Audrey, who believed she had uncovered the truth, found herself vividly imagining the scene as described by Viscount Glarent: Larnuus lying in darkness, amidst mud, covered by one tarot card after another—the Fool, Justice, The Hanged Man, The Sun, The World, along with other major arcs and numerous numbered cards, some reversed, some upright, others still half-unfolded, revealing only their backs—like a grand, eerie tarot reading was unfolding. How astonishing such a scene must have been! She wondered where the card of Justice would ultimately settle. How would the extraordinary agents of MI9 and the Church perceive this? Might they begin to suspect the emergence of a new, hidden organization? Lan'Ulus embodies the divine essence of "The True Creator." The plans he and the Aurora Circle have forged must surely be of great significance—should they succeed, they would bring a catastrophic disaster to Beckland and the kingdom itself. Yet such a grand scheme is so effortlessly, so unremarkably, halted by a simple task issued by the "Knight of the Fool"! Is this what divine-level strategy looks like? Are the "Knight of the Fool" and "The True Creator" mortal enemies? It's no wonder He refers to the other as "The Fallen Creator"... Thoughts surged rapidly through Odile's mind, and her body subtly trembled, though barely perceptible. "What are you thinking about?" the Viscount Grelint, seated across from her, finally could no longer contain his curiosity and asked. Odile snapped back to awareness, tilted her head slightly, and smiled. "Didn't you ask me to imagine the scene where corpses are completely covered by Tarot cards?" "Ah, yes." "Glelindt gave a slightly awkward smile and remarked, 'I have no idea which secret order member killed Larnuus—quite simply, it's exactly as I'd imagined such an event unfolding. Truly, so cool!' It was our Tarot Circle, Audrey replied quietly, with a gentle smile. 'Perhaps, though, it was simply a powerful individual acting independently, without any organization?' 'Either way, I love this style! You go and urge Tho and Forse, ask them when my "pharmacist's" formula will be ready,' Glelindt said, clearly excited. Audrey slightly widened her eyes, glanced around, and whispered, 'Hush, quietly.' 'How could you possibly speak about the details of the potion recipe here?' Glelindt chuckled lightly, unconcerned, 'Don't worry—this isn't anything special. I just confirmed it a moment ago: here, besides you and me, there's only one dog.' The golden retriever, Suzy, unconsciously shifted her sitting posture. ……… In a room beneath St. Samuel's Church in the northern district of Beckett. Dailie, dressed in a black cloak with a hood, her eyes accented with blue eyeshadow and blush, exuded an otherworldly, cool elegance as she casually settled into a seat and picked up the documents on the table. She scanned them quickly, then her gaze froze, her brows furrowing as she asked, suppressing emotion: "Langurus? Why didn't I know about this? Why wasn't I informed of last night's operations?" Cresta Cessima, seated at the head of the table and once again tucking her chin and lips beneath the vertical collar of her robe, spoke softly: "I was concerned you might not be able to control your emotions—this could have created unforeseen complications, so I chose not to inform you." "I completely understand your feelings. There's a night watcher from the Tinggen team currently undergoing guidance and training at the Hall, preparing to join the 'Red Glove.' His performance is comparable to yours, but as the lead operative and a senior steward of the night watch, I must eliminate any unstable factors." Daili glanced at the other night watch team leaders and stewards who had been summoned, and exhaled, "Why do you think I wouldn't be able to control my emotions? I'm calm. I never act impulsively!" "My anger will only erupt once Lan'urus is captured! This is the caliber of a seasoned night watcher—exactly what a steward should embody!" "If I capture Lan'urus, I'll make him understand that men are just as vulnerable! I'll have a cold, decaying corpse stiffened behind his back, a bone full of thorns and foul odors in front of him, and I'll have those cold little creatures moving in and out of every opening on his body!" "For heaven's sake! You just let him die like that!" Kreshta Cessima gazed calmly at Dailie, silently listening to her words before finally exhaling. "How long have you endured?" Dailie paused, then suddenly fell into a state of despondency, like a deflated ball, murmuring softly, "For a very long time..." Cessima turned her gaze to the other stewards and the team captain. "What have you learned?" "We've initially confirmed that the member of the Monastery who killed Larnuus holds the rank of Sequence 8, is known as 'The Clown,' and specializes in throwing darts made from playing cards." "A deacon reported accurately," said one, "though we cannot be certain about this hypothesis. The tarot cards scattered over the body do not appear to be concealing anything—after all, the extraordinary one did not simultaneously attend to the cards pinned to the wall and those inserted into Larnus's head. We believe the final scene more closely resembles a ritual or a