This—isn't this making things difficult for me? Upon hearing Alan's request, Caelin nearly reached out to draw a crimson moon on his chest, but ultimately restrained himself, responding to him with serious gravity: "Perhaps certain aspects of my behavior have led you to misunderstand me. But I must emphasize that faith is a matter once decided, and it never changes." Alan immediately raised both arms, making an apologetic gesture: "I'm sorry—I misjudged your devotion. I shouldn't have taken your faith for granted." "Then, differing faiths need not hinder our friendship." Caelin set aside the expression he had been carefully masking, and smiled: "That statement holds true in Fosk and Feneport—they can only accept one faith. In contrast, due to the coexistence of multiple churches for over a thousand years, Roon and Intis have remained far more open-minded in this regard." Before Alan could answer, he casually shifted the topic. "Have you seen Will Osgood since then? The one whose leg was amputated, the boy who said your luck would worsen." He believed the night watcher would surely follow up on Alan's lead, so he was curious—curious whether it was the boy who had changed Alan's fortune, or perhaps the tarot cards he held. "No," Alan shook his head firmly. "I haven't seen him since he was discharged." Indeed, it was a pity—the night watcher could track him down using the hospital records, while I couldn't just step in without knowing more. Perhaps the boy had already moved. After a few casual exchanges with Alan, Kline decided to head down to the underground range to get familiar with the left-handed revolver included as part of the package. At that moment, two familiar faces entered the room. One was Mrs. Mary, a member of the Kingdom's Air Pollution Investigation Committee and a shareholder of Coym Company, the other was Mrs. Staline Summer, Klein's landlady. Both wore lighter, more casual dresses, appearing noticeably younger. According to the club's rules, each member could bring only one guest, so Mary's maid and her specially hired security guard were left in the reception hall. Klein greeted them politely, nodded, and remarked with courteous appreciation: "Madams, you are as always beautifully dressed, though your beauty today is different from your usual charm." Mary, having recently interacted with many prominent figures, smiled slightly. "Rossel once said that life is about movement. Staline, however, has always stayed at home, managing the daily details, and even when she goes out, she only attends galas and opera performances. Her health has declined significantly. That's why I've brought her here to play tennis and squash." With a higher forehead, she glanced and spotted a member of the lower house and two representatives from the Beckland region chatting in the corner. Turning her head slightly to Starlin, she said, "I've met some acquaintances. I'll go say hello; you can head to the library and wait for me." "Very well." Starlin looked noticeably more attractive than Mary, yet she remained quite respectful and composed in the presence of the lady. Once Mary had walked a few paces away, she slightly lifted her chin and looked at Kline. "Mr. Moriaty, you've seemed quite busy lately, haven't you?" "Yes, I've been collaborating with several detectives to assist the police in investigating the series of murders. We've made some contributions and have received several rewards." Kline answered honestly. Starlin reached up to cover her mouth. "Really?" "Could you tell me what the murderer looks like? Why did he choose to target these women? The newspaper reports have been quite vague." "I'm sorry, but I must adhere to confidentiality." Klein found a convenient excuse. He couldn't simply tell her that it had a sleek, black coat, a smooth and glossy tail, and preferred to run on all fours—well, he muttered under his breath. Starlin nodded with a touch of regret, then asked with genuine curiosity, "So, how much did you earn?" "Shared among many of us," Klein replied without directly stating the figure. "Any fifty pounds?" Starlin pressed. "Yes," Klein nodded honestly. Starlin Summer beamed, "You're earning more than I expected—you're truly a capable detective." "No, such things are rare, happening only once or twice in several years," Klein shook his head with a smile. "Regardless, you've clearly proven your abilities." "Staeline's eyes twinkled as she said, 'Next Sunday, Luke and I will be hosting a dinner party at our home. I'd be delighted if you could come—though I apologize, this is quite sudden. I'll have my housemaid deliver the invitations personally. By the way, there will be quite a few unmarried ladies in attendance, whose parents or guardians hold respectable professions and whose households earn over 200 pounds annually. Some of them also work part-time at home, such as secretarial positions. They're all very accomplished women.' This is a matchmaking dinner party, isn't it? Mrs. Staeline has recognized my ability to earn a living as a detective, so she's now planning to introduce me to some single women. Yet, in her eyes, I'm only suitable for women of this level? Klein instantly went through a series of thoughts, but considering the importance of maintaining good neighborhood relations and the inconvenience of preparing dinner, he smiled and agreed: 'If there's no urgent matter, I'll make it a point to attend.' " "Staline smiled warmly and said, 'Then I'll be looking forward to your visit, Luke.' Without further delay, she bid farewell and entered the small library within the club, while Caine methodically practiced his shooting and extraordinary abilities within a closed, compact range. At 9 p.m., Caine sat at his desk, watching the crimson moon in the sky gradually pierce through the clouds, revealing itself as no longer waning. A soft, flowing crimson 'gauze' gently