Queens County, the Earl of Hall's dining room. By custom, Audrey is praying with her father, mother, and brother. "Praise the goddess!" she makes four clockwise touches on her chest, concluding with this phrase. Yet as soon as she finishes speaking, a dense gray mist spreads across her field of vision, and a figure looming above all of them—distant and majestic—speaks: "That is a 'Card of Desecration' crafted by Roxel." "The Fool," the speaker continues, "the 'Card of Desecration'?" Finally receiving a response, Audrey is initially delighted, then slightly puzzled, unsure exactly what the 'Card of Desecration' refers to. However, she quickly forms a hypothesis. She has always known that Emperor Roxel had created a secret set of cards symbolizing certain unknown forces—a set of twenty-two cards, considered a precursor to the Tarot. And she had heard the "Hanged Man" say that the secret hidden within the set of cards was the divine path—the way to divinity! It was called the "Card of Disruption"... corresponding to the "Tablets of Disruption"... absolutely one of the most precious treasures in the mystical world! The divine path! That's why the devoted followers of the "Magician" had requested assistance, insisting on verifying that it was indeed the correct card before taking action, so as not to make a mistake, and miss the true target, only to awaken the Steam Church to the revelation that a particular bookmark concealed the "Card of Disruption." She wondered if he had succeeded. The extraordinary members of the Steam Church had not made their routine inquiries—perhaps he was still plotting. As her body trembled slightly, Odile again saw, within the thick gray mist, a faint silhouette of a praying figure, blurred beyond recognition. He was respectfully saying: "To the Validator, I offer my heartfelt thanks—the very fact of your presence has made my actions proceed with great ease." "For this, I am willing to raise my fee to 3,000 pounds, deducting it from the outstanding 5,000 pounds—this is precisely the share the other party deserves." Has it succeeded? Really succeeded? But just now, when I glanced at the front pages of the newspapers, I found no news of stolen artifacts—only updates on the twelfth victim in the series of serial murders. Raising the fee to 3,000 pounds clearly indicates that Monsieur le Fool's actions have been successful—he managed to remove the bookmark hiding the 'Card of Desecration' without anyone noticing! What a splendid achievement! Though the term "Fool," invented by King Roxel, may be somewhat rustic, lacking in grace and refinement, and thus not befitting noble stature, it is precisely the feeling I now experience! Our Tarot Circle has now established a complete 'Divine Path'! Is it truly complete? I don't yet know which one it is. Nevertheless, it symbolizes the path to divinity! Under the radiant light of the Knight of Fools, we will one day become the most outstanding and powerful hidden force! I wonder if any other bookmarks harbor the "Card of Desecration"... Audrey controlled her excited emotions, feeling both yearning and proud, allowing the serving maid to unfold her napkin for her. She glanced thoughtfully toward the Earl, who had the habit of reading the newspaper while having breakfast: "Father, is there anything noteworthy in today's news?" The Earl sighed: "That demon has once again taken an innocent life—the twelfth such case. This time, it's a rising fashion designer who, just as she was beginning to gain recognition, had to resort to street performances several times due to financial hardship. And now, she has met such a tragic fate." "Fortunately, there were witnesses who saw the demon commit the murder. He was absolutely terrified, shouting continuously along the streets—'Murder!' 'Help!'—and honestly, his cries and pleas proved remarkably effective; the demon didn't even pursue him." "The police have used these accounts to identify the suspect and are now actively searching for him." Audrey drew the crimson moon once again upon her chest. "May their efforts succeed." "Father, from your description, that scene was truly both terrifying and hilarious." "I hope the witness doesn't suffer nightmares as a result." And that very same evening, the follower of the 'Fool' quietly removed the 'Card of Desecration' from within the museum, protected by a series of careful measures—without disturbing anyone. In her heart, Audrey added a touch of longing and filled in some vivid details. ........ In the restored study of the Royal Museum. "Has only one pair of bookmarks been stolen?" asked Max Levimoor,队长 of the "Heart of Mechanism" team, to his队员. As he spoke, he glanced discreetly at the senior figure standing by the desk, facing away from him. It was an elderly man dressed in a white priest's robe, wearing a soft hat typical of clergy—head of the Becland diocese of the Church of the Steam and Mechanism, a member of the Council of the Divine, and Bishop Horamik Haddon. This distinguished figure was not only a clergyman but also a renowned scientist, an honorary professor of physics at Becland University. "Yes, only that one pair has been stolen," the responding team member replied with confidence. Max nodded gently, then looked thoughtfully at Bishop Horamik Haddon, pausing before asking carefully, "Your Grace, after closing yesterday evening, several noble youths came to view the exhibits. They touched certain items, including one of the missing bookmarks. Would you like us to have them