West Zone, Carpentas Hotel. Fores took Lawrence into his room and helped him lie down on the bed. The hotel was fairly luxurious—thick, soft gray-yellow carpet covered every room except the bathrooms, and oil paintings of renowned artists adorned the walls. Lawrence took a deep breath and said, "Thank you, Miss Fores. Please forgive a dying man who cannot properly bow." "Not at all, Mr. Lawrence. Your condition has improved significantly. As a former practicing physician, I can confidently tell you that you will survive. Once you rest a while, we'll take you to the clinic or the hospital." Fores reassured him. Lawrence smiled and said, "I'm very aware of my own health condition. You don't need to comfort me. Moreover, I'm a part-time astrologer, and I've already sensed that I will die in Beckland, in this very hotel." Beyond the surface polish, everything he said was true. He was now near eighty, no longer the robust, spirited young man he once was. Without the bodily enhancements provided by the sequence elixirs, he might have been buried in some garden cemetery long ago. Originally, Laurence had believed he could live another decade. Yet, he had been struck down by a rebellion led by the former traveler, Butis, sustaining serious injuries during his ordeal at the Polar Circle. All of his descendants had perished in that catastrophe. This had dealt a severe blow, nearly knocking him off his feet. Then, his quest to find his two brothers and their descendants yielded only the news that they had already passed away—another significant blow to his spirit. Cumulatively, Laurence clearly sensed that his life was drawing to a close. His original plan was to go again to the graves of Lavoro and Anisa, leave a bouquet there, and then immediately return to meet with the other members of the elder family council to discuss the arrangements. But the condition of the elderly was such that they were quickly deteriorating. Before Folshe could speak, Lawrence struggled to pull out a notebook the size of a palm from the inner pocket of his half-opened garments. The notebook's hard cover was a deep copper green, giving off a very ancient impression. On its surface, in an ancient Fussac language, the words read: "I came, I saw, I recorded." Lawrence placed the notebook on the blanket at his chest and breathed deeply. "Madam Wol, if I pass away here, could you please deliver this notebook to Port Priz?" "Mr. Lawrence, you'll be all right," Folshe reassured him. At the same time, she unconsciously glanced at the notebook and noticed it was not thick at all—containing three different types of paper: one with a baked, crisp, golden-yellow hue, present in very small numbers; a second resembling brownish vellum, in moderate quantity; and the third, ordinary white paper, the most abundant. Laurence smiled weakly, saying, "I mean, if, Madam沃尔, you would be willing to help?" "Prizh Port isn't far—nothing more than a short journey. If time is of the essence, even with steam trains, I could make a round trip in half a day," Firth replied. Laurence exhaled, his spirits seeming to recover a little: "After my death, wait ten minutes, and from my body, retrieve a glowing object. Deliver both this notebook and the object to Dorian Gray of the Prizh Port Fishermen's Association. My wallet and the forty-two pounds inside are my payment and thanks. As for my clothing, let them accompany me as ashes." "No, you need to give me nothing at all. No, you won't have any trouble, Mr. Lawrence." Mrs. Firth spoke sincerely. As if he hadn't heard a word she said, Mr. Lawrence murmured to himself, "Perhaps Muriel will give you some additional rewards—though that will depend entirely on your own judgment. I have confidence in you; from the way you handled Anelisa, it's clear you're a good woman." Suddenly becoming alert, he turned to Mrs. Firth and said, "Madam Wool, could you please go down to the first floor and fetch a bottle of hot water? The waiter hasn't come yet." "Of course," Mrs. Firth replied, without pausing to think, took the water bottle, and stepped out of the room. After walking a few steps, she suddenly felt something was amiss—her water bottle felt heavy, clearly still containing a good amount of water. Just as she was about to turn back to ask, she suddenly became aware of a strong spiritual presence in the room. This... Fothergill stood there stunned, then suddenly grasped Mr. Lawrence's intention: as death drew near, he clearly sensed his bodily condition beginning to falter, fearing he would lose control and transform into a monster. He wished to die as a human, not as a monster, and thus chose to end his own life. It was a remarkable dignity in the final act of a true exceptional being. Of course, if he were to become a monster, all his arrangements would come to naught. Reflecting on these thoughts, Fothergill