In the Woodside district, in the house where Hugh and Firth were renting. Firth had just finalized the opening chapter of her new book and was in a good mood, ready to treat herself to a cigarette. At that moment, Hugh pushed open the door and entered the study. "Smoking is bad for your health," he said, drawing a breath. Noticing Firth's expression of mild confusion, she didn't argue further, but instead asked, "You seem to have something on your mind?" Hugh ran a hand through her coarse golden hair and sat down on the chair beside her. "Someone contacted me earlier—this person who, at the gathering convened by Mr. A, had passed on the 'Sheriff's' recipe to me through a third party. "He gave me a fairly straightforward assignment, with an initial payment of thirty pounds. I'm just not sure whether there's any hidden danger involved..." Firth reflected briefly. "That person—well, he must have been part of an organization. But why would he want to bring you in, risking your intelligence and potentially bringing down the entire organization?" You don't really have much to offer, really—your looks are only passable, and you're rather short. Perhaps only your life is worth anything... Hmm, what about the mission?" Rest had long grown used to being undermined by his friends, so he simply brushed off her earlier remarks and answered the question at the end: "Investigate who's recently inquired about Captain Carpin." "Carpin? The man who should have been hanged, no, executed by fire?" Though not a bounty hunter, Folveth had the instinct of a writer when it came to gathering information, so she often asked Rest to recount his observations and hearsay. Rest nodded. "Yes, it's him—though he's already dead, and apparently quite badly." "How did he die? Was it by being slowly cut to pieces with a small knife?" Folveth asked, clearly delighted and curious. "The man didn't go into much detail—perhaps tomorrow's newspaper will have more to say on it." "Pausing for two seconds, he said, 'He only mentioned the special circumstances at the scene—Cardin's body was scattered with tarot cards, and his face covered by the 'Judgment' card and the 'Emperor' card.' 'The 'Judgment' card clearly means 'Cardin is being judged and sentenced to death.' What does the 'Emperor' card signify? Does it point to the identity of the murderer, or rather, the hero?' The best-selling author, Firth, instinctively interpreted the unique arrangement at the scene. Suddenly, she paused. Tarot cards? The body scattered with tarot cards? Firth immediately recalled the secret organization she had recently joined—the Tarot Circle! Could it be one of our own members? But there's no member with the designation 'Emperor'... If indeed it is, this is the first time I've ever seen tangible traces of the Tarot Circle in the real world. We are not merely a secret organization existing only in the misty haze. Firth's thoughts surged with both excitement and concern. ……… Caine entered the familiar sitting room, guided by the servant. Only one candle remained, its soft, yellow glow casting the room like a scene from a ghost story. With the mysterious figures in black robes, each wearing iron masks, the atmosphere grew even more intense. As soon as he stepped inside, Caine suddenly felt an inexplicable sensation. He sensed the flickering candle flame watching him. He felt as though the flame would burst out, engulfing his hair and cloak. He believed the curtain hanging quietly behind the bulging window would suddenly ripple, sweeping over him and covering his mouth and nose, suffocating him. What on earth? Caine was stunned, his nerves tightly stretched. This wasn't a sense of danger, yet it was an undeniable, inescapable intuition. Caine sat down carefully, choosing a spot. As soon as his buttocks made contact with the chair's surface, he felt as though the chair would suddenly burst open, its thick wooden spines piercing through his body. This reminded him of several videos he had watched on Earth—poor-quality pressurized reclining chairs exploding, steel rods and fragments stabbing into the occupant's buttocks and drilling all the way into their abdomen, leaving the scene bloodied and gruesome. Why did these unpleasant associations always arise? Was it the lingering negative impact from the spiritual injuries he had sustained during previous battles? Klein pondered silently, noticing that the plump pharmacist had still not arrived. What was going on? Had she already left for Beckland? Klein murmured these thoughts to himself, then heard the elder of "The Eye of Wisdom" announce the gathering had begun. For the rest of the time, Crane occasionally felt as though the chandelier above the ceiling were tilting and would suddenly drop, crashing into his head; at other times, he believed the side table before the elderly gentleman known as the "Eye of Wisdom" would suddenly shift sideways, tripping him up; and at times, he suspected that the guests around him were full of malice, poised to erupt at any moment. This left him restless, alert yet puzzled, completely unable to focus on the various deals—some successful, others faltering. If the occasional tremor of a sense of danger were like a gentle vibration, signaling an incoming message or a phone call on a smartphone, then these current inexplicable intuitions felt more like a continuously operating drill—constantly vibrating, so intense that he could hardly relax or attend to anything else. Crane tried to rub his temple, but