to be the 'traveler,' Zilinger would have no hesitation in feeding one of the five souls originally designated for pastoral care directly into the "creeping hunger." To him, each of these sequence-path abilities was immensely valuable. He glanced at the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the roof and decided it was time to act without further delay. The soul he currently commands possesses only one ability: the power to change his appearance and physique. While he lacks the capability to compete with other extraordinary beings, this exceptional ability proves invaluable in many situations, so Zilings has never been willing to replace it. On the positive side, regardless of which soul he is guiding, he can simultaneously utilize his own extraordinary ability as a "Wind-眷" being. Finally, he feigned the pursuit of a noble lady's graceful figure, glancing over the Duke of Nigen and then across the gentlemen gathered around him. Duke Niggen is a devoted follower of the Lord of Storms and a pivotal figure in the Storm Church's influence over the kingdom's affairs. His side must be protected by extraordinary members of the Storm Church. Though the Niggen family is not centuries old, it ranks among the wealthiest and most powerful noble houses in the realm and undoubtedly seeks the formula for the sequence potions, as well as the allegiance of extraordinary individuals. Zilinger's thoughts raced; he eliminated the gentlemen of noble and official standing, narrowing his focus to a man who had always accompanied Duke Niggen. At the very moment when light and shadow intertwined, as the crowd's attention was drawn, several slender gusts of wind, concealed by the rushing wind, struck the metal chains supporting the crystal chandeliers—precisely at the same spot. Crack! A sharp, grating sound that made people's teeth ache, the massive crystal chandelier plummeted straight into the dance floor, sending reverberations through the ground, triggering a cascade of shrieks. Guests were wounded by flying shards, some gasping in sheer terror. Seizing the opportunity as the hall plunged into darkness and chaos, Qilingsgus subtly shifted his left glove, gradually forming a golden surface. His expression grew regal, his gaze piercing through the darkness, fixed firmly on the man standing beside Duke Nigen. Suddenly, two flashes of lightning ignited within Qilingsgus's eyes. The extraordinary being entrusted with protecting Duke Nigen instantly cried out in pain, clutching his head and collapsing to the ground, rolling and struggling desperately. With a sudden motion, Qilingzhes' figure surged through the darkness, rushing toward Duke Nigen. Yet within the deep, shadowed gaze of his eyes, the target remained utterly composed, filled with confidence. Duke Nigen stood firm, his broad, corpulent frame poised above the advancing assassin, gazing down with an air of regal composure. He raised his right hand and pushed forward, speaking in the low, ancient Hermes tongue: "Imprison!" Silently, Qilingzhes came to a sudden halt. Around him, it seemed as though transparent walls had materialized, or thick, viscous liquids flowed like molten glass. He appeared much like an insect encased in amber, or a prisoner within a fortress. To the conservative noble leadership, the hereditary Duke himself, Palas Nigen—was no ordinary man. He was an extraordinary one, a remarkably powerful one! Nigen Duke spoke once more, in a low tone, and waved his right hand: "Beat!" Crack! Crack! As if struck by invisible, supple whips, Qilingzhes' garments tore and his flesh split, his bones exposed. Immediately, Duke Nigan leaned forward, grasping his right fist and delivered a solemn judgment: "Death!" Crack! As he swung his arm, his entire body trailed a shimmering afterimage, colliding with Zilinger's form, while his fist struck the target's head with an irresistible, unyielding precision. Crunch! Zilinger's head shattered, yet everything around him followed suit—Duke Nigan remained standing, having merely dreamed. At some point, this pirate general had already shifted his ability, entering the "Nightmare" state. Unlike the ordinary "Nightmare," however, after dragging someone into the dream, he could still move freely himself! Zilinger's figure materialized silently behind Duke Nigan, his dark, cold eyes fixed upon him. His right fist, wrapped in a whirlwind of swift gusts, pierced the target's back like a blade. Hoo! Amid the surge of wind, Qilingges's right fist pierced through the Duke of Nigan's body, passing through his heart; yet the Duke's form rapidly faded into transparency, as though summoned from the realm of spirits. This nearly intangible shadow rippled and dispersed, and the Duke materialized before the grand double doors at the far end of the corridor, a contemplative smile upon his face. Another extraordinary being... had they prepared in advance? Had they ambushed me? How could this be! A thought flashed through Qilingges's mind. Though unwilling to accept the reality, he composed himself and responded with calmness. The gloves on his left hand subtly shimmered, revealing fine, dark golden scales, and his pupils lightened, rising upright. Immediately, an invisible wave surged outward, sweeping through the room. One by one, the gentlemen and ladies lost control of their fears, abandoning their hiding places and rushing haphazardly in every direction, plunging the scene into profound chaos. This made the extraordinary ones hesitate to act boldly, fearing they might harm their relatives and friends. Seizing the opportunity, Zinglars gathered a hurricane around him, sprinted at high speed, and crashed through a door of a lounge room, shattering the curved window panes. With a resounding crash, he leapt outward, riding the wind's favor and soaring a considerable distance, eventually clearing the Duke of Nigen's manor. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Zinglars dashed toward the opposite grove—a municipal park—he had already surveyed the surrounding terrain. Once he escaped the pursuers behind, he could transform his appearance and blend into the over five million residents of Beckland. This was precisely what enabled him to accept challenging assignments! Soon afterward, a strong wind swept toward the Duke's manor, and the Storm Church's Cardinal, the Archbishop of the Beckland diocese, and "The Singer of the Song of God," Es. Snack, arrived directly, via flight, accompanied by several "Substitutes for Punishment." He didn't have time to notify the other extraordinary beings. Aljer was one of the personnel who had accompanied Bishop Aes, but his mood was far from pleasant, for he had seen the broken windows and the colleagues fleeing the building just behind him. This indicated that "Storm Commander" Zingler had escaped.