Sharon took the sedative in the glass vial, glanced at the liquid inside, which appeared clear and pure, and nodded gently. "Good." Indeed, she was a woman who didn't waste words... Klein smiled and added, "Miss Sharon, could you please tell me the several battle locations you've reserved? I'd like to get familiar with the surroundings in the coming days so that, no matter where you ultimately decide, my preparations will be more thorough." Since the final choice of battle sites rested with them, they wouldn't have to worry about me informing official organizations or other extraordinary beings who might want to take advantage—though, of course, if trust remains insufficient, we could always conduct a second "notarization"... Klein thought calmly. Sharon's deep blue eyes studied him for several seconds before speaking. "Go prepare a map of Beckland and lay it out on the coffee table." "There's no problem. I hope this collaboration not only proceeds smoothly, but also proves enjoyable." Kline habitually extended his hand forward, ready to shake the other's. Sarren glanced down, her form gradually fading until she vanished into the air. Kline then raised his right hand, combed his black hair, and offered a dry smile. He had asked about the designated battlefield location—not only to prepare for the mission, but also to keep a watchful eye on Sarren and Marich. Although their philosophy emphasized restraint and the suppression of desires, and they typically upheld commitments without breaking them, Kline couldn't be certain that there weren't within them certain things they deeply desired—perhaps even things that would provoke strong resentment in ordinary extraordinary beings. Should such a rare and valuable treasure emerge, one that would naturally stir intense jealousy in the likes of a spirit-bound Steve, a reanimated Jason, or a werewolf named Tael, Kline couldn't guarantee he and his team would be able to contain their own impulses. Thus, he needed to thoroughly assess the situation in advance and ensure a clear escape route should either of them decide to eliminate him or the others outright. It was not that Caine didn't trust Sharon, who had shared hardships with him—this was simply the most fundamental form of self-protection. One must have no desire to harm others, yet always be ready to guard against them. Caine turned his head toward the window, silently sighing in Chinese. One by one, the gas streetlamps swept past, making the streets wider and cleaner. It took him thirty minutes and a cost of three soules, finally bringing him back to Minsk Street. "Riding in a carriage at this hour is truly expensive," Caine mused, glancing up at the nearly black sky and the faint red moon piercing through the clouds. After walking a while, he suddenly noticed that the lawyer's house, Jurgen's, was dark—completely silent and still. He pulled out his gold-case pocket watch, opened it, and checked the time. A soft chuckle escaped him. He turned the corner and reached Jurgen's door, using the key he had been given to open it. At that moment, the black cat, Brody, was quietly crouched behind the door, her emerald, round eyes fixed on the visitor, the house dark and silent, lonely and still. Klein crouched down, trying to touch Brody's head, but the other swiftly stepped back, pushing his hand away with a look of disdain. He shook his head, smiled slightly, rose to open the valve, lighting the gas lamp, and then, following Jurgen's description, went to the cupboard to retrieve the prepared ingredients. Next, he entered the kitchen, lit the stove, and began boiling water in preparation for Brody's favorite—boiled chicken breast. The black cat followed in, leaping gracefully onto the countertop and settling beside him, silent and watchful. Klein glanced at it, mentally rehearsing how he would cut the chicken breast, and spoke to the cat in a casual, conversational tone: "You must be missing Doris太太 quite a bit, aren't you?" “Are you really quite worried about her condition…?” “Jurist Yurgen hasn’t come home today. You, alone with your cat, must feel lonely, ungrounded, exhausted, worn out….” As she spoke, Klein’s voice gradually softened, until it fell to silence. Black cat Brody remained seated there, quietly observing him, neither moving nor making a sound. … At Mrs. Norma’s home, Audrey arrived as scheduled for the afternoon tea. “Those are precisely the mystics I mentioned,” Mrs. Norma warmly introduced her distinguished guests. “This is Mr. Hilbert Arukalde, a psychologist and also a jewelry designer—exceptionally talented. This is Miss Islanter Osislack, a psychiatrist, which is what we commonly refer to as a psychologist.” Mr. Hilbert Arukalde was a man in his forties, with a touch of southern continental heritage, and his skin tone was slightly brown. He had brown hair and blue eyes, with a somewhat unremarkable facial structure, giving off a quiet, reserved impression. Isilant Osisleka, a woman who had already become a clinical psychologist, appeared instead like a young girl still studying at a public or grammar school. She possessed long, jet-black hair reaching down to her waist and eyes the color of a lake, standing a few centimeters shorter than Odile. After exchanging a few polite greetings with her counterpart, Odile sat down and immediately noticed that both Arukalde and Isilant were observing her closely. Without using her innate "mind-reader" ability, she deliberately feigned ignorance, proactively steering the conversation toward the field of mysticism, and continuously monitoring her emotional state to ensure it remained logically