Klein and the others had only just finished lunch when the detective who had taken leave returned to Green Park Street, marking the conclusion of his engagement. Since Atreus's condition had improved noticeably, Logos Caroman was notably generous in settling his fee, adding a full fifty percent premium on top of the base amount of ten pounds. "Indeed, a seasoned jewelry merchant—he's generous with his spending. Yet, compared to others in the West Side and Queens, he's not particularly wealthy. Green Park Street is quite suburban, even close to the cemetery; I can reach it in just ten minutes of full-speed running. Well, Miss Bodyguard, no, Miss Sharon—likely a Sequence 5 strength—charges three hundred pounds per three days. As for me, a Sequence 7 Exceptional, I'm only paid fifteen pounds per day. The gap still feels significant. Of course, if I could secure such assignments every day, my annual income would exceed five thousand four hundred pounds, placing me among the upper echelon of the middle class—where even the first manager at Bakerland Bank earns only five thousand pounds annually. Hah! That's merely a dream for most detectives. Truly, many of them go weeks without a case, only to survive on the income from a single one. And the exceptional materials required to advance to Sequence 6 alone would total well over three thousand pounds. For ordinary people, that's a truly substantial sum—enough to sustain a comfortable lifestyle for a lifetime!" "The good news is, even after mastering the method of embodiment, it will still take six months to three years to fully absorb the potion from Sequence 7—despite my ability to quickly distill the rules of 'The Magician,' I can only manage to accelerate the process by a couple of months at most. I still have ample time to save money and gather material leads... " "Wait—Miss Justice still owes me, er, the 5,000 pounds from my followers..." "But her financial situation has been rather strained lately, and it's unlikely she'll be able to come up with such a large sum within the next few months..." Cain held the three five-pound banknotes in his hands and wandered off from the West District, his thoughts drifting freely. Upon returning to Minsk Street, he promptly burned the used paper figures and added two more. By evening, he boarded the steam subway and arrived at the Beckettland Bridge district, where he knocked on the door of the gathering house according to the numbers provided in the newspaper. As before, he donned the iron mask that covered only his upper face, donned a black robe with a hood, and, under the guidance of a servant, entered the sitting room where a single candle burned steadily. At first glance, Caine noticed that the number of extraordinary individuals present this time was nearly half what it had been in past gatherings. I've all come on time—so why are the others late? Caine didn't alter his usual gait or habitual movements, instead choosing a corner spot and sitting down slowly. After a few minutes, the elderly gentleman known as "The Eye of Wisdom" cleared his throat and said, "Let us begin the gathering—others are likely not coming." He then added a brief explanation: "The serial murder case has yet to yield its killer. Most extraordinary individuals from the night watch, the substitute penance group, the Mechanical Heart, and the Nine Department of Military Intelligence have been dispatched to conduct large-scale investigations and searches." "Under these circumstances, it's quite understandable and normal for friends to be reluctant to leave their homes or attend gatherings." "To be honest, the number of people here today exceeds my expectations." Indeed, the circle of the extraordinary is not isolated—it too is affected by current events... Klein surveyed the room and saw the plump pharmacist present, which immediately eased his mind. The pharmacist pushed gently at the iron mask on his face and, with little hope, called out, "I'm seeking the髓质 crystalline essence of the Elven Spring—price is negotiable." "I have it," Klein replied without hesitation. He was concerned that others might have also found this rare material, which could lead to a buildup of his own inventory. — Though extraordinary materials are scarce and rarely duplicated within a single circle, one never knows—there's always a chance. "Seeking the髓质 crystalline essence of the Elven Spring..." the pharmacist seemed to have missed the response. Midway through, he suddenly froze, sharply turning to look at Caine, his eyes blazing as he asked aloud, "Do you have it?" "Yes," Caine replied, slightly overwhelmed by the intense gaze. As he affirmed, he rolled up his black robe and produced an iron cigarette box. *Plink!* Caine opened the box, revealing the slightly faded, egg-like crystalline essence of the Elven Spring. "If you'd like, I can have the Elder of the 'Eye of Wisdom' make a formal assessment," Caine added, speaking with quiet conviction. This wasn't strictly necessary—whether the material was extraordinary was immediately apparent, and any contamination could be quickly detected upon receipt. However, if one lacked sufficient knowledge of esoteric studies, even similar materials could easily be mistaken for one another, in which case an assessment would be essential. The apothecary stared at the extraordinary materials in Caine's hands as if gazing at a beautiful woman he had long admired, shaking his head after several seconds. "No, thank you," he said. "It's exactly it!" "It's exactly it!" Caine smiled slightly and proposed the price: "Three hundred pounds, plus the clues to the apothecary's formula." "The clues to the apothecary's formula... you, of course!" The apothecary paused, finally realizing who he was dealing with. It was the very person who had been sent to run errands with