In the dimly lit sewer, Caine wiped his neck and refocused on Lan'urus's shattered head and lifeless body, on the two Tarot cards inserted into the man's eyes. He had originally intended to retrieve all the "darts" he'd thrown, erasing the corresponding clues—but he now faced a very practical and serious issue: he lacked dark vision. It was his spiritual sight that enabled him to navigate the pitch-black sewer and fight fiercely against Lan'urus. He could perceive the colors of Lan'urus's aura, detect the ethereal glimmers of various living beings, and sense where they "lit up," thus guiding his path. Unfortunately, the Tarot cards he was now using were not the original set from the Night Watch team. They lacked the spiritual silver veins and were plain, unremarkable, and ordinary. Under these circumstances, Caine could discern the outlines of objects within a small radius around him using his own aura's color and spiritual radiance, yet he could not see the playing cards pinned to the walls and scattered throughout the area—objects that had been placed there—when viewed from a distance. Earlier, he and Larnuus had fought fiercely, not confined to a single location. Of course, he believed that, given sufficient time, retrieving and reassembling the tarot cards would not be particularly difficult. The real issue, however, was that the night watchmen pursuing Larnuus and the military personnel aboard the airship might arrive any moment! I can't afford to be careless about this... I've been wearing gloves the entire time... This tarot deck was purchased before I came to Beckland, part of the nationwide standard model... I've rarely used it... Even when I carry it, most of the time it's kept alongside Mr. Azk's brass whistle... No matter what, it's difficult to pinpoint my exact location through either of them—best I can do is reconstruct parts of the battle scenes, with my face masked and my shoes elevated... Ideas flashed through Klein instantly, and he quickly made up his mind. He turned toward Lan'urus's lifeless body, knelt down, and extended his right hand, gloved in black, swiftly searching for any items left behind on the body. — Kline had no intention of performing an invocation ritual. First, the profound sense of divine descent he'd previously experienced left a lasting impression, making him hesitant to initiate a ritual with Lan'urus unless he could bring the spirit to the Gray Mists. Second, given that the Watchers and military personnel might arrive at any moment, he didn't feel he had sufficient time to prepare the ritual—time to summon himself, respond to himself, and then journey to the Gray Mists. He simply decided to let go. Kline murmured this silently to himself, withdrawing his hand from Lan'urus's body. The frantic fraudster had fled with remarkable urgency, leaving behind no cash, no materials, no talismans—only a badge the size of a human eye, gently glowing with a delicate, ethereal radiance. Kline didn't fear that the badge would be tracked, as he intended to leave it in the Gray Mists to study it gradually. As he straightened up, he slipped the badge into his coat pocket. He glanced at the body of Lan'urus, didn't wait for the extraordinary properties to manifest, and with his left hand wearing black gloves, reached for the remaining Tarot cards. Then, he extended his left arm, positioning his palm directly above the body. Suddenly, Caine released his palm, allowing the Tarot cards to fall in a rustling cascade, like leaves, covering the lifeless, headless body—some with their illustrations and numbers facing up, others with dark red backs bearing faint patterns. After this, Caine produced the Aztec copper whistle, tossed it a few times, and then turned without looking back, racing toward the depths of the sewer. Nearly two minutes later, a procession of figures finally arrived—some in thick black coats, others in well-designed, neatly tailored uniforms resembling military attire. Leading them was Cryste Sessima, holding a pure white bone sword; his red gloves were dusted with dirt, and his resolute face bore clear signs of fatigue and frailty. They stopped several meters away from the body, using their night vision to see Lan'urus's corpse and the head resting against the wall. The head was pierced by two tarot cards: one of the "Emperor" and one of the "Wheel of Fortune." The body, now headless, was covered in additional cards—depicting the "Carriage of the Winner," the "Wise Man in a Robe with a Lamp," the "Death on a White Horse in Armor," and several cups and staff numbered cards. Along the walls and floor, other tarot cards—such as the "Devil," "Sun," and "Judgment"—were either inserted or lying prostrate. The scene appeared as though a strange ritual had just taken place, with Lan'urus clearly the sacrificial offering. Crysta Sessima inhaled silently, her brow furrowed tightly. The other extraordinary beings around him were momentarily stunned by the eerie, mysterious tableau in the darkness. … After distancing himself from the scene of Lanerous's death, Caine swiftly found an exit, removed his clown mask, and strode eastward under the shade of the gas streetlamps. In the meantime, he had already cleaned the stains on his shoes. Only upon entering the East District and reaching Black Palms Street did he finally feel a sense of relief. There, in his one-bedroom rental apartment, he quickly performed a ritual of summoning himself and responding to himself. In his ethereal state, Caine carried the full set of garments he had worn that evening, the remaining talismans, herbs, and essential oils, along with the badge he had received from Lanerous, to