Or streaking with a soft, golden glow, or blazing with brilliant flames, the bullets—one after another—pierced through the void, striking Steve, the Specter, right in the head. Thanks to the "Clown's" precise control over his body and his unwavering practice of gunmanship, Klein's six bullets, each infused with the "Divine Slash," landed precisely on the same area—exactly where the earlier two had struck! They struck like the fists of a giant of light, pounding repeatedly against Steve's left cheek! With a series of sharp thuds, Steve, caught by his strange arms and dark green vines, unable to phase or evade, kept tilting his head, his body trembling, his cheekbones rapidly collapsing and fracturing into sharp, white bone. Thud! The final bullet shattered the area completely, splashing out Steve's deep crimson blood, while the brilliant or golden flames surged inward, searing through and producing阵阵 waves of mist—deeply dark and bluish-gray. Within that sacred light, Steve's clothing caught fire, his body rapidly charred, dripping with oil. Yet he had not died! Compared to Rosagho, the Master of Secret Forms, the survival capabilities of the fifth-tier beings via the divergent path were clearly far superior. Nevertheless, under such heavy assault, Steve could no longer resist the strange, pulling arms. His legs struggled forward uncontrollably, as if he were soaring, hurling him toward the large bronze door, toward the deep, fissured gap, toward the pairs of eyes hidden in the darkness. At that moment, Sharon, perspiring on her forehead, suddenly clutched her right palm tightly. The ethereal, delicate glow abruptly ceased, and the mysterious bronze door, previously indescribable, lost its very essence. It wavered, reluctantly drawing back the arms—some toothed, others blood-streaked—before Steve entered, closing the gap. Clang! The door shut and swiftly became transparent, then vanished. Steve's body, leaning forward, remained rigid in place, his entire form blackened and shriveled, like a long-burned mummy—more so, resembling a carbonized wooden rod with only the faintest embers left. Sharon, clutching her right fist and supporting the "Deep Crimson Coronet," swiftly faded and stepped forward, overlapping with Steve. In Kline's spirit vision, Sharon vanished instantly, yet the blackened Steve raised both fists and slammed them hard against his already severely wounded head. Thwack! His head splattered into a pulp like a rotten tomato—first white spots surged upward, then cascaded outward. A semi-transparent silhouette emerged alongside the impact, rapidly spreading into a massive, jelly-like creature resembling a jellyfish, its internal liquid undulating, and a pair of pale, lifeless eyes gradually coalescing. Sharon was pushed back by this strange phenomenon and reappeared beside him. She suddenly extended her left hand forward, emitting a silent, piercing cry. The ground suddenly turned black, as if it had become a muddy abyss, from which a blood-colored vine surged upward, twisting and branching into multiple sections. Each section bore four sharp teeth and a single eye. This blood-colored vine rushed upward with frenzied vigor, swiftly anchoring the ethereal, jelly-like silhouette and greedily siphoning the unreal liquid within. The silhouette collapsed rapidly, and the vine retracted back into the muddy abyss. Yet, thanks to this delay, the headless, charred Steve began to move—crossing the open space, rushing toward the exit. He had not yet perished completely, despite having lost his head! As Steve took just a few steps, a crisp sound suddenly broke the stillness of the air. Pop! Caine, dressed in a black double-breasted suit and wearing a matching half-high hat, stood facing him and snapped his fingers. Boom! The soil beneath Steve’s feet was violently uprooted, and a surge of crimson flame erupted. It spread upward, reaching its peak before flowing gracefully downward, like a beautiful plume of smoke. Within this plume, Steve's body—his spirit of resentment—was completely shattered into four or five fragments. Blackened hands, feet, organs, and flesh scattered across the ground; one finger rolled to the edge of Caine's foot, while the brown, translucent "biological toxin bottle" landed in a different direction. The remnants of Steve's final form twitched a few times before finally settling into stillness. Amidst the blazing light and this scene, Caine felt his spirit grow more vibrant, and the forces within him that still didn't fully belong to him drew closer, aligning slightly. Following this sensation, he transferred his gun to his left hand, took off his silk hat—half-high, silk, and worn with black gloves—placed it upon his chest, and bowed slightly toward Sharon, offering a formal salute. Sharon's blue eyes met his. Her gaze passed over Caine and settled on the two "werewolves," Tael and Marijch, still engaged in combat at the back. Sarlen vanished from sight, and at once, Tael's eyes reflected her form. Tael stood motionless, his black fur standing rigidly on end. He struggled to raise his arms, pressing them against his head. Crack! With a firm twist, he saw the vertebrae revealed beneath his torn garments. Pop! Tael twisted and pulled again, tearing his head free from his body! Throughout the entire process, he made no cry, uttered no word. Holding his severed head aloft, he allowed the blood to drip steadily, while the lifeless body remained upright and motionless. Sarlen did not immediately depart from Tael's body; instead, she seemed to be attempting something. Soon, a faint emerald-green glow began to emerge within Tael's head and body, rapidly coalescing around one of his tusk-like teeth as a core. It seemed that Miss Sharlen had a way of accelerating the manifestation of extraordinary traits—provided she possessed the host, had killed the original, and fully controlled the body. With a moment of clarity, Caine bent down to gather the scattered cartridge casings, carefully placing several of them into the iron square box. He feared that subsequent investigators, noticing the casings' unusual characteristics, would identify the "craftsman," trace the purchase of the "Barbarian" and "Bribe-Taker" formulas, and thus pinpoint the gathering of the "Eye of Wisdom," thereby threatening his own safety. As for the bullets, they had long since been offered as sacred