By this point, both Caine and Leonard lifted their gaze from the letter, locked eyes, and each murmured, "Is this man mad?" "Is Lan'urus the quietly mad one?" Truly mad—someone with full-blown delusions and antisocial personality traits... Caine's mind raced, his heart tightening, and he quickly turned his attention back to the letter: "Ladies and gentlemen, my suggestion is that I've placed a bomb in Tinggen. A bomb that will grow stronger over time." "Go find it and resolve it before it explodes on its own. If you fail, the entire city of Tinggen will be reduced to rubble. Believe me—I haven't deceived you in this matter." "Lan'urus, the one who always delights his friends with surprises." "A bomb?" Caine turned to Leonard, murmuring in quiet wonder. Leonard aligned the letter with the sunlight, scanned it back and forth several times, but found no other clues. "The bomb must merely be a metaphor—I've never heard of a bomb that continuously grows stronger." Klein furrowed his brows, thoughtfully responding, "No, I mean, this might be a mystical kind of bomb—something like certain evil rituals that continuously accumulate power..." Leonard tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something, his expression suddenly serious. With a subtle nod of his green eyes, he said, "Perhaps your interpretation is correct. There was a description at the beginning of the letter—child laborers who keep dying prematurely, factory workers who rarely live past ten years due to harsh conditions, women who take serious health risks yet receive only meager wages, factories burdened with countless grievances. These might very well be the sources of strength that allow the 'bomb' in Larnuus to grow stronger over time." "Yes—very likely!" "Klein's expression tightened instantly," "We must report to the captain immediately!" Leonard smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry so much—you should know by now that Lan'urus is a 'con artist'; perhaps even his claim of being 'unpretentious' is itself a form of deception." "Of course. Regardless, we need to go back to Zothlan Street and inform the captain. Ideally, we should request that the Hall send a specialist in Mysticism—someone who can identify the unusual convergence of grievances and trace the location of the altar." How fluent and composed that sounded... yet, why specifically seek out Hude Egen for a setting and altar so similar to others? What role could a 'psychologist' possibly play in such matters? Klein didn't object, and together with Leonard, they left the 62nd street building in Hauls and took a hired carriage back to Zothlan Street. As soon as克莱恩 entered the main doors of Blackthorn Security, he spotted two familiar faces—one full-figured and one slender—none other than the wife and sister of Senator Meunier. They were still dressed in black dresses, wearing black hats and veiled in fine, textured black veils that concealed their features. The two women were about to speak with Rosan when they suddenly noticed克莱恩 returning, so they turned to face him and approached. "You are indeed the most elite in this field," Meunier夫人 said gently, her voice low. "I'm very satisfied with the outcome, and I truly appreciate your approach—this is well-deserved recognition." The slender woman handed克莱恩 a light brown paper bag containing thick stacks of cash—some in ten-pound notes, others in five-pound, one-pound, five-shilling, and one-shilling denominations. "Total: 230 pounds," the slender woman said simply. Klein simply didn’t have the heart to worry about money right now. He tossed the matter to Rosan, saying, “Take it to Mrs. Olina. I’m certain the two distinguished ladies won’t make a mistake in counting.” At the same time, his peripheral vision caught the copy of *The Honest Citizen of Tingen* held by Mrs. Menard. On the front page, two prominent news items stood out: “The Widow of the Late Baron Dies Following Her Involvement in the Murder Case of Mr. Menard” “Mayor Dennis Resigns, Expressing Sorrow Over the Deteriorating Security Situation in Tingen Over the Past Three Months.” Had the case involving Mrs. Sherron finally reached a consensus? He hadn’t even had time to read the newspaper today. Klein nodded to the two ladies and followed Leonard through the partition toward the captain’s office. “How’s it going? Any leads?” asked Dunn Smith, closing his files and lifting his gaze with his deep gray eyes to Klein and Leonard. “We’ve found a letter left behind by Larnuus.” Leonard didn't offer much elaboration; he simply handed the captain the letter, filled with madness and defiance. Dunn unfolded the paper, skimmed through it quickly, then rubbed his temple and said, "He's absolutely mad." "He's only at Sequence 8, maybe Sequence 7." Kaine sincerely agreed: "Lan'Urus is a deeply destabilizing threat to social stability. Even with his relatively weak strength, we can't overlook him." He then recounted his and Leonard's observations verbatim. Dunn ran a hand over the receding hairline at his scalp and said, "That's exactly what I've been thinking. I'll immediately send a telegraph to the Hall, requesting that they dispatch a mystic specialist to assist." "We simply don't know how dangerous Lan'Urus' so-called 'bomb' truly