"The future of Laverstoke Ponder." Crane grasped the baron's hair, closed his eyes, and, through meditation, entered a deep sleep. In the hazy, dim landscape, he saw a narrow, irregular opening. Laverstoke Ponder, with sunken eyes and gray hair, propped himself on his elbows and crawled out, like a creature moving through the earth. Then, the scene shifted—without knowing where he'd obtained it, he lifted a black iron insignia and fastened it to his chest. Carved upon the insignia was a staff, and a hand gripping that staff. "Tudor!" Crane suddenly awoke from his dream, sitting upright. According to the pages of the pages of the lady-in-attendance, the insignia bore the royal emblem of the Fourth Dynasty of the Tudor Empire—exactly the same as the one he had seen in that ancient building. "Laverstoke Ponder is far from what he seemed to be earlier," Crane murmured, rubbing his forehead. As a "seer," he offers his own interpretation of the insights he received in his recent dream. On one hand, he knows that these are behaviors that Laverne Pound will indeed undertake in the future; on the other hand, he believes this signifies a deep connection between Laverne Pound and the Tredwell family! After passing through three trials—direct questioning, "dream-entrance" exploration, and "spiritual communication"—Lavette Pound revealed no issues at all, and I detected not a single anomaly. If it weren't for the reserve I still held, I would have been deceived. Perhaps... perhaps he truly knows nothing now. What happened just now was genuine, and it's only in the future, when the opportunity arises, that he will unexpectedly connect with the Tord family. But more likely, he has already learned quite a bit from my lord, Lord Jao. Until he feels confident, he has deliberately deteriorated, feigning madness and incompetence. His ability to evade my "dream-entrance" and "spiritual communication" tests must stem from some exceptional talent. Hmm... at the time, he wasn't acting—he was genuinely in a state of mental haze. Otherwise, he would have revealed his shortcomings before me, given my experience in such matters. What kind of exceptional ability could that be? What is his sequence level? Or does he possess an innate, inherent talent of some kind? Klein thought this way continuously, feeling as though he had reached a dead end, and then pulled back, shifting his perspective, murmuring silently: "Ravert Ponde has deep ties to the Tuthill family..." "Could it be a bold assumption that he is actually a descendant of the Tuthill family?" "If his blood relation to the old baron is genuine, then this becomes quite interesting." "Is the entire Ponde family a branch of the Tuthill family that changed their name and fled to escape pursuit?" "They built their reputation, earned their titles, and gradually returned to the heart of power—while simultaneously seeking the hidden ruins left behind by the Tuthill Empire in Beckland." "How many years passed before they finally made their discovery, and thus purchased the house currently belonging to Miller Carter, constructing an elaborate basement to explore the surrounding area." "Several decades ago, they uncovered the ruins and built a secret passage leading to them." "But during the exploration of the ruins, an unexpected turn occurred—the malevolent spirit refused to recognize anyone as a descendant of the Tord family. Both heirs of the lordship died in the innermost room, and not a single extraordinary trait or magical artifact could be saved. Although the lordship spent considerable resources to acquire similar extraordinary traits, making the deaths appear more ordinary, the consecutive sudden deaths still raised suspicions among the royal court and the Church. Thus, after the lordship's passing, Lafford Pound deliberately exaggerated and distorted the earlier covert investigations, inducing psychological distress and subsequently indulging himself in wine, women, and gambling, effectively retreating from public attention. This explains a matter that had puzzled me before: how could such a distinguished noble family be entirely controlled by an unknown figure from somewhere, while the royal court and the Church remained completely blind?" Even if they needed to exert control, they would do so in a more subtle, less noticeable way—such as through my own path, Sequence 6, "The Faceless One." "Can a child even detect something unusual? How much more so for the royal family and the three great churches' powerful members?" "The only explanation for their 'lack of awareness' is that those individuals were sent by them." "Hmm... I had initially speculated that the Tudor and Trentsost families also followed the 'Black Emperor' path. Therefore, in order to fulfill their role as performers, they preserved the style and characteristics of the Solomon Empire—something the bodyguard lady has subtly confirmed." "Sequence 9 of the 'Black Emperor' path is 'The Lawyer,' a remarkably adept profession at leveraging structure and order. Hmm... Lafferty Pound's deception of the 'Dreaming' and 'Spirit-Seeing' abilities—was that precisely due to this, or perhaps even more so?" He fully cooperated with me, yet even in dreams and half-conscious states, he unconsciously exploited subtle flaws in the established order, steering the outcome toward his desired direction. "Take a closer look, and it seems that during the spirit-communication process, Lord Rafter Ponder hasn't exactly lied—he's simply telling a partially true story. 