his fingers met only the cold iron mask. In that instant, he felt as though the iron mask would suddenly indent, pressing firmly against his face, and then seamlessly integrate itself into his brain. Was it truly due to the spirit's injury, giving rise to these illusions? Crane furrowed his brow. He had originally intended to make a request at the gathering for the procurement of the altered pituitary gland and blood of the Thousand-Faced Hunter, but given the current circumstances, he could only proceed with caution and abandon the plan. ——Although the gathering organized by the esteemed "Eye of Wisdom" gentleman was of a relatively modest level and unlikely to involve more advanced beings such as the Thousand-Faced Hunter, Caine believed that many of the attendees participated in other gatherings, potentially gaining access to relevant information and leads. With growing apprehension, Caine observed the event as a passive participant. As soon as he removed his robe and took off his mask, leaving the room, that peculiar, inexplicable sensation—where everyone and everything seemed to be relentlessly persecuting him—disappeared entirely, vanishing mysteriously! This... Caine's eyes narrowed slightly, confirming that the phenomenon he had just experienced was not due to injury to his spiritual essence, otherwise he would not have been able to experience such a divergence between his internal and external states. He suspected that within the living room where the gathering was held, there existed a person or entity invisible and undetectable—something profoundly terrifying—that had subtly stirred the intuitive instincts of a "seer" and the dangerous foreboding of a "clown" within himself. Yet, due to the presence or unique nature of that entity, the stimulation manifested not as a clear alert but as a richly layered series of associations, failing to fully awaken his awareness. Who could it be? Was it truly that terrifying—merely existing, and already evoking a sense akin to the prelude of losing control? Caine moved silently away from the elder gentleman's house known as the "Eye of Wisdom," and began walking toward the nearest street. Suddenly, a thought came to him: This area is home to the "Brave Ones" tavern—where I, Miss Sharon, and Marič had previously slain the spectral figures, Steve and others, who were responsible for monitoring the surrounding region. Their deaths would surely provoke anger in that high-ranking, rose-school strength, drawing their attention here—to the extraordinary individuals active in the vicinity of the "Brave Ones" tavern. Was that the one? Fortunately, I used items such as the "Biotoxin Bottle" and the "Solar Brooch" tonight, and left them atop the gray mist to avoid being detected by the divination... Otherwise, the outcome would have been unimaginable—after completing an impossible performance, the "magician" would have perished right here. The world of the extraordinary truly is perilous... "Your Grace, this remains under investigation; we have employed extraordinary measures to gather clues, yet all have proven futile." The队长 of the Delegation of Penalties spoke with evident apprehension. "I've tried as well," said Cardinal Snake, without blaming him. The senior figure of the Storm Church paused momentarily and added, "Keep pursuing this matter, and also find that ghost—either from Sequence 6 or Sequence 5." Once the subordinates had departed, Cardinal Snake picked up his pen and jotted down several names requiring close attention: "Kapin, population trade, Tarot ritual, an unusual ghost of relatively low sequence, veiled intentions." In fact, she wasn't particularly curious about who Captain Carew was—she simply went along with her father, who clearly wanted to engage in conversation. This was both her daughter's strength and the instinct of a true empath. "A wealthy man who might secretly be a human trafficker—well, he has good connections with certain people. Hm..." Lord Hall chuckled. "He was murdered last night, with clear signs of a judicial trial. Every newspaper refers to the killer as a noble thief, the noble thief 'Black Emperor.' By the way, that's a title derived from the ancient rulers of the Kingdom of Solomon." A noble thief? The noble thief 'Black Emperor'? 'Black Emperor'... Audrey instantly recalled the card currently belonging to the 'Fool,' the most sophisticated object she had encountered so far. She suddenly became deeply interested in Captain Carew's murder: "That sounds fascinating, though it's not exactly legal. Still, I must say, that noble thief executed a truly elegant performance. Um, Father, could you tell me more about the process?" "The police and church officials have not disclosed specific details, and I haven't yet met with either of them. As reported in the newspapers, the robber wore a black armor, crowned with a dark crown, and trailed a black cloak. He entered Captain Carp's villa, not only stealing all the valuables from the safe but also taking the lives of Captain Carp and his corrupt subordinates, rescuing the young women imprisoned in the dungeon. He scattered tarot cards all over Captain Carp's body, with the most prominent ones—two placed directly on his face: one representing 'Judgment,' the other 'Emperor.'" Lord Holbe smiled while holding the newspaper. "Tarot cards... 'Judgment' and 'Emperor'..." Audrey's eyes suddenly brightened. PS: Preview for next chapter—"What? The safe?" Klein stared at the newspaper, nearly dropping it.