consistent. She could not allow them to discover that she was already a special one—someone who had taken the "Audience" and "Mind-Reader" potions… Odile was fully aware of the role she needed to play today. Unlike the quiet Alukard, Islantrt was a talkative type. After just a few exchanges, she asked, "Have you heard of the Great Year and the Great Month?" "No, I haven't," replied Odile, carefully drawing upon the knowledge she'd acquired from her circle of esoteric enthusiasts. In reality, she had already clarified what the Great Year and the Great Month meant from Mr. The Hangman—she silently added a smile to that. "The Great Year refers to the number of years it takes for our planet's axis to complete one full precession, totaling 25,920 years, which in esoteric traditions is considered a complete cycle—from beginning to end. The Great Month is the duration it takes for the axis to shift through one of the twelve zodiac signs, each lasting 2,160 years. When a Great Month changes, catastrophic events occur. According to calculations, we are only a few years away from the end of the current Great Month." Islantrt spoke fluently, keeping the atmosphere warm and engaging throughout. Audrey masked the fact that she actually knew quite a bit, occasionally asking curious questions that were slightly off. Thus, the pleasant afternoon tea quickly slipped by, and both Arucald and Iseland rose to leave, departing from Mrs. Norma's home. This left Audrey somewhat disappointed—she had expected them to at least hint at matters concerning the Psychological Alchemy Society, but they said nothing. Well, as a secret organization that couldn't be exposed, the evaluation of potential members isn't this straightforward or direct... It seems at least a few more meetings and some quiet observation will be needed before they decide whether to share information with her or invite her to join. That's actually a good thing—now I can inform Mr. The Fool right away! Audrey soon realized the reason. She then also rose to leave, and after Mrs. Norma escorted her to the door, smiled and said: "Audrey, I think you're quite interested in psychological matters, aren't you?" Why not try becoming a psychologist before getting married? "The Count and Countess are both devoted to the goddess; they should support such a venture." Among the nobility, unless facing special circumstances like financial crises, marriage typically unfolds over a lengthy period, involving rigorous evaluation and comparison, since it's not merely about two young people coming together—it also signifies alliance and mutual support among families. Thus, although noble women formally enter society and declare their adulthood under the guidance of the Queen at age 18, and thus become eligible for marriage, statistics show that they typically establish their families around age 26. Likewise, noble men entering military or political life usually marry for the first time at an average age of 28.5. In other words, after coming of age, Audrey has roughly eight years to pursue the activities she truly enjoys. And the Church of the Goddess of Night has always encouraged female devotees to go out and work, pursue certain professions—within the noble circles, many ladies have thus become literary critics, musicians, pianists, painters, and so on. Is this a test? Odile smiled lightly in response. "Then I shall need to read more books." She had always felt that psychological alchemists, when serving as psychiatrists or clinical psychologists, might not be entirely safe, since the senior officials of the official bodies—such as the Watchers and the Sentinels—would likely be aware of the performance protocol and thus pay closer attention to this group. Madame Norma seemed satisfied with her answer, nodded gently and smiled. "Island and Alukarad are both excellent teachers." "Yes, perhaps I could consider hiring Miss Island as my private psychology tutor," Odile said, nodding politely. On a Sunday morning, after getting up, Caine noticed that several areas on the Beckland map placed on the coffee table in the living room had been circled, and these areas were not far from one another. So, he spent the morning carefully familiarizing himself with the surroundings, identifying the specific buildings and locating the nearest church. In the afternoon, after becoming free again, he went back to the Crag Club to practice his gun skills and extraordinary abilities. As soon as he entered the hall, he spotted Dr. Alan Cris, the surgeon, slowly making his way out of the cafeteria with a cane. Greeting him, Caine asked with concern, "Alan, how have you been? Has your fortune improved?" The naturally reserved Alan beamed with genuine pleasure. "At least, I'm not as unlucky as before!" "I followed your suggestion and went to church, telling the bishop about the matter. He asked me to go directly to the confessional and pray to the goddess." "During my prayers, I unexpectedly fell asleep—but I felt as though the goddess had granted me a state of calm and peace. Since then, my fortune has been steady!" "Let us praise the goddess!" He drew a crimson moon on his chest. Based on my experience, it was likely a Sequence 7 "Nightmare" that brought you into deep sleep, followed by a skilled night watcher swiftly setting up the altar and invoking the goddess to counteract your misfortune. Claine smiled gently. "This is truly wonderful!" At that moment, Allen glanced at him and said, "Sherlock, I've always thought your devotion to the Gods of Steam and Machinery falls short. Why not switch your faith? Look—here's my example. Embrace the goddess!"