is—we must remain cautious." "I'll proceed with the next steps once I receive confirmation from the Hall." Kaine and Leonard exchanged glances and nodded in unison. "Agreed." While the captain was sending a telegram to the Hall, Caine returned to the reception hall and took a copy of The Tingenthaler Journal of Honest People from Rosan. Standing at the partition, he read the two news items carefully: "...a brave officer... Is that how Cohen-Li is described? Kline sighed, knowing this was the best course of action. According to the night watch's internal regulations, to prevent evil forces from retaliating against their own families, even those who sacrificed themselves could not be remembered or celebrated by the general public. As he silently folded the newspaper and placed it back on the reception desk, Kline suddenly noticed a new visitor approaching at the door. She was a woman, though not particularly old—no more than twenty-five, wearing a lotus-shaped hat, a loose dress, with a clean forehead, long golden hair, green eyes, and a quiet, melancholy demeanor, making her quite a beautiful sight. What stood out most, however, was her prominent, swollen belly, suggesting she was already seven months pregnant. Kline paused, feeling as though he had seen her before. Then, he heard Leonard exclaim in surprise, "Miss Meaghuise?" "Meigouls... yes, the young lady deceived by Larnuus! She's pregnant with Larnuus's child, and her mental state has been affected—she claims her child sings and blows whistles even in the womb. Klein suddenly understood, and it wasn't surprising that Leonard knew Meigouls. Whenever the night shift staff reviewed the cases and related items involving Larnuus, Meigouls's photograph was seen by each of them. Klein had known her earlier, when her aunt, Miss Christina, who had lost all her savings to Larnuus, brought her to the Divination Club seeking assistance, even asking whether the child within her counted as one of the relevant items. At that moment, Meigouls, her eyes slightly unfocused, looked at both of them with polite courtesy and said, "Good evening." "Miss Meigouls, what brings you to our Black Thorns Security Company? Do you have any matter you'd like to entrust us with?" Klein stepped forward and asked. He was utterly puzzled by Meghovis's sudden visit, finding it incredibly, incredibly, incredibly coincidental. Hadn't Lanuris just left a letter, and then Meghovis appeared right away? Meghovis touched her belly and smiled lightly. "I don't know why, but suddenly I found myself thinking of coming to Zothlan Street, suddenly wanting to see you here." Her mental condition was worsening ever so much... Remembering that he had failed to activate his spiritual vision the last time he hadn't been able to check on Meghovis's state, he slightly lifted his teeth, ready to tap them gently to the left. But at that very moment, he suddenly froze, a series of increasingly vivid thoughts flashing through his mind: "I can't see!" "I can't see! I can't see!" "I'll die!" "I'll die if I see!" "I'll die if I see!" ... Standing statue-like, he remained motionless, beads of cold sweat forming all over his forehead. He felt as though he had just woken from the deepest, most profound nightmare, and barely managed to stir. Suddenly, he realized something: the previous time, he hadn't been too late in activating his spiritual vision—he had simply been held back by an unimaginable danger sensed at a deeply intuitive level, which had made him instinctively sluggish, causing him to miss the moment and forget what came after. At that time, Caine hadn't fully absorbed the "Seer" potion nor had he yet reached Sequence 8, so the spiritual resistance had been subtle and hard to notice, like an automatic, habitual action that he wouldn't have consciously paid much attention to. Now, however, the spiritual awareness triggered by his "Clown" intuition was so clear and vivid! After several seconds, Caine finally broke free from the state of drenched in cold sweat, turning his head to look at Leonard, only to find that the "Midnight Poet" was equally pale, drenched in sweat, and filled with fear. Suddenly, Caine understood exactly what Lan'urus had meant by that "bomb"—it was the infant inside Meghous! The child he had left behind! Klein instantly recalled the description in the letter and Hude Egen's response, and suddenly remembered a passage from Roser's journal: "The industrial revolution I personally initiated, the age of steam and machinery I personally forged—will this become the cradle for the rise of the evil deities?" His pupils contracted as he considered a possibility, yet instinctively resisted acknowledging it: No! This doesn't make sense! The child within Megeous is not the offspring of the evil deity, nor is it an evil deity striving to be born! No! How could Hude Egen possibly make such a foolish move! Though his skill as a psychiatrist had indeed helped Larnuus conceal Megeous, keeping her in a semi-comatose state as a vessel for conception. No! The collective resentment of the child laborers who died, the female workers who perished, and the factory workers who never lived past their teens—was not fueling the rapid growth of this evil deity's offspring! No!