On a Tuesday morning,克莱恩 woke naturally and prepared himself with two slices of toast, a pat of butter, a piece of bacon, and a cup of coffee, enjoying his breakfast leisurely while reading the newspaper. With the ominous sigil of "The Corrupt Speech" now settled in his mind, he felt more at ease, no longer as tense as he had been earlier.哗啦—after flipping through the *Becelands Post*, he picked up the *Tassok News* and spotted a headline on the second page: "At approximately 2:00 a.m. today, a fierce gunfight erupted in the Red Brick Lane of the East District. According to police reports, this may involve a conflict between two crime factions, one of which is the well-known Zmang Group." The Zmang Group... Red Brick Lane... Suddenly, an idea struck him. He set down his breakfast and retrieved the map of Becelands. After a quick glance, he noticed that Red Brick Lane was not far from White Brandy Street, where Ian Wright had previously been seen at the telegraph office. Could Red Brick Lane be Ian Wright's place of concealment? It's been a fierce clash between the military's special units and the Intis intelligence staff—still unclear what the outcome will be... Caine lifted his last piece of bacon, took a slow bite and chewed thoughtfully. He had only shared the divination insights with both parties the morning before, and by that evening, they had already pinpointed Ian's location—an impressive level of efficiency. He sipped his coffee, set down the newspaper, and settled into contemplation. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, echoing continuously. "Who is it?" Caine wiped his lips with a napkin, approached the door with curiosity. Could it be a new commission? The past few days, I've been out constantly handling matters concerning the Intis ambassador—so many commissions missed, so many potential clients lost... it's a waste of my advertising budget. If this continues, my financial situation will soon become strained. Caine found himself thinking of numerous such concerns, and reached out to open the door. Two women stand outside. One is Mrs. Summer, dressed in a morning gown, quite formal, with a refined makeup that makes her appear more delicate and youthful than at home—she seems barely in her thirties. The other wears a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a delicate black lace veil, her dress in deeper tones and slightly voluminous. "Detective Moriaty, I have a friend who would like your assistance," says Stella Summer, holding the hat in her hands, her blue eyes devoid of any smile. "Please come in," says Kline, indicating the living room area, while turning to adjust the top button of his shirt and straighten his black jacket. Stella nods gently, says nothing, and leads the woman with the veil covering her face into the room. She is very familiar with the space and easily finds the sofa, settling into it without needing Kline's guidance. Kline had intended to ask questions immediately, but considering Stella Summer's style, he smiles and asks softly, "Would you like coffee or tea?" "Summer太太 in his eyes was a woman who pursued a refined lifestyle and always sought to convey an air of superiority." "No, thank you," said another lady, removing her wide-brimmed hat with a fine check black lace. Her individual features were acceptable, but together they fell short; moreover, her cheekbones were too prominent, making her appear considerably older than her actual age. A touch of anger, a touch of sadness, a touch of hesitation, a touch of fear—Cline read those emotions in the lady. This wasn't something he suddenly developed as a viewer; it was simply that the woman expressed them so clearly. "Yes, neither coffee nor tea seems to resolve the matter," Staline mimicked the posture from a magazine, striving to sit with more grace. "This is Mrs. Mary Gale, a shareholder of Coym Company." "Mrs. Gale, what would you like to entrust to me?" Cline settled into the armchair, slightly leaning forward, arms resting on his thighs. "Don't call me Mrs. Gail—just call me Mary," Mary Gail said, pressing her lips together. "I'd like you to follow my husband and verify whether he has a mistress, preferably with tangible evidence." Thanks to the long-standing advocacy of the Night Goddess Church, the Kingdom of Run has been more progressive than countries like Fesak, Intis, and Lunburg in marital law, requiring individuals who breach their marriage to bear financial consequences—thus placing them at a decisive disadvantage in property division. It's said that among private detectives, at least four out of ten cases involve investigating infidelity—unfortunately, I've also come across one. Kline said thoughtfully, "Tangible evidence isn't easy to obtain." "I'll lend you the latest model of portable camera right away," Mary replied without hesitation. "As long as you secure evidence, I'll pay you ten pounds. If your task is merely to confirm whether my husband has a mistress, then three pounds will be sufficient." "Are you referring to that portable camera that's only two-thirds the size of my head? Ten pounds—quite a price, isn't it?... Klein has recently been focused on startups and is quite familiar with the latest camera models. After hesitating for two seconds, he said, 'Very well.' 'But you'll need to provide detailed information about your husband, as well as his daily routines.' 'No problem!' Mary paused for a moment, then spoke with the strength of someone drawing on all her energy. 'Thank you for your help—I hope you won't tell anyone about this,' Stella added beside her. Upon hearing this, Klein sighed deeply. 