2,000 pounds? That's enough to drive every bounty hunter and private detective in Beckland mad! This isn't quite like Zilings, the "Hurricane of the Sea," who has long drifted aimlessly at sea—this one is tangible, within reach. Well, a pirate of comparable strength to a Tier 5 should be worth ten thousand gold pounds; even a Tier 6 offender should command at least three or four thousand. So, is it reasonable that the Night Watch and the Substitute Sentinels have assessed the murderer as a Tier 7 "serial killer," rather than a rising Tier 5 contender? Then, twenty hundred pounds is indeed a premium. It's plausible that "The Sun" claims the ritual is quite ancient—perhaps it hadn't been performed since the Great Cataclysm, and neither the major churches nor the military have records of it. Yet there's a problem: the Goddess Church, the Church of Steam and Machinery, and the Royal Augustan family all emerged during the Great Cataclysm and thus lack deep historical knowledge. The Storm Church, however, has consistently maintained its claim as one of the oldest. So, does this claim of antiquity still hold true even after the demons retreated back into the Abyss? Hearing Esengar Stanton's words, the first thing that flashed through Caine's mind was an assessment of the reward amount, followed by a cascade of associations and thoughts. "What's your opinion?" Esengar asked, noticing that Sherlock Moriaty seemed slightly distracted. My opinion? Caine found himself momentarily at a loss. A typical private investigator would certainly agree—both due to the generous reward and because of the prestige of facing a well-known detective. A friendly relationship with Esengar would bring significant benefits within the circle. The issue, however, was that Caine was not a typical private investigator. He worried that during his investigation, he might encounter the night watchman assigned to the case. Though I now have a beard, wear glasses, and have changed my hairstyle, the night watchmen I've met only a few times would likely not recognize me. But what if it were Madam Dali? Not saying no is also not right—it sounds odd, suspicious even. Moreover, I hope to catch that demon soon, otherwise I don’t know how many more innocent girls will fall victim. After a few seconds of thought, Cline smiled slightly: "I've recently taken on a rather complicated case, and I'm likely to be quite busy." Before Esgarrouth Stanton could speak, he added: "I can certainly participate in discussions, review materials, and analyze clues, but I probably won't take on the actual investigation." He'd make a divination later—if there truly is an issue, he'd keep his remarks brief during discussions and simply act as a passive observer. As he spoke, Cline quickly formed a clear plan. Esgarrouth, holding his black staff, paused and said: "That works." "This time I've gathered over a dozen detectives—enough manpower to conduct a thorough investigation. What I truly admire about you is your exceptional deductive reasoning and analytical skills. Without my extensive resources, you managed to make the trip all the way to the Dong Bailang Dockyard and the Port Union." "If we succeed in apprehending the culprit and securing the reward, I'll distribute the compensation fairly according to each person's contribution. I can assure you that I've maintained a solid reputation in this field." "Agreed—let's work together." Kline extended his right hand, shaking it firmly and sensing the dryness and warmth of Esing's palm. For a gentleman in his forties or fifties, to maintain such a condition during the deep autumn in Bekland was no easy feat—this observation only deepened Kline's belief that Esing was no ordinary man. "Good cooperation," Esing smiled and nodded. At this moment, Cline realized he had been a little impolite and quickly brightened, saying, "Sorry, I forgot to invite you in. Shall we have a nice coffee or tea and chat properly?" "No need to apologize. I've arranged for those detectives to come to my house at nine in the morning to discuss the case; my assistant is already there awaiting them." Esgar took out a silver pocket watch with intricate carvings and a strong mechanical elegance, opened it, and glanced at the time. "We'll have to head over to meet them. Does that work for you?" "Perfect. I'll go to the restroom, change into my clothes, and then we'll be off." At this very moment, Cline suddenly felt the sense of purpose he had experienced as a night watchman—fighting injustice, maintaining order, and protecting the people. In the restroom, he went to the Veil of Gray Mist, used divination to obtain a favorable answer, and swiftly returned to the present world. He donned his coat, put on his hat, grasped his staff, and followed Esgar into a hired carriage, sitting on either side. Aethelgir looked at him, as though pondering, and asked, "I'm quite curious—how did you come to realize that the case of Hesbel's murder was connected to the Eastern Baylant Shipyard and the Dockworkers' Association?" I hadn't noticed that at all... it was a misunderstanding... Caine seriously considered how to weave a plausible lie. With a smile, he responded rather vaguely, "Initially, I determined that Hesbel's death was part of a pattern of imitated crimes, thanks to the assistance of journalist Mike Joseph, who confirmed this. Then, by tracing Hesbel's route back to 'The Golden Rose' and considering a few other clues, I formed a hypothesis. So, I went along as a journalist to investigate." Aethelgir nodded slightly, didn't waste further time on the topic, and then proceeded to provide a detailed account of the series of murders—more comprehensive than what appeared in the newspapers, especially the most recent one. Time flew by as they discussed and exchanged information, and the carriage arrived at an older building in the Hillsdon district. The lighting in this house isn't particularly good. Even though today in Beckett there's no fog, it feels