Inside the deep, shadowy underground structure, Caine carried a lantern, circled the hall carefully, and meticulously checked for any additional entrances—though he dared not enter the corridor leading to the innermost room, and the newly gathered snake crowd had once again been driven away by the biting cold wind. After confirming there were no hidden passages, he stepped back to the entrance, joining the three living corpses as they watched the guard girl, Sharon, place explosives at various points. "Very professional," Caine murmured softly. The three corpses, however, remained entirely silent. This was no surprise, as Caine had consistently shielded himself from the adverse effects of the ancient, finely crafted Azk copper whistle; otherwise, he would have faced an unusually enthusiastic "response." He had originally intended not to bring the whistle along, but in order to guard against the subtle machinations of malevolent spirits, he had had to make a small sacrifice of his spiritual energy. "Miss Bodyguard, no—Miss Sharon says she's a explosives expert, and honestly, she's not exaggerating..." "Was she always in this field, or did some particular path or sequence within her path endow her with expertise in such areas? Based on the materials I've reviewed while serving in the Night Watch team, there are roughly these sequences: Sequence 9 includes 'Criminals,' 'Prisoners,' 'Warriors,' and 'Hunters'; Sequence 8 features 'Law Enforcers'; and Sequence 7 has the 'Weapon Masters' and the 'Keepers of Knowledge'—the latter is known by the nickname 'Detective,' belonging to the Church of the Gods of Knowledge and Wisdom. I'm not entirely clear about the others..." "I'm not sure which path Miss Sharon belongs to—she doesn't seem to fit any of them particularly. In fact, she's demonstrated the ability to command the living corpses this time..." While Klein drifted off into endless speculations, Sharon completed the arrangements and casually lit the fuse. Casually? Lit? Wait a minute—why didn't she say anything beforehand! Only now did Klein snap back to attention, startled, and hurriedly stepped out of the hall into And the three undead followed steadily behind him. "It's safe here," Sharon suddenly appeared beside him. Klein exhaled slightly, then asked, "Will there be dust disturbed?" "Yes," Sharon replied with a single word. "Good," he said, stepping back at the same time. The hissing sound of the fuse burning reached his ears, causing a mild irritation. This unease wasn't due to fear of the impending explosion, but because one boot remained suspended in the air. "Number one," Sharon suddenly said. "Oh?" Klein didn't immediately grasp her meaning. Boom! Boom! The ground shook violently, and a sudden rush of dust fell from above. Klein's ears rang with the noise, and for a brief moment, he could barely hear anything else. Had he not been the Clown, he would have lost his balance and fallen to the ground. Cough. Cough. Cough. He coughed, having been distracted and unprepared, as large stones and earth fell rapidly ahead, instantly sealing off the entrance. Amid the lingering tremors, Caine clutched the bronze whistle given him by Mr. Azk, observing its response. Though he had previously consulted the oracle and received a favorable prognosis indicating no significant danger, the presence of six fully realized divine statues—no matter how the revelation had been received in the gray mist—made him hesitate. Even the interpretation itself might be flawed. Thus, he carefully used the bronze whistle to determine whether the malevolent spirits had been freed by the upheaval. The whistle remained cool yet gentle, showing no unusual changes, and Caine felt completely reassured. He turned to the undead beside him, and in their eyes, he confirmed one truth: he was now thoroughly disheveled. That's perfect—it aligns exactly with my explanation I'll give to Mr. Miller Carter later... no waste of the thoughtfulness I took in changing my clothes just for this occasion. He walked toward the entrance, confirming it was now completely sealed. Indeed, without causing a major commotion, only the "apprentices" and exceptional individuals like Miss Sharon would be able to enter in the future; she had eliminated so many potential competitors, which is why it's free. Klein gazed at the stones and earth, silently murmuring his appreciation. Of course, I could also qualify—I possess a similar ethereal state! He quietly added this thought to himself with a smile, yet remained composed on the surface. "Time to wrap up," Klein dramatically tapped his finger, leading the three living corpses hurriedly and anxiously back toward the house's basement, while Sharon had already vanished without anyone noticing. In the spacious basement, Mr. Miller Carter paced anxiously back and forth, occasionally glancing toward the sealed door. Upon seeing Moriarty the detective and his assistant emerge in full formation, he immediately exhaled a long, relieved breath and asked urgently, "What happened inside?" Cain deliberately drew in a breath, saying, "That underground structure is quite old—long overdue for renovation. We were originally clearing out snakes, but just by moving slightly, we triggered a severe collapse, a complete one. Fortunately, we were close to the entrance and managed to escape in time." "By the storm!" Miller Carter exclaimed, clenching his fist against his left chest. "Yes," Cain replied, "only a few ancient buildings are preserved intact; the rest have crumbled over time