'I'm someone who values confidentiality very much—often to the point of causing trouble.' ... In the grand hall of the Earl of Wolf, couples danced gracefully to the melodies of the violin. Audrey, holding a glass of pale gold champagne, 'happened' to meet the Ambassador of the Indeis Republic, Beclan Jean Madan. "You are the most beautiful lady I have ever seen," said Beckland, his lean face still bearing a few strands of beard, gently brushing the back of Audrey's white-gloved hand with a formal kiss. His gaze was warm and bold. Audrey glanced at him with a light smile. "Is this indeed the way Indis people speak?" "Yes," Beckland chuckled, "when it comes to beauty, we never hesitate to praise. If it weren't for the customs of the Luon Kingdom, I might well have called you my angel." Old flirt... Audrey maintained her graceful smile. "Luonians and Indis truly differ in that regard." "Hmm," he said, thinking of a joke, "allow me a moment of boldness." "Beckland squinted slightly," said he, "After sharing beautiful moments with a lovely lady, most men from Ruin would say, 'Oh, dear, I'd like to light a cigarette,' while most men from Intis would say..." He paused deliberately. Audrey tilted her head slightly, trying to hide her discomfort and feigning bewilderment. "What would they say?" "Most men from Intis would say, 'Oh, my dear, I must be going—I can't let my wife catch me.' Beckland raised his cup and smiled. "Those who know how to make themselves self-deprecating always possess an added charm," Audrey replied politely. Her bright, clear green eyes suddenly turned toward the back of Ambassador Beckland. "Excuse me, I have a friend who's been waiting for me." "It's been a pleasure chatting with you," Beckland bowed slightly and stepped aside. Audrey moved gracefully forward, never looking back. As she was considering who to use as an excuse for her earlier departure, a young gentleman approached, lowering his voice to remind her: "Audrey, don't be deceived by the Ambassador Beckland—he's a seasoned seducer! He's fooled quite a few ladies into bed." Beckland's fondness for beauty? That aligns with my observations... this is a weakness... Audrey glanced at him with a smile, not concealing her disdain: "Constance, do you have any misjudgment about me? Heaven's sake, how could I be captivated by Ambassador Beckland? His perfume is so overpowering I'd nearly retch; his speech is so crude, and his taste—well, it's nothing but that of a peacock." Constance is the youngest son of Lord Lirsen, and his family maintains a close friendship with the Hall family. According to Audrey's knowledge, after graduating from Tingen University, Constance joined MI9 and has since become increasingly enigmatic. Her original plan had been to chat with Ambassador Becklange for a while, get a close look at him, and then, citing irritation with him, seek out her friends who had entered the intelligence world—like Constance Lirsen—for more information. But it turned out that Constance Lirsen had come on his own, and had already initiated the conversation. "Your feeling is correct," Constance said, smiling sincerely, glancing around, and speaking softly. "And Becklange is actually a very dangerous man." "How dangerous?" Audrey asked, naturally curious. "You've heard of the Exceptional Ones, haven't you? I know you've always been interested in that area." Constance said, carefully. Audrey nodded lightly. "I'm quite familiar with them—most of what I know comes from Grelint. Kang glanced at Beckland, who was chatting casually with a noblewoman, and said seriously, "He's been Intis's chief intelligence officer in the kingdom and has done quite a few wrong things. However, we've never managed to gather solid evidence against him. He himself is a Sequence 6—'The Conspirator.' " He didn't go into great detail with the outsider, Odile, and didn't mention that 'The Conspirator' belongs to the 'Hunter' path. Yet Odile was already well-informed, so she simply expressed her admiration with a touch of naivety, saying, "He truly is impressive!" "He also has an assistant working behind the scenes—possibly at Sequence 5. Moreover, all of Intis's intelligence personnel across the kingdom report directly to him, and among them are several extraordinary individuals. Unfortunately, at present, we only have a handful of such cases." Kang added briefly. "Even if Beckland praises you, don't be overly pleased—this isn't really what he thinks. He merely wants to gather more intelligence through your praise." "I don't particularly like the way you just said that..." Audrey glanced up at the magnificent chandelier, paused for a few seconds, and then said, "Is Beckland really very intelligent? You've never managed to gather any concrete evidence against him..." "He is indeed skilled at plotting schemes, but he has several shortcomings—he's quite fond of women, always seeking romantic gestures, ventures into bold and progressive actions. If it weren't for his position as ambassador, which has often hindered our initiatives, he would have been apprehended long ago," Konst remarked, with a slight disdain. "However, he will be replaced soon—very soon." "Why?" Audrey asked, surprised. "My dear, beautiful lady, this is not information you are meant to know," Konst insisted, firmly upholding his confidentiality. By the time the ball drew near its close, having gathered further intelligence, Audrey approached Viscount Graylin and asked him to help connect with Hugh and Fotherse.