quite dim. Esgarrouth Stanton leads Caine through the still fairly spacious living room into the sitting room, where the fireplace has already been lit. Caine takes in his surroundings and notices about fifteen or sixteen detectives seated in every available spot. "Sherlock?" a voice of surprise rises, as if Caine were a familiar acquaintance. Who? Caine is momentarily startled, noticing that Stuart, whom he had just parted from yesterday, is now here. He looks more closely and identifies Kaslanara, the detective who had been responsible for protecting Atreus, and her assistant, Lydia. "What a coincidence," Caine smiles, approaching Stuart with a warm expression. Stuart shifted slightly, making room for half his backside, and tapped the seat. "Maybe it's no coincidence—I recall reading about a phenomenon in psychology called synchronicity, where thoughts come true. Ha, that's just a joke." At that moment, Eicheng introduced the guest to the assembled detectives: "This is Mr. Sherlock Moriarty, an outstanding detective." With his endorsement, the others—Caslanara and the rest—now looked at Kline with noticeably more confidence, believing he truly was a distinguished private investigator. After a polite nod, Kline sat down beside Stuart and casually asked, "Have your cases concluded?" "Yes," replied the other, "Ataru's condition has improved, and his adversaries seem to have encountered difficulties—no longer posing a threat. So, we've effectively lost our clients." "Stuart chuckled, 'I originally planned to rest a few days, but then Mr. Stanton called me in, so I came over to take a look. In fact, that's rather good—because I really don't like cases with a touch of the eerie or unsettling. I mean, I'm talking about ghost stories here—cases that feel strange or even frightening. Personally, I'd much prefer to handle homicide cases!' After serving each of them a cup of coffee or tea and distributing the files, Esgen settled into the armchair, pulled out his pipe, and slowly stroked it, saying, 'I'm sure none of you will find the recent series of murders unfamiliar. Do you have any thoughts? Share them with us and let's discuss them together.' Stuart, with a lean frame and only a light beard, raised his hand and spoke first, 'I've just gone through the files and noticed something interesting—the police haven't started their investigation by looking at the victims' identities.' "I think that criminal couldn't have simply recognized the victim as a streetwalker based on sight alone—he must have had some contact with them. That's a crucial point the police completely overlooked! God, this is simply incredible!" The criminal probably did recognize the victim just by sight... Klein murmured to himself. Most private detectives voiced their agreement with Stuart's observation, while only a few—Caslanara and Esgen—remained silent. "This is indeed a crucial point, Stuart. Find a few friends and investigate thoroughly." Only after the discussion settled did Esgen offer a calm assessment. In the following hours, the detectives expressed their views, sometimes arguing passionately, sometimes rising to walk and organize their thoughts. Klein listened quietly throughout, without offering any comment. By the time the conversation drew to a close, he suddenly raised his hand and said: "I would like the records of the unsolved serial murder cases in Beckettland, and indeed throughout the entire kingdom, that have gone unbroken over the past twenty years." The room fell silent for a few seconds. Most of the private detectives found themselves momentarily at a loss to understand the intent behind Caine's request. Esgen brought his pipe close to his nose, inhaled deeply, and then said thoughtfully, "Do you think the killer isn't a first-time offender?" "Are you suggesting he has a history of similar crimes, even if the methods differ?" Not a suspicion—almost a certainty. That was what Caine thought in his mind. This was the inference drawn from the information provided by "The Sun": Since the killer has been striving to advance from Sequence 6 to Sequence 5, what exactly did he do during his time in Sequence 7, the 'Serial Killer' phase? If he hadn't committed similar crimes before, it would have been difficult for him to digest the potion—even with accumulated time, there would still be a significant probability that the transition from Sequence 7 to Sequence 6 would go awry. Exceptional individuals who follow the "Deep Abyss" path fall into this high-risk category. Therefore, Caine concludes that, regardless of whether the other person understands the art of "acting," they must have completed a series of consecutive murders during their Sequence 7 phase due to various factors. As a result, it would take only a few years for them to digest the Sequence 7 potion, and even when including Sequence 6, a twenty-year timeframe remains entirely reasonable. Should the individual grow too old, the progression would become highly perilous—regardless of whether the potion was fully absorbed—since the deeper the ritual progresses, the more the person would grow increasingly frantic, leaving behind clear traces. At present, the murderer exhibits calm composure, possesses the ability to disrupt divination and tracking efforts, and shows almost no vulnerabilities. However, his earlier, more inexperienced self likely did not display such composure! When he first achieved a series of consecutive murders, he probably wasn't nearly as careful. That's the best lead we can follow! Several thoughts flashed through Klein's mind as he nodded in agreement. "The criminal's modus operandi doesn't sound like a rookie's." "I have reason to believe he's done something similar before!" "By combining past experiences with current observations, we're much more likely to pinpoint the core of the issue." Hearing his response, the detectives exchanged glances and began discussing it. After a brief pause, Esgar by heartedly praised: "Excellent insight!"