Indeed... quite stylish! At the lady bodyguard's response, Caine smiled, his lips curling with clear delight. Hmm, able to hold her own against Rosagha, the "Master of Secret Figures," and even engage in a back-and-forth struggle—she's likely a fifth-tier strength. I wonder which sequence she belongs to, what her magic is called, and how remarkably unusual her current state is. Without her, I'd never have had the chance to even attempt using the "Language of Filth." Caine casually picked up the newspaper beside him, pretending to read, while actually thinking. However, he soon shifted his focus back to whether there were any weaknesses in his own position—such as Rosagha's lingering, contaminated extraordinary trait, which radiates a vivid, ethereal glow. Even with the iron cigarette box acting as a barrier, that glow might well be visible, directly exposing it to anyone with spiritual sight. Caine quietly activated his spiritual sight, lowered his gaze to his pocket, and observed the iron cigarette box. There, faint traces of color seemed to seep through, though they were not strong or particularly dense. This blended with the hues of his own aura, making it hard to distinguish and perceive. "Indeed, it takes at least a high-sequence strong practitioner to discern it through two layers of interference—hence, herbs, powdered roots, essential oils, and other materials must be stored in metal bottles rather than wooden ones. Some of these carry a spiritual essence, and with a refined spiritual sight, one can penetrate the wood and perceive the aura colors." Suddenly, Kline grasped certain practical considerations in the field of mysticism. Previously, he had followed procedures mechanically, without questioning the reasons; now he understood the true meaning behind the rules. After verifying everything repeatedly, Kline set down the newspaper and headed upstairs. He had originally intended to undress and bathe, to fully relax, but recalling that his bodyguard, an unpredictable presence, might appear anywhere at any time, he felt somewhat uneasy. So instead, he simply washed his face and teeth and soaked his feet in hot water. Back in the bedroom, he removed his coat, tucked away his belongings, and collapsed onto the bed. Exhausted and having held on for a while, his mind remained tense, making it difficult for him to fall asleep quickly. Gazing up at the deep crimson moonlight on the ceiling,克莱恩 didn't attempt to enter a deeper state of meditation. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift freely, much like riding a horse without holding the reins. As he thought, he realized that in Tingen, numerous coincidences had occurred, and later he understood their deep connection to the seal object "0–08." This led him to notice a question quickly: "The second case I took after arriving in Beckland granted me the recipes for the next three potion sequences—does that seem too coincidental?" "While this aligns with the prophecy I received—'Hope for growth lies in Beckland'—it still feels too swift and straightforward." "Simplicity doesn't refer to difficulty, but rather to the number of complications. This task is indeed difficult and dangerous, yet it's not complex—it appears simple." "According to my expectations, it should have unfolded through the gathering of intelligence by Miss Justice, Mr. The Hangman, Miss Hove, and her companion, gradually pinning down this ancient organization, with multiple setbacks and twists, ultimately securing the formula—this process should have taken at least three months. Yet, in less than three weeks, we've succeeded." "Is it possible that someone has orchestrated this from the very beginning?" "Yes... Let me retrace the steps. The connection between the Monastery and the Republic of Indest is no coincidence—it's substantiated by Emperor Rosel's personal diary." "The abilities of the 'Oracle' and the 'Faceless' are particularly well-suited for an intelligence-driven organization. It's entirely logical and normal that mid-tier members with similar profiles would serve as assistants to Becklang, the head of intelligence—there's no element of chance here." "The ambassador sent someone to retaliate against me—there should have been a strategy to divert attention. Sending Rosagho, who is both the easiest to target and the easiest to escape, is a logical move to reduce risk, and therefore entirely predictable. "Thinking further back, the first two cases I became involved in after my arrival were both directly connected to the 'Seer' path—something that can be explained by the '0–08' arrangement." "By the way, the Antigonid family's records still contaminated the 'Fateful Puppet,' showing me the complex vertical eye symbol associated with their treasure. At the time, I reasoned that once the bloodline of the Antigonid family had dwindled to extinction, the symbol would naturally designate me, as a Seer who had personally encountered it while still alive, as its rightful heir." "Looking back now, that explanation seems rather trivial—what if I am, in fact, a devoted follower of the Night Goddess? Nevertheless, at the time, I only offered it as a