spread out, and time passed steadily. By just past 10 p.m., he heard a layered, ethereal plea. Without needing to identify it, Caine knew it must be the 'Magician' lady's call for help. He swiftly closed the curtains, extinguished the lights, stepped backward four paces into the gray mist, and reached out to touch the deep crimson star, which was continuously contracting and expanding. Instantly, the form of Folshe appeared faintly and indistinct on the chair bearing the symbol of 'layered gates' behind him." She exhaled, rose, and bowed. "Respected Sir Fool, you've saved me once again." "This is nothing to be particularly concerned about," replied Kline in a tone as soft and gentle as a cloud drifting in a light breeze. Folth was momentarily struck silent, then settled back into her seat. Reflecting on what had just transpired, she found herself hesitating, and Kline, mindful of his own demeanor, did not volunteer any further conversation. Within the majestic palace, towering like a giant's dwelling, silence swiftly became the dominant theme. When Folth regained her composure, she suddenly felt the atmosphere pressing down on her, somewhat stifling and uncomfortable. During the gathering, there were still Miss Justice and Mr. World, and they never seemed to mind the quiet. Now, however, it was just me and Sir Fool—what should I do? The pressure is overwhelming! I must speak. I *must* speak. I can't just sit here like a simple, awkward guest... After all, it's Sir Fool! He probably doesn't even notice, but I'm so nervous, so constrained! Forsyth suddenly regained the sense of being alone with her superior that she had when she first entered the workplace. Although not a spectator, Kaine clearly noticed the lady's hesitation and unease, and thus smiled and said, "Perhaps you could tell me how you became a非凡者." For instance, how you obtained the "apprentice" formula and that necklace... Kaine quietly added the deeper intent behind his questions. Forsyth relaxed slightly and recalled, "That was nearly three years ago, when I graduated from the Beckland Medical School." "With my father's help, I secured a well-regarded private clinic—ah, my father has now settled in East Bayland." "Since the safe trade routes to the Southern Continent were discovered, young nobles from the kingdom have begun spreading their footsteps across every corner of that region. My father, as a junior officer, went to Eastern Baylant, chasing wealth and power, while my mother and I remained in Becland, living a life of widowhood and fatherless sorrow—laughing, really, as we often didn’t receive a letter from abroad for several months. This situation is not uncommon throughout the kingdom. I know an elderly gentleman who has five children—some in the island groups, others in Western Baylant, in the Pas Valley, or on the Hagaith Plains—each of them having built their own careers, established families, and amassed wealth, yet having forgotten that there was still a father waiting patiently for their return." "When I was attending grammar school, my mother fell seriously ill. I could only watch her pass away on a hospital bed, while my father didn't write me a letter for a full month. In that letter, he informed me that he had established a new family in Dong Bailang and welcomed a new life into his home. He transferred all the property from Beckland to me and also gave me an additional sum of money. I believe he felt some sense of regret." As a best-selling novelist, Fores has mastered the art of meandering and elaborating at ease. Kline sat quietly, listening attentively, without offering a single word. Phew. Firth exhaled and continued, "To sum up, my father introduced me to the Yusef Clinic through the retired officers' club, and the salary there is indeed quite generous—so I've been doing fairly well. Still, I've felt a bit anxious about the future, which is why I've been diligently learning from the senior doctors, saving money, until I met an elderly woman who frequently visits the clinic." "She's lonely, childless, and her partner passed away ten years ago. I've always felt a sense of sympathy for her and often talk to her, spend time chatting with her." "One day, I was astonished to discover that she could actually walk through walls—this opened up a whole new world for me." "The woman mentioned this was a legacy left by her husband. She vaguely recalled that, as long as it wasn't someone from her family, there seemed to be no curse." "Not long after, she grew critically ill and near to passing away, and she asked if I would like to become someone like her. At that time, I was young, full of dreams and aspirations, and I readily agreed without hesitation. She gave me a formula and instructed me to remain with her body after her death, collecting any luminous objects that would suddenly appear—this became my inheritance, the primary ingredient for the potion. She also gave me this bracelet, telling me not to use it until the most critical moment, and to not pay too much attention to the moon's murmurs. Unfortunately, I could not avoid peril and used it once, after which the moon's murmurs grew significantly severe. It seems she was the widow of one of the Abraham's descendants—she had proven through her own experience that the 'curse' resided only within the bloodline. Klein nodded gently. 'When you become a high-tier strong one, those murmurs will no longer have much effect.' 'I hope so.' Although Folsen didn't believe she could become a high-tier strong one, she trusted Mr. The Fool. ...It was another Monday. As Klein just got out of bed and headed downstairs, he spotted a spread-out sheet on the coffee table in the living room, bearing a brief message: "Effective." That's good...Klein immediately breathed a sigh of relief. By 2:45 p.m., he arrived on time at Gray Mist Above, to prepare for the next Tarot gathering.