"1, 2, 3, 4, 5… it seems as though there are twelve pairs of wings… According to the various ecclesiastical texts, this is the highest rank of angels…" Folshe struggled to recall the images she had seen half-asleep, feeling both astonished and yet not entirely surprised—like encountering something that had always seemed obvious to her, yet which she had never before actually experienced. It was no surprise at all that the Sir of the Fool was attended by angels; one could already imagine this from the way the Lady of Justice and the Sir of the Tower occasionally used "Him" to refer to the divine presence, and from the fact that He was able to insulate himself from the full moon's murmurs. But my simple request—merely to disrupt Lord Lawrence's divination—had prompted Him to directly bestow angelic protection upon me. That, that seems extravagant! Or is this simply a routine practice for Him? Well, there's one more question: why are the feathers on the angels' wings black? Does that symbolize fall or death? What exactly is the true nature of the Sir of the Fool? Who is this great being? The one famed to have fallen during the "Age of Pale Light"—the Death? Does He intend to revive Himself through the Tarot gatherings? Folsom suddenly took a deep breath, no longer concerned at all that the gentleman named Lawrence might use divination to uncover his own issues. She thought of having joined the Tarot circle, smiled faintly, and murmured silently, "We can only proceed as Lord Roscel said—step by step, see what unfolds." Gathering her thoughts, Folsom once again humbly thanked the "Magus of the Fool," then followed the customary ritual, extinguishing the flames of the three candles and attending to the altar laden with various objects. Set down his pen, Caine stacked Daisy's word notebook with the sheets containing the divination phrases in his left hand. Then, leaning against the back of the chair and entering a meditative state, he silently repeated the phrase "Daisy's current situation" over and over again. After seven repetitions, Caine fell asleep, first seeing a dark red blur, then a hazy gray. A series of images flashed before him—some flowing smoothly, others jumping abruptly, some lacking any clear sequence. He saw the young girl, Liv's daughter, who, despite being repeatedly scalded by steam, still persisted in ironing clothes, being forcibly pulled from behind by a man wearing a thick jacket and a gray-black baseball cap, who covered her mouth with a handkerchief and guided her into a side alley. Another man, dressed similarly, grasped her legs and, together with his companion, lifted her up, moving swiftly. Their destination was the horse-drawn carriage parked outside the alley. The entire process was over in less than two minutes. When Freya, Daisy's sister, turned around to find her here, the carriage had already departed. ... Inside the carriage, Daisy was dazed and unconscious, her face pressed firmly against a cold, sharp dagger, her ears filled with crude threats. ... The carriage arrived at the luxurious villa of Capin. ... Daisy found herself in a small, dark room, where intermittent cries, screams, and curses from women echoed outside. ... Daisy regained consciousness and shouted for help, only to be knocked down by a kick from the doorkeeper, unable to rise. She wept, repeatedly calling out the words "Mother," "Freya." ... Cain opened his eyes and noticed that the paper in his left hand had been crumpled tightly by his own grip. He now firmly believed that Capin was the mastermind behind numerous missing girls cases and that he was the head of a criminal organization. Yet the issue is that such a case should—not necessarily—involve any particularly powerful or extraordinary forces. At most, a few sequence-7 or sequence-8, or even sequence-9 extraordinary individuals driven by financial motives might assist. It would hardly be enough to make Caine feel an immediate, intense sense of danger simply upon approaching the villa. Could Captain Karp himself be an extraordinary individual of sequence-6, or even sequence-5? After all, extraordinary individuals at that level find it relatively easy to earn a living; there's no need to engage in such messy, labor-intensive work. They could simply bring in various crime syndicates, collect protection fees from them one by one, and achieve the same result with greater ease and without compromising their own integrity. Could there be a deeper strategy at play behind Karp's human trafficking venture? While pondering this, Caine used the power of the gray mist to restore Daisy’s word notebook to a neat, orderly state. After a moment of silence, he manifested another sheet of vellum and inscribed a new divinatory statement: “Saving Daisy will be a perilous undertaking.” After carefully reviewing it twice, Caine removed the pendulum from his left wrist, allowing the yellow crystal pendant to hang gently upon the paper, nearly touching the line of words. He calmed himself for several seconds, then closed his eyes and silently recited the divinatory phrases he had just written. When the sound ceased, Caine opened his eyes and looked at the pendulum held in his left hand. The yellow crystal pendant was now rotating clockwise—swiftly and with considerable amplitude! This indicated a clear affirmation: saving Daisy would indeed be a highly dangerous undertaking. Yet it was not entirely hopeless—there was a significant possibility, a substantial opportunity, as long as it could be seized. Caine interpreted the insights offered by the "pendulum method." Leaning back against the chair back, he closed his eyes again and chuckled to himself with a touch of self-mockery: "Didn't I just come here seeking an opportunity to take the stage? This is it!" "As a magician, one must ultimately embrace some high-stakes challenges. Otherwise, one would be called a master of tricks, not a true magician." "Completing seemingly impossible feats—even if the outcome turns out to be false—that's how I envision a magician, though whether this is one of the core principles remains to be confirmed..." Caine lightly tapped the edge of the ancient long table and quickly made his decision. Saving Daisy and handling Cardin were currently the most challenging aspects, primarily because he knew little about either of them, and had no clear understanding of how many extraordinary individuals resided in the villa, nor which pathways or sequences they belonged to. This lack of information made it impossible for Caine to prepare targeted strategies. For a true magician, the first principle is simply: "Never perform without preparation!"