hypothesis, without asserting it definitively." "The Antigonid family's treasure clearly involves the 'Seer' path." "Thinking deeper, why did I end up transferring here, specifically into Caine's body rather than someone else? At that time, Caine was performing a black divination and had been controlled by the Antigonous family's records to commit suicide—records that clearly relate to the 'Seer' path." "Moreover, the first Rosel diary I encountered already contained entries about regretting not choosing the apprentice, the thief, and the Seer path—most coincidental." "Tracing everything from beginning to end, aside from the 0–08 segments, the events appear haphazard, as if arranged passively rather than intentionally—more like an intermittent, mutual attraction." "Am I drawing toward things and elements connected to the 'Seer' path, while simultaneously being drawn by them?" "It's quite strange—this attraction even indirectly influences fate, to the point that Mr. Azk could hardly notice it?" "Do I possess some unusual quality about myself?" "Such a trait would allow me to die and rise again, limitedly?" Thinking this, Caine suddenly felt a strong impulse to consult the gray mist for confirmation. Yet he quickly dismissed the idea—not only because the lady attendant might be watching through the mirror, but because he believed his most defining trait was precisely the mysterious space above the gray mist! Thus, using that very space to consult itself for an answer seemed impossible. At least for now, there were no obvious traces of manipulation; mere attraction was acceptable. Moreover, I've already chosen my extraordinary path—before Sequence 4, I can't change it. So, let's just take things step by step for now... Hmm, I'll firmly decide not to seek the Antigonous family's treasure in the Honaquis Mountains. He chuckled softly to himself, a quiet self-mockery, as a sense of easing fatigue gradually rose, drawing his eyelids shut. His last thought before falling asleep was: to attend as many extraordinary gatherings as possible, and to gather the exceptional materials corresponding to "The Magician" through "The Justice" lady, "The Empress" gentleman, and "The Sun" classmate—without hesitating even on those associated with "The Faceless One"—and to secure at least one magical item with minimal negative effects, so as to strengthen his own defenses while still digesting the current information and building up his strength. Beyond that, he intended to invest, take on commissions, save money, and seek out Lan'uris, using him as the starting point for his revenge—essentially, a way to gain experience. “Well… I should say the police truly arrived late—yet, I’m grateful they did. Klein smiled and asked, ‘Did they find anything?’ He was very certain of the answer; if the MI9 had indeed uncovered anything, he wouldn’t have woken up naturally. ‘No.’ The bodyguard’s figure faded, dissolving into the mirror. How impressive—she can’t even be detected by spiritual sight… Perhaps it’s the extraordinary ability inherited from Rosagó? Maybe she can perceive those hidden threads and thus locate the bodyguard? Klein’s mind sparked with this thought, and he returned to the bedside, pulling out the iron cigarette box from beneath the pillow. He had just acquired it and hadn’t yet opened it when a sudden, piercing chill swept over his neck, making his hair stand on end and his entire body tremble. Clang! He let go, and the iron cigarette box fell to the floor. This is the bodyguard's warning... Kline cleared his throat, smiled awkwardly, and as if nothing had happened, tucked the iron cigarette box into his pants pocket. After washing up and dressing, he descended to the first floor and retrieved the newspapers he had subscribed to from the box outside the door. Unfolding the Tasok Chronicle, Kline spotted a prominent headline: "Ambassador Beckland of Intis Murdered; Terror Organization 'Aurora Circle' Claims Responsibility!" How quickly this news had emerged? And yet, 'Aurora Circle' had only been hired—why claim responsibility now? Ah... Terror organizations also seek prestige and image-building to attract fresh talent, which complements their secret missionary work... Mr. A is indeed impressive—likely the 'Shepherd'... Kline stood in the foyer, carefully reading the news. According to the news report, there was clear evidence that the "Aurora Society" had attacked Ambassador Beckland on the spot, and subsequent investigations uncovered letters deliberately left behind by the society, officially attributing responsibility. In the closing segment of the report, the journalist briefly introduced the "Aurora Society," listing several instances of their violations, instantly elevating their profile above most of the other secret organizations. Regardless of what happened, the matter was now fully resolved... Cain exhaled, turned his head toward the window, and saw a thin mist drifting slowly, with sparse drizzle falling. "It's not supposed to be bright sunshine, clear weather to set the scene, is it?" Cain chuckled to himself, a touch of self-mockery. And now, he would have to go out and catch them in the act.