After dinner, at the "The Brave" bar, in the billiards room. Kline wore a simple black jacket that matched the room's ambiance, wearing a dark baseball cap, holding a glass of South Wiltshire beer, and casually closing the door as he walked over to face Kasparas, who was bending forward, testing his shot. Before Kline could offer a smile and greet him, Kasparas had already stopped, straightened up, and glanced at him. "Mariani isn't here." "No additional gathering of the kind you'd be looking for." "Besides weapons, I have nothing." ...Quite familiar routine... Fortunately, my purpose today is different. Kline gave a slight smile. "I'm here to buy weapons." "Marich is once again gone... It seems this outpost has been exposed, and with his enemies now on the watch, he's simply moved on. Then I can't reach my bodyguard anymore... And the undead I planned to use to impress Miller Carter's aides—loyal, discreet, and unafraid of death—well, that depends on the spiritual shielding neutralizing the effect of Azk's copper whistle. As I speak, a series of thoughts flash through Caine's mind. I won't let my customers challenge the Westvillas! Of course, you're under no obligation to buy from me." To have thrived as a black-market arms dealer and survive this long, one has to be somewhat disciplined—at least, not sell to those wildly erratic types... Kline offered his assessment from the perspective of a Watcher, with a smile. "I think you've misunderstood something. I don't intend to blow up the bank's vault or create a major news sensation. My goal is simply to carry out structural demolition so that future renovations can proceed smoothly." "Then why hasn't he hired a conventional construction firm?" Caspar remained vigilant. "Ah, that's a sealed room—he doesn't want anyone else to know about it." Kline then asked, "Do you know any reliable explosive specialists? I'm not particularly skilled in this area; I'm afraid I might collapse the entire building." Seeing that Kline still cared about preserving the structure, Caspar's lingering doubts began to fade. As克莱恩 was still considering his reply, a faint, ethereal voice suddenly echoed through the room: "No, it's not necessary." A familiar sensation surged through him, and he hurried to turn around, only to find the bodyguard had already taken a seat in the chair by the corner. She still wore her black Gothic court gown, a delicate, matching soft hat, her face as always pale, her light golden hair and refined features enhancing each other. "Good evening, madam,"克莱恩 bowed slightly, offering a courtesy. "Good evening, Miss Sharon," Caspar replied, doing the same. Her name was Sharon—克莱恩 thoughtfully waited for her to speak. Yet, the bodyguard named Sharon turned to Caspar and said, "Marich will not be coming back here after this." "If you need to reach him, simply leave a message according to the third method we agreed upon." "Understood, Miss Sharon." The older man, Kasparas, clearly someone who's seen his fair share of storms, seems to have an instinctive fear of the bodyguard. Hearing this, Caine interjected: "If I may, if I really want to reach out to Marič, how should I contact him?" "Find Kasparas," Sharon replied simply. "Alright," Caine shrugged, nodding. "By the way, what exactly do you mean when you say we don't need a demolition specialist?" Sharon's blue eyes remained utterly still: "I am." You are? You're the demolition specialist? Wait—aren't you a special-ability holder, perhaps at level five or so? How come you're also doing demolition work? Caine paused, completely at a loss for words. In the end, he decided to trust Sharon and said carefully: "I've visited..." He glanced toward Kasparas, indicating that the topic he was about to discuss wasn't suitable for a regular person. In essence, black-market arms dealers are indeed ordinary people... Cain quietly added. Sarlen turned to Caspary and said, "You go prepare the explosives." "At two pounds." "He'll pay." "Yes, Madam Sarlen." Caspary glanced at Cain, limped out of the billiards room, and didn't forget to close the door behind him. Seeing the maid simply staring at him without speaking, Cain felt as though he were being watched by a ghost, and quickly organized his words: "I've found Lord Pound's address and visited him at midnight..." He then recounted Lavt Pound's words verbatim before beginning his reasoning—working backward from the outcome: "I believe he has been lying in several places. A viscount family couldn't have been quietly controlled so easily." "Even a child could detect the irregularities—how could the royal family and the church have failed to notice?" "After Laverne Ponde's fall, he's had countless opportunities to interact with outsiders and other nobles. With just a bit of courage, he could easily resolve any issues." "So I believe he's been concealing certain matters—matters likely tied to that underground structure." "Given his current condition, the entity suspected to be a malevolent spirit has remained trapped for a long time. Therefore, I plan to bring in some explosives to seal off the entrance, preventing