in the river of history. I'll show you in. Let's verify the situation." "Is there any further collapse?" Miller asked cautiously. "No," Cain said, "this section is quite solid." Klein deliberately brushed dust off his clothes, coughed twice, and then led the client through a tour of the building, stopping at the completely blocked entrance, where the walls near the hall had also collapsed, leaving behind stone and earth. "You can use this section," he pointed to the corridor area. Miller paused for a few seconds, then remarked, "Thank goodness I didn't send people in prematurely; I had you, a professional, instead. Otherwise, I'd be responsible for several lives lost." "That concludes this assignment," he said, "and here's the remaining payment." As he spoke, Miller reached for his wallet, counted the cash, and felt a bit embarrassed to find only a few dozen pounds. "Good thing I still have some other funds," he mumbled, looking up at Klein, "would you mind accepting gold coins instead?" "Not at all," Klein smiled. The gold pounds of the Kingdom of Rouen are not only large-denomination banknotes but also actual gold coins, which serves as the guarantee for the note's face value. However, over the past hundred years since the reign of Emperor Roserel, the people of the northern continent have grown increasingly accustomed to paper money, to the point where some members of parliament have even proposed that copper pennies be issued in corresponding banknote form. Genuine gold pounds are now rarely seen in daily circulation, with only certain traditional gentlemen choosing to attach a dedicated box to the other end of their watch chains, containing a reserve of gold coins for contingencies. This is both a sense of security and a matter of habit. Miller nodded, following the golden chain on the gentleman's clothing, and withdrew a gleaming box from one of his pockets. With a crisp sound, he opened the box, removed five gold coins, and placed them beside the banknotes he had counted earlier, handing them to the detective. The detective accepted them without hesitation, counted them carefully, then suddenly launched one coin upward with a graceful motion, catching it effortlessly in his palm. "Thank you for your generosity." He glanced at the portrait above, smiled genuinely, then placed his hand on his chest and bowed respectfully to Miller Carter. Well, if it were any other detective, even if the entrance and corridors were completely collapsed right now, upon returning home, he'd surely end up with nightmares, hearing strange sounds, feeling mentally drained, and constantly sensing someone watching him—signs of a lingering ghostly presence that would take a long time to fade away. But we're different. Miss Sharon herself is as much like a ghost as anyone. As long as I make a trip to the misty heights, I'm good to go. As for those three living corpses—they're already fearless in death, so what could they possibly fear? Clary chuckled a few remarks about his good spirits, then said goodbye to Miller Carter and turned to leave the house. On the street, the three living corpses moved off without a word, heading in a different direction. Sharon had gone... and yet, not a single cent for the hired corpses. Clary smiled, raised his arm, and waved gently at their backs. Later, he returned home, changed into ordinary clothes, and went to the Crag Club to practice shooting. After having a dinner meal as a reward for the successful completion of the mission, Caine took a public carriage back to Minsk Street. The overcast, dim environment was illuminated by a series of gas streetlamps, and he strolled along the sidewalk, holding his cane with a relaxed pace. Suddenly, he felt a sense that was neither entirely favorable nor entirely unfavorable. What was going on? Caine looked up and saw two officers approaching with a police dog, conducting a routine check along the way. A check with a police dog? That had to be related to the ongoing series of murders. The crime scenes had left behind the scent of violets and blackberries—so they’d sent out the dogs? Caine couldn’t help muttering under his breath. The history of police dogs dates back to the Roxel period, but their numbers have always been limited. Considering the various items he was carrying and the earlier feeling of unease, Caine decided to take a different route and walk from the other side. Just then, the two officers spotted him and signaled for him to stop. Klein drew a slight smile, standing patiently in place. "Routine investigation," said one officer, approaching and presenting his badge. "Good..." Klein had barely finished speaking when the police dog suddenly barked, wagging its tail vigorously at him. Was it detecting the gunpowder scent on me? The leftover powder from my afternoon shooting practice? Klein instantly realized, glanced at the officers' alert expressions, and smiled warmly, saying, "Actually, I picked up a revolver on the way, along with a shoulder holster and some ammunition, and was just planning to hand it over to you." He slowly produced the revolver, raised it gently to shoulder level, and spoke seriously with a sincere smile, "Officer, I truly wasn't carrying it illegally." One officer remained on high alert, while another took over the gun, spoke seriously: "You'll have to come back to the station with us." "Of course," replied Kline with a bright smile. "But I do have a request—please inform my lawyer, Mr. Jürgen Cooper, that I will only consent to a search if he is present."