On a Wednesday morning, in the Joewood district, opposite the Coyum Company. Caine sat on a wooden bench outside the Gardeley department store, one hand holding a paper bag filled with the most renowned Dickey's Daisy pie from the neighborhood, the other cradling a cup of sweet iced tea. Beside him, a homeless man had curled up on the other side of the bench to sleep, only to be woken and escorted away by the store's security staff a few minutes later. Caine wore a pair of lightweight gold-framed glasses with minimal prescription and a half-high silk hat, blending seamlessly with the surrounding gentlemen passing by. He leisurely watched the Coyum Company across the street, lifted his right hand, and bit deeply into the Dickey's Daisy pie, savoring its rich, juicy flavor and lingering aftertaste. This pie from the Dickey's Bay region stands out among many southern pie varieties precisely because it uses generous amounts of oil and fatty meat, yet the meat is finely chopped, resulting in a balanced blend of lean and fatty textures that never becomes heavy or greasy. The rich, meaty juice seeped into the outer crust, balancing out the dryness and compensating for its shortcomings, allowing the wheat aroma to unfold in distinct layers. The scattered chunks of apple, with their slightly tart yet sweet flavor, stimulated the appetite and cut through the richness. Moreover... Despite the poor weather and heavy pollution in Beckland, the city far surpasses Tinggen in terms of dining variety and diversity—there's something to suit every taste, from opera to drama, as long as one is willing to spend. Though he might not always go to eat or see the performances, the simple fact that he has the choice is what makes city life so valuable. Klein raised his sweet iced tea and sipped comfortably. His gaze had never left the entrance of Coym Company, where he had sat since 8 a.m. to secure those ten pounds—his breakfasts bought on the way. Of course, for most private detectives, a single assignment yielding ten pounds is a truly admirable achievement, equivalent to a typical middle-class salary earned over three weeks! According to Mary Gale's information, her husband currently serves as the first manager at Coym Company, reporting directly to Luke Summer, though the shares they hold in Coym Company originated from Mary's father and were inherited by her. One reason she suspects her husband of having a mistress is that several employees have informed her that Dorag Gale leaves the office alone on Wednesdays and Fridays in the morning, returning only in the afternoon, and that he also leaves work early on two other days each week—something Mary has never observed her husband doing, as he has never entered the house before seven o'clock. After breakfast, Cline waited for over an hour before finally spotting the target person exiting Coym Company. He wore a black hat, a wool double-breasted suit, a standard necktie, was slightly overweight, with light yellow hair at the temples, brown eyes, and a somewhat elongated face. Dolaguer Gail... Kline murmured the name aloud, then stood up abruptly, picked up his staff and the heavy portable camera, and walked toward the other side. Dolaguer did not have his coachman come to fetch him; instead, he stood by the roadside, scanning the surroundings, searching for a rented carriage. In the meantime, Kline crossed the street and approached him, pretending to be careless and colliding with him. "I'm sorry," Kline said, bowing slightly. Dolaguer frowned immediately but remained silent, waving a hand to indicate it was nothing. Kline quickly bent down, curtsied, and then walked toward the street corner. The collision he had made with Dolaguer earlier was not intended to dislodge or steal any of the other man's personal belongings so that he could easily follow him using the "staff method"—that would have been too obvious and easily noticed. At the moment of impact, all克莱恩 did was, using the agility of the "Clown," gently slide a spare button from his double-breasted formal suit into one of the decorative pockets of his target. Turning the corner, he paused, looked back, and there he saw Dolarag boarding a hired carriage.克莱恩 didn't rush to follow; instead, he waited patiently for several minutes before finally getting into another carriage and instructing the driver: "Follow my directions and go to the end of this street." "Understood," the driver replied without asking why. Inside the carriage,克莱恩 stood with his cane, beginning to cast his divination. Yet his incantations did not refer to Dolarag or Gail, but instead focused on the whereabouts of the spare buttons from his suit. The "cane divination" method, originally and most practically used for locating objects, was only traditionally employed by "seers" to find people—this time,克莱恩 restored it to its original purpose. The most convenient and easily accessible items were those belonging to one's own type! As he journeyed on, Caine continuously asked the driver to adjust the route, until he reached a street-front house in the Hillsdon district. During the turn he had just made, he noticed that the property featured a garden and lawn—unlike typical residential homes. His "divination staff" indicated that Doraguel Gail resided within this house. After paying the driver two soules, Caine approached the entrance adorned with marble statues and saw two men dressed in black-and-white check uniforms, seemingly imitating police officers, standing there. "I don't know you. Could you please produce your membership card?" the man of South Continent descent, with a warm, brownish complexion, stepped forward to block Caine's path. "A membership card?" Caine