the gray mist, where he burned them with spiritual flame, erasing the corresponding traces. Exhaling deeply, he finally found a moment to gaze at the badge he had received from Lanerous. The badge was the size of a human eye, featuring a symbolic motif of fate and concealment on the front, and a compact, finely inscribed ancient Hermes script on the back: "Whosoever holds this shall be admitted." "What does that mean? Is Lan'urus still a member of some secret organization? Kline rubbed his temple. Already exhausted, both mentally and physically, and with an unsuitable timing, he made a decisive decision to set aside his investigation for now and return to it after the Tarot gathering. He quickly left the mysterious space of Hui Wu Shang, donning a fresh set of clothes and shedding his previous disguise. Yet he didn't immediately head back to Minsk Street. He intended to sleep until the next morning, since street activity after dawn naturally drew attention, and given the recent incident just now. Lying on the bed, Kline gazed out the window at the night sky as the moonlight gradually faded, his mind settling into calm. After completing his initial acts of vengeance, he felt a significant relief, as though he had shed a heavy burden, released long-held tensions, and his mental state had noticeably improved compared to the earlier period. "Ins. Zangwei and the sealed object '0—08' are neither within the current capabilities of me to handle, and the gap between us is immense—only when I become a high-tier strong entity, a being half-divine and half-human, will I be qualified to step into this matter. Before I reach Sequence 4, I will simply pretend they don't exist." "Indeed, my long-term goal is to steadily enhance myself. I've now fully absorbed the 'Clown' potion, and once I gather the exceptional materials, I'll be able to advance to the rank of 'Magician.'" "Beyond that, there's 'The Faceless,' 'The Master of Hidden Figures,' and the corresponding Sequence 4 entity whose name I haven't yet learned." "Besides, I'll simply remain a normal detective." Kaine's mind was calm and composed, his thoughts drifting freely toward his plans for the near future, no longer restless, no longer constrained. As he thought about it, a slight smile played at the corner of his mouth, and he murmured softly to himself: "Captain, Benson, Melissa, I'm sure you'd prefer to see me like this now..." The first patient was a middle-aged man with a full beard, extremely anxious, asking endless questions, afraid that a single bottle of medicine would not be sufficient to combat that severe infectious disease. Only when the doctors grew impatient did he lift his head and take a deep, steady swallow of the bottle containing a vivid blue liquid. Then he was helped to a nearby position, his mouth brought close to a hole of exactly the same size. He retched! He retched! He retched! Suddenly overcome with nausea, he violently vomited, expelling a mass of sour, blood-streaked matter. As he tried to half-support himself to peer at what he had expelled, two strong nurses forcibly pushed him aside. The mouth-sized opening was set on a dark metallic barrel, its base dim and shadowed, barely illuminated. There, quietly resting, was a pool of yellow-green liquid, at its center a small piece of blood-stained flesh, densely covered with fine black hairs! He retched! He retched! He retched! One after another, patients received the medicine and, at various metal barrels, vomited in painful distress. ……… In the luxurious manor of the Countess of Queens. “Why have you come so early?” Audrey glanced out the window at the sky, then at the Viscount Grelint before her. Grelint surveyed the room and noticed only a golden retriever crouched by the side. He lowered his voice slightly. “I was originally planning to go to the racetrack, but on the way I met with Constance. She told me something very interesting—truly fascinating. Since I was passing by here, I thought it would be a good opportunity to share it with you.” “What was it?” Audrey asked with genuine interest. Grelint didn’t pause to refine his words. “You’ve probably heard of the Aurora Circle—the one that carried out the assassination of the Ambassador Indis. They were captured, several key members were killed, and as a result, a major plot fell through.” "I thought it was something about the divine nature of the 'True Creator' God—so they had already informed someone yesterday evening, and the night was just perfect for action... Wait, isn't it the case that the Aurora people actually worship the 'True Creator'? Audrey's eyes lit up, and with a composed tone, she asked, "What plans are they pursuing?" "I don't know, Constance won't say. He only told me that the person in charge of these plans was a former fugitive fraud named Lanerous." Grelint spread out his right palm. Indeed... Audrey gave a barely perceptible nod, her curiosity evident as she asked, "Has he been captured?" "He died, but not at the hands of ours." Grelint paused. "That's what I find particularly interesting—the body was discovered covered in numerous Tarot cards, and so were the surroundings. Imagine the scene..." Tarot cards? The body covered in so many Tarot cards? Audrey was first startled, then suddenly enlightened: This is what our Tarot Circle has done! This is the work of the Sir Fool's devoted followers! PS: A book recommendation—by an old traditional Chinese physician, no, a gynecological master, no, those were his earlier careers; now he is the author. The book is titled *Ghosts Ahead*. Introduction: This world is inhabited by spirits and gods. But now, the gods have all passed away!