In Audrey’s mind, there has always been an underlying perception: the seven-colored lizard dragon equals its pituitary gland, a remarkable material—about the size of a palm, soft to the touch with a textured, undulating surface, constantly shifting in color. So, what is the connection between this magnificent creature standing before her—three meters long and nearly knee-high? For a moment, she was momentarily bewildered. It was only when she heard Suzy’s call that she regained her composure and addressed the butler with a composed air: “This is exactly the specimen I needed.” “Yes… just a bit larger than I expected, a little bit larger.” “Have your servants move them to the storage warehouse. I’ll study them when I have time.” “Yes, madam!” The butler immediately instructed the male servants who had been quietly observing the mistress. Audrey glanced around, said nothing further, and led Suzy into the study of the main house, excusing herself by saying she needed to focus on writing her reply to her brother, thus leaving all the female servants outside. Once dissected, there were two pituitary glands from seven-colored iguanas...one of which could be exchanged for the Farsman rabbit's spinal fluid, precisely enough to prepare a bottle of "Mind-Reader" potion...Odile gradually regained her composure from the earlier shock and bewilderment, beginning to think about how to advance Suzy's position. At that moment, she realized a serious issue: she didn't know whether Suzy had fully digested the potion. If the potion hadn't been completely absorbed, it would easily cause a loss of control—something Suzy couldn't endure. She wasn't human; she could hold on, could endure. In fact, it was the very first time Suzy had managed to endure it! And Suzy's intelligence wasn't inferior to that of a child around ten years old—she was even learning Roonese vocabulary. She said she wanted to read newspapers and magazines, wanted to read books. Odile paused for a few seconds, then glanced at the golden retriever sitting beside her, clearly puzzled. "Suzy, have you fully digested the potion?" "Digested?" Suzy asked, puzzled and clearly surprised. Audrey had already told her that she had previously taken a potion, and had specifically instructed her not to tell anyone—especially intelligent animals like birds and cats. Audrey nodded slowly and deliberately: “That’s a very奇妙 and unique sensation—something ethereal within you seems to break apart and merge with your spirit. You can faintly see individual shimmering stars, and you feel as though you belong to one of them. These stars attract each other, as if trying to gather and unite into one.” Susi listened quietly and responded lightly: “Then I must have fully absorbed it—I’ve had a similar feeling before.” Ah? Had Susi completely absorbed the “audience” potion? But—but, no one had ever taught her how to embody the role of a performer! I could only occasionally remind her to observe more, to stay calm… Audrey asked in surprise: “When exactly did you absorb it?” "Last month, two months ago, or even earlier..." Suzy struggled to recall, noticing the owner's expression growing increasingly strange. She quickly shook her tail, hesitantly adding, "I'm not sure... I'm just a dog. I don't intentionally keep track of these things, do I? Woof." Just a dog... yet your digestion pace is only a little slower than mine... Shouldn't I, when talking to other extraordinary beings, now say that I'm better than a dog when it comes to digesting potions? Pfft—what are you thinking, Audrey! Audrey maintained an elegant smile, offering a polite compliment: "That's excellent, I mean, you're doing very well in digesting potions." After returning from Raphaël, Caine lounged and took a relaxed nap. But not long after, he was disturbed by the incessant, layered appeals of the ethereal voices. Male? The Man Suspended, or the Little Sun? Is my potion's primary ingredient finally arriving? Klein carefully observed for a few seconds, quickly setting aside his irritation at being disturbed, rose swiftly, and took four inverse steps into the gray mist. He noticed that the deep red star symbolizing "The Hangman" was contracting and expanding, so he extended his hand, spreading his spiritual awareness, and reached out to touch the past. After the customary title of "The Fool," "The Hangman" requested: "…I have gathered the spinal fluid of the demonic-patterned leopard and the crystalline essence of the elf spring. Please allow me to perform the offering ritual, and kindly deliver it to Mr. World." The progress was quite swift indeed… "The Hangman" mentioned recently that there would be a grand gathering among the pirates—though it seemed not recently, but now… he always spoke with a certain reserve, his statements somewhat evasive and inconsistent. Klein gave a barely perceptible nod: "Agreed." Following a simple offering ritual, Aljere restrained his impulse and did not inquire of "The Fool" gentleman whether the celestial instrument near Gardeleia, the "Star Above," was connected to him. At that moment, Caine had already set the man aside, now admiring two remarkable materials laid out on the bronze long table. The spinal fluid of the demonic-patterned black panther appeared as a transparent liquid, yet upon closer inspection, it revealed a layered clarity—becoming progressively more transparent as one moved downward, segmented perfectly, section by section, fully satisfying the needs of a patient with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. The crystalline marrow of the elf's spring resembled a faded egg, its shell thin and prone to breaking with a touch; even without being shaken, one could hear a gentle, rustling flow of water within. "Perhaps I can secure three hundred pounds in cash and the recipe details from the apothecary... My 'magician' still lacks the true root and sap of the mist-tree person. I'm wondering when the little 'sun' will complete his