concealed his heavy camera behind his back and asked, frowning slightly. The man with a warm, golden-brown complexion immediately stiffened: "This is the Crag Club. Only our members and guests accompanying members are admitted, and only one guest at a time." Kline nodded once: "Then how does one join your club?" "One must receive recommendations from two current members," the man replied patiently, without abruptly pushing the visitor away. He couldn't be certain the visitor wouldn't simply turn around and leave without joining. "Very well," Kline said, tugging at his lips and deciding to activate Plan B. He found a hotel near the Crag Club and booked a short-term room for four hours. Then he locked the door, drew the curtains, and stepped into the gray mist, where before him unfolded a warm-brown vellum and a round-bodied steel pen. Taking a deep breath, Kline wrote down the same divination sentence as before: "The whereabouts of the spare buttons from my coat." This time, it's no longer the "divination by staff," but the "dream divination method!" The reason they're not conducting it outside is that Klein feels the Crag Club looks quite upscale, suspecting that there might be powerful extraordinary individuals within. To avoid wasting time, he decided to make it a one-time, efficient visit. In the hazy dream world, Klein first saw Dorag's woolen black coat hanging on a coat rack, with a circular table placed on the carpet in front of it. As the scene expanded, images of men and women swaying and moving came into view— the man was Dorag Gail, and the woman had radiant golden hair, in her early twenties. Her furrowed brow and expression of pain were especially charming... Why do I always keep seeing these scenes? Klein covered his eyes and woke up. Dorag's having a mistress seems well established—now, the question is, how to obtain concrete evidence? Through a response to a request? But this applied only to what he personally acquired—through sketches, not through the camera... Could I possibly draw a photograph by hand? It seems today won't work out. I'll follow that woman, find out her address and name, and I won't believe they meet again and again at the Crag Club. Detective Klein quickly formed a clear plan for the next steps. Just as he was about to leave this mysterious space above the gray mist, he suddenly remembered another matter. Should he make a divination, to verify whether the iron-black worm that had entered his room was being manipulated by a remarkable one through the path of the Seer? Previously, he hadn't done so, because the relevant information had been too sparse, making it difficult to assume success—definitely a failure in divination, even in the gray mist—and since he had several pressing matters upon his hands each time he arrived, he had simply not found time to attend to other concerns. Now, with nothing else to do, it would be a simple matter to make a divination, and no harm would come from it. Regarding the question of whether contacting Azk has risks, he had already consulted the oracles long ago—the answer was affirmative: there are indeed risks, substantial ones, making it a last-resort choice. He wrote down the corresponding oracle incantation, then unfastened the silver chain from his sleeve, allowing the yellow crystal pendant to hang above the parchment. "Previously, the iron-black worm that infiltrated my room was being manipulated by a Unique one of the 'Oracle' path." ... After silently reciting the incantation seven times,克莱恩 opened his eyes and observed the spirit lamp rotating clockwise—swiftly and with strong amplitude. Definitely... the answer is definite! Shouldn't it have failed, then?克莱恩 hadn't expected such a positive outcome. By his instinct as an Oracle, such a divination was likely to falter. Why? He furrowed his brow, pondering for a while, then decided to try a different method and shift his focus. He would now directly consult the one manipulating the worm, using the 'Dream Oracle Method'. This time, in his dream, Klein saw nothing at all—no inspiration from the extraordinary being of the "Seer." "That makes sense..." he murmured, turning back to the earlier divination, lost in thought. It should have been a failure due to insufficient conditions—just like the one that followed... Could it be? Could it be? Perhaps this mysterious space itself supplied the missing conditions? Maybe it harbored certain elements of the "Seer" path? Suddenly, a flash of insight struck Klein—bold idea forming! Perhaps this mysterious space above the gray mist is connected to the "Seer" path! Hmm... Klein gently tapped the edge of the ancient long table, but after careful consideration, found no further evidence. He decided to set this matter aside for now and prepare to return to the real world. "Regardless of what else, at least one thing has been confirmed: there's a mid-tier extraordinary among the 'Seers' pathway stationed at the ambassador's side, and whether or not he's a member of the Convent isn't particularly important... This might very well be my opportunity to obtain the Sequence 7, or even Sequence 6, potion recipes!" Kline radiated spiritual energy, enveloping himself and sinking into the gray mist. ........ Meanwhile, in the study of the Viscount of Glayntrit. Audrey asked the host to remain outside, watching over Hugh and Fotherse, and after a moment's thoughtful pause said: "I have a task that requires your assistance." "What task?" Hugh's eyes brightened, as if he could already smell the ink on the money. Audrey offered a polite smile: "To assassinate the ambassador of Intis to the Kingdom, Beclan Jean Madan." ps: Updates will be posted early in the morning.