—many performances that appear spontaneous are, in fact, the result of careful rehearsal and refined techniques, such as mastering the art of drawing attention away. "By the name of the Devoted, let's have 'Justice' Lady assist in gathering information about Cardin?" Caine seriously considered the course of action to resolve the issue. But he quickly rejected this approach: "No, this would not yield detailed information. Although Karping is a wealthy man connected to many prominent figures, he remains largely off the radar. Miss Justice might be able to uncover which nobles, members of parliament, or government employees he has close ties with, but she would never be able to determine how many extraordinary individuals reside in his villa, what traps have been laid there, or the overall layout and structure. Following these connections and leads, Miss Justice might take several weeks to gather the information I need—too slow. Saving lives would then be like putting out a fire; any delay could prove catastrophic." Klein's eyes swept across the surface of the bronze long table, then over the cluttered corners, and gradually took shape in his mind: "On one hand, I'll have the 'Sorceress' lady and her friend, Miss Hux, investigate Captain Kappin's background, uncovering his connections with various extraordinary individuals. They have strong networks in the East District, among many crime families, and within numerous circles of the extraordinary. On the other hand, I'll take the initiative myself—gather information from the servants or bodyguards who have just come out of Kappin's villa, using my 'clairvoyant' method." Once the plan was settled, Klein didn't immediately ask the 'Sorceress' lady for assistance. He decided to try it himself first, so that he could then specifically direct her inquiries. In an instant, his figure vanished within the majestic palace shrouded in gray mist. ........ After lunch, a man wearing a gray-black baseball cap and a thick coat carefully stepped out of the back entrance of Kappin's villa, walked to the intersection, and boarded a hired carriage. "East District," he said, running his fingers over the dark red birthmark on his face, giving instructions to the coachman. The carriage began to move, and the man idly gazed out the window, admiring the well-dressed ladies and young women passing by. "If only I could carry them off..." he thought, expressing a quiet sense of regret. After passing beyond Aries Street, he suddenly shivered, his eyes growing slightly dazed. He tapped the coach wall and said to the driver, "Stop. Stop! I've forgotten something—I need to be here." The driver, unwilling to challenge the stern man, neither complained nor murmured, simply halted the carriage at the roadside and allowed him to alight. After paying six pence, the man retreated several dozen meters and entered a modest inn. He checked in without needing any identification, paying for a room. Once inside, he only half-drew the door shut, leaving it unlocked. Then, with a composed expression, he sat down at the edge of the bed, and suddenly, a translucent, ethereal figure began to separate from his body! That's precisely how Klein, dressed as a worker, appears! He summoned himself into a spiritual form, attaching to this man so that he could now be in a convenient location for "spirit communication." After knocking the man unconscious, the ethereal Klein vanished from the room, only to reappear a short while later—solid flesh and blood—walking in through the doorway. With a spiritual wall sealing the space, Klein swiftly arranged the "spirit communication" ritual, allowing the delicate, enchanting scents of "Amande" essence and "Eyes of the Spirit" potion to drift throughout the room. Ready to begin, he was about to initiate the ritual when he paused suddenly, exclaiming, "Ah!" He noticed that the spiritual essence of the man lying unconscious on the bed was constrained by an unknown, mysterious force. If he forced the spirit communication now, though success was likely, it would activate certain imprints, alerting a special being—thus, disturbing the very calm he had worked so hard to maintain! Such an extraordinary ability—so cautious, so careful... The matters involving Cardin are truly not simple at all. Kline walked a few paces, his brow slightly furrowed. He glanced at the unconscious man and then chuckled: "Do you think this will stump me?" He swiftly interrupted the spirit communication ritual, then summoned himself anew, responding to his own call. A few seconds later, the ethereal version of himself emerged from the candlelight and floated once more within the room. Without hesitation, the spirit form of Kline surged forward and touched the unconscious man. The man suddenly sat up, opened his eyes, and looked dazed. Standing straight, he took slow steps toward the altar, then murmured: "Oh, the fool of a time unaccounted for;" "You are the mysterious sovereign above the mist;" "You are the King of Good Fortune, of yellow and black."