Hugh had been in the bounty hunting game for a long time now, so many things required no thought at all—just instinctual responses. As soon as he saw the customer enter, who was nearly two meters tall, he instinctively lowered his head, continuing to eat his pork sausage and fries as if nothing had happened. Yet as the food reached his mouth, Hugh couldn’t taste a single flavor. He endured for several tens of seconds before slowly lifting his head, feigning casual glances around. Soon, he spotted the same customer seated at the bar, waiting for her drink and lunch. Soft, light yellow hair with gentle waves, wild brown eyes like those of a beast, a slightly drooping mouth—her quiet, aloof, even fierce demeanor—each detail settled into Hugh’s vision, gradually aligning with the image he’d formed in his mind. It was him! The very suspect! The one who had allegedly murdered Williams! Hugh once again lowered his head, slowly pushing the remaining food into his mouth. A few minutes later, she placed her plate and glass on the bar, then turned her back without looking around and walked out of the Workers' Union tavern—her boots effectively masking the most noticeable features. Outside, Hugh slowed his pace and found a quiet spot nearby, observing the people entering and leaving the tavern. After waiting a while, she finally spotted a familiar face: Burton, a technical worker in the East District employed at the East Blyth dock. This young man enjoyed a glass of mediocre rye beer at noon or in the afternoon, a beer his salary could only afford, and one he couldn't drink every day. Hugh moved swiftly toward him, gave his shoulder a pat, and whispered, "It's me, Hugh." "Hugh?" Burton studied the shorter man from behind, almost failing to recognize him as the well-known "arbiter" Hugh Dillcher of certain streets in the East District. "I have something I need to ask you." "Xiu pointed to a corner beside him. Burton was puzzled and followed. Only when they reached the hidden spot did he ask with a sudden realization: "Are you on a bounty mission?" He had heard that Xiu was also a bounty hunter. "Yes," Xiu nodded vaguely, pulling out five half-crown coins, tossing them gently, "Do you know the tall man at the inn?" "The one who's so tall, with light yellow hair, and who's always so stern?" Burton gestured. "Exactly," Xiu said, then produced a folded portrait, unfolded it, and added, "You must confirm this completely." "That's him. He's been coming here regularly over the past two or three months. I haven't seen him before. He's very demanding, rarely makes sense, and fights fiercely—better not provoke him," Burton studied the portrait carefully and offered a sincere piece of advice. Well, I just saw that man a moment ago, and it felt like encountering a wild beast when I was a child—something dangerous, not quite a match, and I had to move away immediately. Huex inhaled softly and asked, "Do you know anyone he's particularly close to?" "No, he's rather solitary, rarely speaks, and even people don't know his name. We simply gave him a nickname—'The Giant.' " Burton shook his head with a dismissive gesture. Huex thought for a moment and then asked, "Besides the tavern, where else have you seen him?" "You could ask your own friends the same question—remember, it has to be someone you truly trust." Burton recalled, "I often pass by the dock union at the East Baylant shipyard, and occasionally I see him around there. Huex, why aren't you part of the union yourself?" You are so just, yet those people not only charge us a weekly fee of one and a half sols, but whenever other dockyards go on strike and we're forced to keep our households running, they demand half our salaries! "Even that is nothing, for a good life we must support one another—yet just as they've organized their strike, they've reached an agreement with the lawyers sent by the wealthy, and our situation has not improved at all!" "Hold on. Stop." Hugh pressed down on his right palm. "Have you seen that 'giant' anywhere else?" "No, neither have my friends, for we often discuss him privately." Burton answered with conviction. Hugh said nothing further, and handed over the five copper pennies. "Would you care for a drink?" "I must not tell anyone about the matter I just asked you—this will be very dangerous." Before she had finished speaking, she turned and walked out of the corner, heading toward the dock union at the East Baring shipyard. Fifteen minutes later, she spotted the two-story yellow building. She flipped her canvas jacket inside out, revealing the patches, instantly transforming herself from a short worker into a traveler. Glancing at the several homeless people huddled at the street corner, she sniffed, then walked over and sat down with them, her eyes periodically scanning the dock union as people came and went. Time passed, and she endured the cold wind and the poor conditions, persistently observing the dock union and its surroundings. She clearly remembered Williams' steadfastness about drinking, and especially the feeling she had when she saw the newspaper that day. That feeling made her more patient than ever. At that moment, about seven or eight people emerged from the dock union and gathered together, heading toward the café across the way to have lunch. Hewas scanning each passerby carefully, taking in their features, making sure none seemed suspicious. No one stood out... Hewas about to withdraw his gaze, waiting for the next group. With a creak, the café door swung open, and a surge of warm air burst out, causing a man to remove his gold-framed glasses and wipe the mist from his sleeves. Hewas glancing casually when his gaze suddenly froze—those eyes! That smile! The constant air of mockery! Larnuus? Hewas sharply turning around, unable to look back. The man who had just entered had copper-toned skin, short, thick hair, and a distinct, sharp facial structure—very different from the portrait—yet only those eyes and that smile felt familiar. The unmistakable air of mockery. Was it Larnuus? Could it be Larnuus? Hewas burying his head, gazing fixedly at the stone pavement. ........ Summer's home. After a sumptuous lunch, the host and guests gathered in the living room to chat, agreeing to play Texas Hold'em later. Occasional anecdotes and amusing stories floated between them, and Klein maintained a smile, occasionally interjecting a few remarks, while observing the two children from the Sommer family bustling in and out. Beside him, Jurgen Cooper remained serious and composed, occasionally offering legal insights to the group's discussions. Klein smiled, slightly leaned forward, and lowered his voice to ask, "Don't you ever feel bored?" "No, their topics are quite interesting," Jurgen nodded seriously. Klein was momentarily stunned and asked aloud, "Then why don't you smile?" Jurgen furrowed his brows, looking at him in puzzlement. "Why should I smile?" "..." Klein's mouth twitched, at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. He had intended to make a joke, saying that the other person resembled his cat Brody, always so serious, but suddenly, a phantom, layered plea arose in his ears. "Women... How quickly did the 'Justice' lady find useful information based on the clues I provided?" Klein stood up, slightly inclined, and said, "I'll go to the restroom." Once inside the restroom, Klein locked the door and stepped backward four paces, entering the gray mist. His judgment was precise—the plea came from the 'Justice' lady. Klein felt a subtle tension, a blend of anticipation and gravity, spreading through his spirit as he listened to her words. After the customary title, she stated truthfully: "They found your clues at the Workers' Union tavern in the eastern section of the dock area, where you were known as 'The Giant.' By tracking the 'Giant's' movements, they discovered someone resembling Larnus at the dock union in the eastern section of the dock area, though they could not confirm it with certainty." "They were hesitant to approach Lan'luus at first, for the 'Giant' was both powerful and dangerous, and could only continue to wait for an opportunity. Once they confirmed it was Lan'luus, they asked whether they could notify the police department and claim the reward. Lan'luus has a strong and dangerous ally—does he have any others? Is there a powerful force behind him? Why the intense wave of killings? What is he plotting within the dockworkers' union? A series of questions flashed through Cline's mind, making him realize the situation was far more complex than anticipated, shrouded in mystery. As for the last request, his answer was unequivocally affirmative—he even suggested they directly inform the Church of the Night Goddess, given the possibility of leaks within the police department. Having the night watch of the Goddess's Church execute Lan'luus would also count as a form of vengeance!" Klein murmured silently, with a strong urge to immediately verify whether that person was Lan'uruis, lest the wait grow too long and introduce unforeseen changes. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and unfastened the pendulum from his sleeve. "Check with the Dockside Guild whether Lan'uruis is in danger." After silently reciting this seven times, Klein opened his eyes and looked at the amber pendant, only to find it motionless, completely still. The divination had failed? His brow furrowed immediately. He tried different phrases and altered his method, but the result remained the same. After careful reflection, he identified three reasons: first, insufficient information prevented the divination; second, the Dockside Guild had no Lan'uruis at all, making the divination impossible to establish; third, Lan'uruis was like Inz. Zangweil—possessing an object capable of shielding divination. The object that shields divination... had he gained this benefit from the divine ritual of the divine child? A fragment of divinity from "The True Maker"? Klein pondered for a few seconds, then decided that no matter what, he had to go and pay a visit to the Dock Workers' Union. There are things you know are risky, yet still have to do! The two women can observe quietly without being noticed—so can I. All I need is to meet with Lan'urus face to face, and then use divination to confirm... Of course, this can't be done haphazardly. I must prepare in advance—such as sending the "Eye of All Black" to the Gray Mists, not carrying it with me, to prevent the spirit of the "True Maker" from resonating with its divinity; such as raising myself slightly, so that the "Giant" can't recognize me as the one who passed by last night; such as finding a suitable, solid, unremarkable reason—ah, I could pose as a journalist for an interview. I'll borrow Michael Joseph's fake press credentials right away. Klein's lips slowly curled into a smile, and with spiritual awareness enveloping him, he settled back into the reality world.