assist with the investigation?" "I know about this," Horamik said, his hands naturally hanging at his sides as he turned his body, his tone calm and composed. "I've verified that the noble youths have no connection with the thief who stole the bookmark—there's no need for them to assist in the investigation anymore." "Indeed, Your Grace," Max himself didn't see anything amiss, and with the Archbishop possessing such solid knowledge of mysticism and various extraordinary techniques, the confirmation was entirely credible. Horamik had a very gentle and kindly face, and at this moment, he showed no trace of anger. He glanced around the room. "There were at least two people here last night, divided into two opposing factions." "One of them even holds a sequence higher than mine, while the other strangely managed to disappear." "While I can't reconstruct the full scene, certain details are clearly visible." "The situation is more complex than we initially imagined." "With that, he sighed, 'I also understand why they wanted to steal the bookmark.' 'We've been deceived by Roscel for over one hundred and fifty years...' ...Three thousand pounds—what a blow! I've saved it all these years, and still haven't even reached a thousand. But the 'Sacred Tablet' is priceless; nothing could replace it. And Miss Justice's contribution in this matter is absolutely worth that sum. Fortunately, the amount has been drawn from what she owes me, which has somewhat eased the pressure. Should I ever meet Mr. Azk, I'll pay the 15,000 pounds due to the 'Loyal Ones' using higher-tier formulas. As for the other 'Sacred Tablets,' I have no idea what guise they've taken—given the Emperor's nature, they must surely be quite unexpected. After all, Clain concluded his remarks, gazing silently at the gray mist stretching beyond the palace, and murmured a few quiet reflections. Caution came first. He temporarily left the "Black Emperor" card suspended above the gray mist, resting upon the bronze long table directly opposite the " Fool" seat—just as he left the Aztec copper whistle in the same position. Upon returning to the real world, he performed a ritual, summoning himself to re-activate the "Universal Key," that elusive and unfortunate amalgamation of lostness and bad luck—an influence that seemed minor at first, yet potentially life-threatening in times of serious crisis. He then placed this seal upon the gray mist, intending to use it only when truly needed. The "universal key" was merely the belongings of a rather unfortunate newcomer who had just reached Sequence 9—yet it carried an impact that even exceptional beings from the mid-tier sequences couldn't weaken. Clearly, the apprentice's moment of loss of control was influenced by additional factors, making it exceptional. Thus, my earlier decision was sound: I must proceed with caution regarding the investigation of the residence at 32 Wilde Street, South District of the Bridge, and be fully prepared. Indeed, one must clearly recognize that the effectiveness of the seal may not be strictly tied to the sequence of the one who originally generated it. Multiple considerations must be taken into account—such as whether the object has been tainted by divine corruption. After eating and drinking, he reviewed again the events of the previous night, looking for any clues he might have overlooked: "Even with the 'universal key,' if one isn't themselves a remarkable individual, it's impossible to escape from a demon's grasp. That mysterious and powerful woman must have confirmed to me that I wasn't just an ordinary private detective—something I hadn't expected to conceal." "She didn't detain me, which means she was either an official with a favorable view toward wild exceptionalists, or she wasn't part of the three major churches or the military. I lean more toward the latter—the former would likely have seized the 'universal key.' At that point, I was almost desperate, thinking I'd be treated like a regular exceptionalist and imprisoned beneath the Steam Church, even starting to plan my escape route. Yet, she simply walked away." "Which organization does she belong to? Or is she one of the wild exceptionalists? No—wild exceptionalists who have reached such a level of strength must have developed their own organization." "The demon dog will surely employ its extraordinary abilities to erase all traces linked to itself—naturally including mine. In the esoteric realm, these traces are inseparable. The lady in question may also be unsuitable for public exposure, and the clues left behind during my escape seem to have been disrupted." "As for the events within the museum—they're seeking a special spirit, a strange entity. What does that have to do with me, Sherlock Moriarty?" Clive made a self-deprecating remark, his inner calm growing stronger. Of course, he had dared to return home after having consulted the omens beforehand—just as he wouldn't have feared an entirely unsolvable trap within the museum. Hmph. This matter has now come to a close... What shall I do today? Practice my extraordinary abilities, and perhaps stop by the Crags Club for a meal? Hmm. I wonder if the Watchers and the Sentinels have confirmed the murderer. Should I write another letter to Esinga Stanton, offering a subtle hint? As his thoughts swirled, Clive heard someone approaching and then moving away again. Another letter? He hesitated before opening the door, and indeed found a letter lying inside the mailbox. The letter came from Esgaroth-Stanton.