symbolic gesture. Therefore, we suspect that the extraordinary one may belong to an organization we have yet to understand. Of course, it might also simply be a personal habit of his." Cécile nodded slightly: "We should pursue this line of inquiry further." "El, what have you found in your investigation of the accuser?" The well-dressed, middle-aged man, El Hassen, flipped through the papers. "We investigated the accuser and found that his actions were instigated by a bounty hunter." "During the pursuit of the fugitive Lan'urus, the companion of the bounty hunter was killed by a member of the Aurora Guild. To avenge this, she quietly investigated and ultimately identified her target at the Workers' Union tavern in the East Baylant shipyard, tracing Lan'urus's movements to uncover his whereabouts." "Her actions were consistently corroborated by witnesses and appeared entirely plausible. Using extraordinary means, we also confirmed that she had no connection with the person who killed Lan'urus." "She has now gone into hiding and is difficult to locate." Cecima added thoughtfully: "This aligns well with Lan'urus's description—radical and frenzied members of the Aurora Guild saw his escape as a form of assistance." "Was there any issue with the journalist who visited the Workers' Association that afternoon?" "Another night watch team leader reported: 'He's a fake journalist. Information from the police indicates he's actually a private investigator who previously assisted Daily Observer reporter Mike Joseph in investigating the murder of Siebel. We suspect he uncovered a lead that led him to the dock workers' union, so he posed as a journalist to meet with each suspected suspect.' 'That hypothesis has now been confirmed by Eisinger Stanton.' Cecilia nodded, then turned to inquire about others who had recently interacted with Larnus, receiving consistent reassurances in response. As the conversation drew to a close, he paused thoughtfully: 'The lack of a clear motive behind Larnus's murder is particularly puzzling. This mysterious killer deserves our continued attention. Keep pursuing this matter.' "Moreover, by common sense, in a metropolis like Bekland, there will surely be exceptional beings beyond just the 'Rose Bishop' and 'Hermit' levels—there will be at least a Divine Messenger, and possibly even a Saint." "Their plans to welcome the 'True Creator' have failed. Given their usual frenzy and irrationality, I suspect they will launch a series of retaliatory actions. You must remain highly vigilant in the coming weeks, and I will stay in Bekland." "Yes, Excellency." The stewards and squad leaders responded seriously. Kreshta Cesium paused for a moment, then added: "The Meigouss incident in Tinggen and the events in Lan'urus last night both point to one issue—the industrial district, the port district, and the eastern sector have become fertile ground for the Demigods' descent and incubation. Dispatch personnel to investigate and gather the most accurate information." "If it indeed matches Lan'uris's description, I will raise this matter at the Cardinal's meeting, formally pressuring the kingdom and the government to drive the necessary reforms into action as swiftly as possible." ... Klein slept late but still woke to a dim light, the morning still veiled in a soft fog—dark and damp and cold. This didn't match the brightness I was feeling... he murmured, changed into his clothes, took his keys, and returned to Minsk Street without drawing much attention. Only after switching from his work uniform to a comfortable shirt and sweater and confirming that no one had come to investigate him as a private detective did he feel truly at ease. Then he strolled leisurely to the butcher and grocery store to buy food, preparing himself a sumptuous lunch. By afternoon, Beckland had begun to receive sunlight, and Klein lounged in the sun, feeling utterly relaxed and content, as if nothing at all needed to be done. It wasn't until 2:45 that he checked his gold-case pocket watch, returned to his bedroom, and stepped into the gray mist. Materializing the figure of "The World," after refreshing his operational skills, he settled into the high-backed chair at the head of the table and sent a message to his "Sun" colleague, indicating his readiness to attend the gathering. At exactly 3:00 in Beckland time, deep crimson glows rose within the magnificent and ancient palace, outlining similarly indistinct forms. "Justice" Audrey looked directly toward the head of the table and spoke with brisk energy: "Good afternoon, Mr. The Fool." "The simple task you commissioned has been completed." She emphasized the word "simple" deliberately, hoping to confirm with Mr. The Fool whether Larnuus had indeed been eliminated by Him—whether the scene of death, filled with tarot cards, was emblematic of the Tarot Order's signature motif. Klein smiled with composed calm: "I already know." "With that, he sighed calmly: 'This era, this Beckland, this East District, the Port District, and the Industrial District—what a fertile ground for the gods of chaos to descend!' What? Aljer, the 'Hanged Man,' paused, momentarily unsure if he had suddenly gone deaf. How could a simple task be connected to such divine upheaval?