sedatives! Immediately, he expressed deep regret and sorrow: "You truly are a lucky man!" "Why didn't I choose that path of fortune back then?" he mused. "After all, I am the King of Luck, the sovereign of fortune and fate." Caine offered a self-deprecating remark. The apothecary sighed deeply, adjusting his posture. "It's too much," he said. "Two hundred pounds, plus the clues to the formula." "The clues are merely incidental, since I can't verify their authenticity. Therefore, I'm sticking to three hundred pounds—every penny. I'm certain others would also find use for such a price. Honestly, this rate is quite fair. Others might demand four hundred, even five hundred pounds, and you might have to settle for that." "I wouldn't be that foolish—I can still wait..." the apothecary murmured. "The clues can be examined by the old man, I mean, the 'Eye of Wisdom.'" "Only objective, well-detailed matters can be assessed by me. Pure clues don't fall into that category." The old man, 'Eye of Wisdom,' added with a note of emphasis. Divination can generally determine whether the clues are valid—provided no force exceeding two or three levels above the current one is involved...克莱恩 silently remarked to himself. Yet, he would never reveal his skill in divination at gatherings of extraordinary individuals. "Well... 300 pounds plus the notes, you've made out!" The apothecary took a deep breath, ran his fingers over a thick stack of cash, counted the exact amount, then asked the waiter for paper and pen, settling down to write. With a series of swift strokes, he prepared the notes, crumpled the paper haphazardly into a ball, and placed it along with the cash and a few other items into the waiter's hands. When the waiter arrived, Caine glanced at the bundle and suddenly found himself momentarily stunned. Besides the cash and the notes, there were four slender glass tubes, each filled with a clear, seemingly pure liquid. "What are these?" Caine asked, puzzled. "Didn't you forget? The sedative you requested—my specially prepared one—each tube costs ten shillings, four tubes amount to two pounds. That makes the cash total 298 pounds," the apothecary replied. "If you'd like, you may request an official inspection of my sedatives." "I really forgot… I was only trying to win over Miss Sharon, and now she's not here. Well, that's fine—having a steady supply of sedatives might just be enough to handle some unexpected situations. Cline remained silent, drawing out the crystalline essence of the Elven Spring, taking the items, and counting the cash in front of everyone, verifying the authenticity under the dim candlelight. A total of 298 pounds… Yes. The money folder was now full, so Cline rolled up the remaining bills and tucked them into his coat pocket. After setting aside the sedatives, he unfolded the note and glanced at the clue: "South District of the Bridge, Rose Street, at St. Harvest Church, find Bishop Utzovski. If you can assist him with a task, you may receive a pharmacist's formula." St. Harvest Church—this was one of the few churches of the Earth Mother's Church in the kingdom, and this church held the exceptional paths of the "Farmers" and the "Pharmacists." The clue matched perfectly. Cline thoughtfully folded the note once again. As the gathering progressed, the exceptional woman with a "craftsman" behind her remained either absent or without securing a new extraordinary weapon, never speaking up—leaving Caine's hopes unfulfilled. Now he had 509 pounds in cash, which he could consider for equipment. After many transactions fell through, a man seated on a high stool spoke quietly: "I have a friend who was unfortunately identified during this recent thorough inspection and has been imprisoned beneath one of the storm churches by the substitute penitents. I would like to request several helpers to join me in rescuing him." The elder, known as "The Eye of Wisdom," immediately responded: "The 'Wild Dog,' abandon this plan! A single substitute penitent and sealed object from a storm church is sufficient to destroy all of us here." "Your friend's fate is already sealed—do not allow yourself to fall into the same predicament." The "wild dog" scanned the room, noticing no one responding to him, and then resolutely pounded his thigh several times, growling, "But what exactly did he do wrong? He's an outstanding internist—he's saved countless patients and has never harmed a single one! Simply because he took the magic potion and became a remarkable one, should he be imprisoned in a place where he never sees the sun, even becoming a test subject for the penal experiments? Why? Why?" Without revealing the "Method of Performance," all wild extraordinary beings are like time bombs... But if the "Method of Performance" becomes widespread, the situation might become even more chaotic and bloody... After all, extraordinary traits are eternal and conserved. Amid this tense atmosphere, the gathering drew to a close, and Klein, who had gained no further insights, spoke again: "Who has special extraordinary effects on their handgun bullets?" "For instance, purifying effects, monster-hunting effects, etc., etc." He didn't specify the caliber, since he currently didn't have a gun—he could simply wait until he acquired the bullets and then configure them accordingly. In the quiet, a female extraordinary being seated in the corner responded softly: "I can ask around and let you know next time." It seemed to be the same woman with the "Craftsman" behind her. Klein exhaled and said, "That would be great." When the gathering was over, he didn't head directly back to Minsk Street. Instead, he went to the East District, changed his outfit, and proceeded to the area where the North District met the Hillsdon District—where Copusti Red, a suspected member of the spiritual order, lived.