'Maintaining the family's legacy' could refer to the Ponder family, or to the Tord family as well." Klein's thoughts gradually clarified, forming a comprehensive understanding of the situation: Given Lord Rafter Ponder's current stance, without external assistance, the malevolent spirit should be unable to escape. Otherwise, he would have already taken action to save himself—regardless of whether the spirit approached him or not. As soon as the spirit broke free from the seal and caused a disaster, the underground ruins would inevitably come to the attention of the royal family and the Church, and Lord Rafter would surely be drawn into the consequences. The collapse of the adjacent room, though dramatic, did not weaken the force binding the spirit—this indicates that as long as the innermost room remains undisturbed, the spirit cannot escape. Ah, the plan is now clear: purchase explosives from Caspar, collapse the entrance, block everyone's access, and bury the spirit forever. Once I've gained sufficient strength, I'll return to address it, eliminate the threat for the citizens of Beckland I have absolutely no idea... Perhaps Caspar knows someone who specializes in explosives? After all, he's a black-market arms dealer. Kline quickly finalized the plan and decided to meet with Caspar again tomorrow evening, aiming to fully resolve the underground ruins matter within this week. As for the true relationship between the Pound and Torday families, and for the unusual behavior of Laverne Pound—he simply didn't want to dig deeper. "None of my business!" Kline muttered, swiftly descending into the gray mist and returning to the real world. ........ Friday morning, Kline still left early, appearing extremely busy. In reality, he had once again come to Crags Club, practicing shooting and reading the newspaper, enjoying a most comfortable routine. By afternoon tea time, after having spent nearly all day there, he was ready to leave—only to unexpectedly see both his former employer, Mary Gale, and the horse-riding instructor, Talim Dumont, enter the club together. With them were many gentlemen in double-breasted formal suits and elegant ladies in stylish attire and refined makeup, among whom was a reporter from The Daily Observer, Michael Joseph. "Oh, Detective Moriaty, what a pleasant coincidence!" said Michael, who had strikingly beautiful eyes but rather rough skin, extending a friendly greeting. Klein smiled in response. At that moment, Mike seemed to remember something and turned to Mary Gale, saying, "How about we arrange a special feature interview on the current air pollution issues in Beckland and potential solutions? However, you'll need to coordinate with our managing editor in advance to confirm the space and timing." Mary's eyes lit up immediately. "That sounds great." "Thank you so much, Mike! I didn't think of that myself!" Was this a strategic move to promote and build momentum for the establishment of the 'Kingdom Air Pollution Investigation Committee'? Mike clearly has solid journalistic experience. Although The Daily Observer isn't among the top-tier newspapers, it has a substantial circulation. Mary had suddenly come here today because the several backbench MPs from the club were coming over? Indeed, the private club format is exceptionally well-suited for both political and business purposes. Klein felt a sudden clarity and then excused himself. Before becoming a Faceless Man, he didn't want to get involved in these matters so close to the upper echelons. ... In the late afternoon, within an apartment in the East District. After a busy day, Williams entered the small room where he lived, intending to change into a coat, grab some cash, head to a tavern for a good meal, and have dinner there as well. In the gloomy, dimly lit room, his movement of putting on the coat suddenly halted. He noticed a silhouette standing by the window, its face completely hidden beneath the shadow of the hood. "Who sent you to look for Larnulus?" the silhouette asked, in a low, measured tone. Williams quickly fastened his coat, swallowed a lump in his throat, and replied, "A friend of mine, a bounty hunter." Bounty hunters were adventurers whose primary income came from various rewards and assignments—there were many in the East District and in Beckland. "Why has he suddenly started seeking out Larnulus again? This was a long-standing bounty." The silhouette was very tall and stepped steadily forward until it reached Williams's presence. "I don't know—perhaps she's just trying out a different bounty," Williams retreated slightly. The silhouette, deep and resonant, asked, "Who is she?" Williams hesitated, struggling for a moment before trembling and finally answering, "Hue, Hue Ditcher—I don't know where she lives." "Good. Honest," the silhouette said, then gently tapped Williams's body before moving toward the door without further inquiry. Williams breathed a quiet sigh, feeling his extensive underworld experience had served him well. Don't force yourself when you shouldn't! At that moment, he noticed the silhouette tapped its finger sharply. *Tap!* Williams's thoughts froze; his body instantly shattered into fragments, scattering in all directions, leaving blood and flesh scattered across the floor and walls. Immediately afterward, the silhouette severed the gas line here. Among the zzzz sounds, he picked up the candle on Williams' table and ran his fingers along the wick. The shadow then withdrew, and a few minutes later, the candle suddenly lit itself! Boom! The sound of the explosion drowned everything.