task..." Caine thought with growing anticipation. As for the other supporting materials, he had already gathered them from various stores—such as the water-shaped gems, which needed to be purchased at a jewelry shop, ground into powder, and typically cost about two pounds fifteen for a five-gram portion. "Sol" Driek did not keep Klein waiting long. On a Wednesday evening, he quietly prayed and told the "Fool" that he was ready with the genuine heartwood and sap of the Mist Tree Person, and asked him to deliver it to "The World." The genuine heartwood of the Mist Tree Person was heart-shaped, brown, palm-sized, with a wrinkled surface on the front, resembling the skin of an elder, and a smooth, fine texture on the back, like a gemstone—it was gently expanding and contracting, as though still alive. Its sap was pale green and translucent, clearly refreshing to drink. Klein simply gazed at them, feeling both thoughtful and confident. In the contemporary era, Sequence 7 marks the threshold of the mid-tier sequences. This means that the extraordinary ones have finally moved beyond merely being slightly better than ordinary people in certain aspects, now possessing relatively rich extraordinary abilities! Heh... Caine slowly exhaled, returned to his bedroom, and brought his extraordinary materials into the real world through the very act of summoning himself. He didn't bother preparing additional vessels; simply rinsed the iron pot in the kitchen several times, and then began preparing the potion in the order of first supporting elements, then the main components. With "Punch" maintaining such strong control over his body, he swiftly completed the prelude, gradually adding in the spinal fluid of the demonic-patterned black leopard and the genuine root of the mist-dwelling tree-being. Plink! A sound that made one's teeth ache, a light white mist suddenly surged up, only to be forcibly drawn back into the iron pot by an unseen force. Once everything had settled down, Caine quickly poured out the liquid, transferring every single drop into the transparent glass bottle that had been prepared in advance. The liquid was quite special, as if there had always been a vibrant flame dancing within it, with colors—red, orange, yellow, green—constantly spreading out, fading, and reappearing. This was the "Magician's" potion! Cain held a one-pound coin between the base of his left thumb and his index finger, then gave it a crisp upward flick, catching it in his palm. He was using divination to confirm whether his potion had been successfully prepared! Plink! The coin settled, upright, signaling a positive outcome. Cain made no further hesitation. He folded the coin, picked up the potion, and stepped out of the kitchen. By now, the evening had deepened, and the gas lamps in the room had not yet been lit. The surroundings were dark, with only a faint, external light from near the bulging window creating a hazy, dim atmosphere. Klein sat on the sofa, calming his inner agitation through meditation, temporarily distancing himself from all emotions. After completing this, he reached for a tall glass bottle, lifted it to his neck, and drank the "Magician's" potion down. Gurgle! Gurgle! The cold potion flowed steadily down his throat, with countless bubbles bursting at every moment. As Klein experienced this sensation, a massive influx of information suddenly surged into his mind, blossoming into one flower after another in the form of mist. The veins on his forehead swelled and bulged, as if his head were about to burst, and indeed, it felt as though it might crack. Yet, for Klein, this was not particularly taxing—far less intense than the terrifying murmurs he'd endured before entering the gray mist, or the evil roar of the True Creator. "Honacis... Freglar... Honacis... Freglar... Honacis... Freglar..." The ethereal, elusive allure resonated once more. Klein's mind swelled and contracted, pulsing in rhythm, gradually regaining his thoughts and beginning to consciously shape his ideas, drawing the luminous orb closer to a meditative state. After an indeterminate length of time, his vision returned, and he felt an intense itch spreading across his body—most pronounced in his arms. Hurriedly, he raised his sleeves, only to be startled by the sight: one arm's skin was deeply creased, resembling that of a centenarian, while the other had lost its color, becoming translucent, revealing the veins, muscles, and sinews beneath. This... was it still a bit out of control? No, not quite—this was the lingering effect. Sitting in the darkness, on the sofa, Klein leaned forward, intently observing the anomalies in his arms, as though something monstrous were taking root there. He heard the sound of pedestrians passing by on the street, heard Mrs. Staline greeting her husband who had returned half an hour late, and heard Mr. Summer complaining about the excessive number of carriages and the narrow roads causing congestion. All of this had nothing to do with Cline, who sat quietly on the sofa in the deep darkness, watching his skin, which had wrinkled, gradually returning to its smooth, transparent state. After a few minutes, everything returned to normal. Cline sighed silently: "Good thing no one came to knock or ring the bell at this moment. I only decided to advance after fully digesting the Sequence 8 potion, and even then, I still experienced such severe residual effects. Those extraordinary individuals whose abilities have been refined over time—surely they would find this phase particularly challenging." "That explains why the队长 took nine years." "That explains why the owner of the Dragon's Inn, the former Penitent Captain Swyn, has always hesitated to consume the Sequence 7 'Navigator' potion." After another fifteen seconds of quiet stillness, Cline slowly stood up. At this very moment, he has already become an exceptional one of the mid-tier ranks. At this very moment, he has already become a "Magician."