materials, sacrificed to the corresponding deities within the light of sanctity and flame. After setting down his revolver, Caine was about to take his first step when Sharlen suddenly appeared beside the "Biological Toxin Bottle" with a dramatic flourish, causing it to float effortlessly and settle gently into her palm. Before Klein could think of anything else, the pale woman gave her wrist a sudden shake, tossing toward him a brown, translucent bottle and a black-green tooth. ...To save time, could you help me collect these spoils? Klein paused, instinctively drawing a sheet of paper and shielding the two items without making direct contact. At that moment, in his vision, Sharon's elaborate black court gown, once neat and composed, now gently swayed in the wind, and several strands of her light-gold hair, clinging to her cheeks, gave her a more human appearance. Hmm... this "biological toxin bottle" comes with a lid—though he wasn't sure about any adverse effects. Klein bent down, examining his spoils carefully, and resealed the "biological toxin bottle" with the black lid hanging nearby, to prevent it from continuing to affect him. As for the black-green tooth, it was precisely the extraordinary trait left behind by the "werewolf" Tael. While克莱恩 carefully placed the two items into a small iron box, using Saint's Night powder to create a spiritual wall that sealed their influence on the surrounding area, he kept a watchful eye on Sharon's fading form, observing Steve's remaining flesh slowly pulsing and releasing nearly translucent light points. He remained alert to Mariichi as well, wary of any sudden outburst of madness. In this vigilance, he was struck by the astonishing regenerative power of the "living corpse"—the deep, bone-revealing wounds he had just seen had now largely healed! Mariichi also exchanged a thoughtful glance with him, as though recalling something, understanding something. After completing his tasks,克莱恩 walked several steps, first gathering the square iron box unearthed by the living corpse and the shadows, then locating the Azkian copper whistle and the universal key, each supported by clusters of human-shaped "candles." He glanced at them, feeling awkward, and found himself unable to reach for them. The effect of the "Deep Crimson Coronet" was still radiating across this space! — This was his pre-set final fallback, the very last resort he had no choice but to adopt. For this purpose, he had specifically taken time off to visit the morgue of the hospital, observing what the corpses would do once they acquired the Azk copper whistle, thus establishing the corresponding procedures. “Hmm, can we halt the effects of the ‘Deep Crimson Moon Crown’?” Kline turned to look at Sharon, who had now materialized again. She now held a semi-transparent doll in her hand. Sharon said nothing; instead, she placed the ‘Deep Crimson Moon Crown’ she had been holding onto her chest. The ring of crimson stones quickly dimmed, and the full moon’s radiance faded away on this once-abandoned plot of land. Only then did Kline bend down, using his fingertips to grasp the circular ring, lifting the Azk copper whistle and the universal key, and swiftly placing them into the square iron box with the dented and scarred indentation, sealing it tightly. Meanwhile, Marijch circled around, attending to the scene. Sharon picked up the small black soft hat and, first fading into indistinctness, then materializing before Caine. "The *Book of Secrets* is in your guest room," she said calmly. That is, no matter the final outcome, as long as I make it back alive, I'll receive some compensation—far from a wasted effort... Caine smiled gently and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your generosity." "Official Exceptional Ones may arrive any moment—we should be leaving." Sharon nodded. "Would you like any assistance?" "No," Caine chuckled. "I still have quite a few cigarettes to place." As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Boom! Boom! Boom! The remaining bombs exploded one after another, sending up plumes of flame. They gathered around the largest and most prominent one at the central position, glowing dreamlike and radiant. Sarahn’s gaze was instinctively drawn for a moment—when she looked again, Caine’s figure was already gone, leaving only a beam of fire slowly fading. Beyond the open space, curving slightly northwest to avoid a direct encounter with official extraordinary beings, matchsticks were one after another lit, flames rising crimson and then swiftly extinguished. Caine’s form repeatedly emerged within these flames, leaping and moving steadily away from the Westbarn Dock. Then, he produced a specially prepared essence, applied it to his face, and gently wiped it off with a sheet of paper, removing all the paint. *Crack!* He shook his wrist, and the paper burned to ash. Next, he picked up the staff hidden nearby, adjusted his clothing, and walked out onto the street like an ordinary person. Not long after, Caine arrived at a church named: “The Lever Church.” Since many faithful are not wealthy and often cannot rest on Sundays, and are extremely busy during the daytime, the churches remain open until late at night, allowing most of them the opportunity to pray and confess. Klein looked up, tapped the stone steps with the black cane in his hand, and stepped inside. He intended to stay here and avoid the upcoming screening of the surrounding crowd. ……… A few minutes later, a small unit of "Heart of Mechanism" arrived on the open ground enclosed by the abandoned warehouses. They came in a group of five, each carrying different extraordinary weapons, yet were visibly puzzled by the scene—seemingly plowed over—frowning as they surveyed the area. They settled into a serious and focused search for clues. ……… Inside the Lever Church. Although it was still before 11 a.m., the number of people present was not small, yet none of them spoke. The prayer hall was so serene and holy that one felt compelled not to disturb its quiet. Klein sat in a chair near the aisle in the third row, leaning his black cane forward and removing his half-high silk hat. Dressed in a black double-breasted dinner suit, he held his hands together at his chest, resting his chin upon them, his eyes closed, facing the triangular holy emblem at the front with an exceptionally calm expression.