others from entering—well, I'm afraid they might accidentally release the spirit." "Hmm." Miss Sharon, the bodyguard, neither fully endorsed nor rejected Caine's proposal. At this point, Caine hesitated and asked: "I'm not particularly skilled in demolition work, so I'll prepare a layout plan and request that the explosives expert determine the exact placement and quantity of charges. If, if, I need you to assist again, how much would I need to pay?" "If it's too expensive, I'd rather go with a regular explosives specialist. After all, my contract is only fifty pounds, while the bodyguard is charging a thousand for three days... Kline has already prepared a contingency plan." "Free." Sharon's response remained concise, as always. Free? Kline was instantly taken aback. In his experience, free was always the most expensive option! Sharon sat quietly, pausing a few seconds before offering a brief explanation: "After the entrance is destroyed, only I will be able to enter and exit." "That's exactly what I intend to achieve." So you're planning to remove the spirits with confidence and secure the items inside? Destroying the exit is actually helping eliminate distractions and potential rivals—after all, other非凡 beings can't pass through the stone and earth like spirits can... except for the "Apprentice" path, who simply aren't aware of the underground structure. Kline nodded thoughtfully. "Deal!" After that, he hurried to add, "Um... borrow a few more people from Marič, someone with a strict mouth—these will be the people you present to Miller Carter." "Alright," Sharon didn't hesitate. Deliberately omitting mention of the compensation,克莱恩 smiled and said, "Then ten o'clock tomorrow morning." "We need to survey the surrounding terrain in advance so that the blast doesn't cause noticeable damage," Sharon nodded gently, her figure gradually fading until she disappeared. ........ On a Saturday morning, Hugh Dillchar again took the public carriage to the eastern district to periodically check on the progress of his commission. While waiting to transfer, she suddenly felt a strong urge to buy a newspaper and take a look. She pulled out a one-penny coin and purchased a copy of The Beckland Post from the newsboy beside her, flipping through it quickly. Suddenly, her gaze froze. A news item from the third edition: "Local report: At 7:10 p.m. yesterday, a severe explosion occurred at Apartment No. 6, Floor 3, at No. 1 Dharavi Street in the East District, reportedly caused by a gas leak. The tenant in the affected room died on the spot, with no complete body found. By midnight, the explosion had claimed three lives and injured sixteen people..." Dharavi Street No. 1... Apartment 3, Room 6... Wasn't this William's residence? Had he died? From an explosion caused by a gas leak? No, no! Absolutely not! He never used gas extravagantly—despite its installation. He had just accepted my commission. Could this be the reason? Yet, Lan'urus himself was a wanted fugitive. Once someone started looking for him, simply relocating would have been sufficient to protect his secrets—killing people would only have risked exposing the situation. The way this matter was handled was strangely radical, almost mad. After all, he was merely a fraud. How pitiful William was! I, I will surely avenge you! I will uncover the truth! With a steady, solemn gaze, she watched the public horse carriage standing before her, refusing to board. She knew that going to the East District would be extremely dangerous at this moment. She intended to return immediately and inform Furse to temporarily move into the backup rental house, while she herself would disguise herself and enter the East District, seeking out acquaintances to gather initial information and clarify the situation, and carefully trace the clues left behind by the murderer. Well, Audrey's commission truly hasn't been without danger... I thought he was already a fugitive fraudster—so long as I didn't corner him or force him to run, he wouldn't mount any fierce resistance. It was my oversight—I'm responsible for Williamms' death. Perhaps he's also gathering information on other matters, which might have brought him misfortune. Closing his eyes, he crossed the street and walked toward the waiting point on the opposite side. ........ 10:14, Klein and his bodyguard, Sharon, confirmed the surface conditions corresponding to the fourth-period building and arrived at the exterior of the house at 8 Williams Street. Sharon had vanished, and Miller Carter now saw Sherlock Moriaty, the detective, in a gray-blue worker's uniform with a baseball cap, along with three silent, broad-shouldered assistants. "This arrangement makes exploration easier," Klein explained. Miller Cart's gaze swept over the three assistants, who looked clearly capable, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Your preparations have moved faster than I expected. Among them, is there a snake specialist?" "Yes, they're all exceptionally skilled in snake handling." Kline responded without hesitation. How could the undead fear being bitten by a snake?