felt a deep sense of melancholy and stood outside, waiting nearly ten minutes before entering. She saw Mr. Lawrence lying motionless on the bed, appearing suddenly much older, with a diamond-sized "diamond" placed beside him. The light from the window streamed in, refracting continuously upon the "diamond," creating a scene of beauty reminiscent of starlight. Ah... Fothergill exhaled, carefully examined him, and found that Mr. Lawrence's cause of death was nothing extraordinary—merely a sudden cardiac arrest. ……… Quidwood District, 15 Minsk Street. After returning home, Caine rested a while and went to the Gray Mists to consult on Willy Ossington's matter. He had the crane made of thousand paper cranes rise from the clutter in the corner and settle onto the bronze long table before him, then removed the yellow crystal pendant wrapped around his sleeve. Holding the pendulum in his left hand, Caine used meditation to settle into a focused state, recalling the scenes he had witnessed in the trees outside the cemetery. While he might not have noticed every detail, his intuitive sense would surely have caught nothing overlooked—this reading primarily relied on that sensitivity, using the Gray Mists to filter out distractions. After preparing himself, Caine manifested a fresh sheet of vellum and inscribed the divinatory statement: "Willy Ossington has died completely." Then, he placed the crane beside the statement, nearly having the yellow crystal pendant brush against the words. After entering a meditative state and completing all steps of the "pendulum method," Cline opened his eyes to observe the result: the yellow crystal pendant was rotating counterclockwise, swiftly and with considerable amplitude. This indicated a negative. This meant that Will O'Connell had not died completely! This... Cline was both astonished and yet found it surprisingly plausible. He thought again and rephrased his question: "Is that body Will O'Connell's?" This time, the pendulum provided a positive indication. Indeed, that body belonged to Will O'Connell. Cline began to form a hunch and wrote down a new query: "Will O'Connell's body will revive." After a calm and diligent period of meditation, Cline received the revelation: The pendant was rotating counterclockwise, rapidly. This indicated that Will O'Connell's body would not revive—that is, it would not undergo a transformation into a corpse. It seems that Will. Aonsedt either actively or passively abandoned his former body, living on in a different way... Is this connected to the "Mercury Serpent"? Klein attempted to divinate other matters, but all efforts ended in failure, including the current state of Will. Aonsedt. However, when he repeated the previous divination using the "Dream Divination Method," asking specifically about Will. Aonsedt's current location, he still received a similar image: a dark room, the sound of flowing water. Yet, there was a subtle difference now. Well, it's pointless to waste time—I have no intention of getting involved. Klein folded the spirit pendulum and prepared to return to the real world. Through the divination just now and the various events that had occurred before, he had a vague hunch about Will. Aonsedt, though he couldn't confirm it. He now suspected that Will. Aonsedt might be another "Mercury Serpent." As Sequence 1, "Mercury's Serpent" is not unique—it can exist in up to three instances simultaneously! The "Mercury's Serpent," which wields the power to shape destiny, can effortlessly pinpoint the location of Allen's spirit body through the simple act of folding paper cranes, create false revelations for the other party, and with absolute certainty alter someone's fate with a single word. Will. Angstien has grown weak for reasons unknown, now under the threat of the second "Mercury's Serpent," and every action he takes is aimed at overcoming this threat. As for the reason behind their conflict, the answer is straightforward: without Sequence 0, three Sequence 1s can coexist simultaneously; but once Sequence 0 emerges, Sequence 1s no longer exist. This statement is truly revealed through the formula of the "Black Emperor." One of the key ingredients in that formula is the extraordinary nature of two "Slaying-of-Sequences Princes." The "Slaying-of-Sequences Princes" are precisely the Sequence 1s of the "Black Emperor" path. As a Sequence 1, to be promoted to Sequence 0, you must acquire all the extraordinary traits of the other two Sequence 1s on the same path! Precisely because of this assumption, Kline grew increasingly hesitant to become involved in Willy Ongenthein's affairs. If my assessment is correct, then it truly is a "heavenly clash"—unavoidable, unavoidable... Kline's spirit dimmed, and he vanished into the ancient palace shrouded in gray mist. ........ In the Queens District, within a house that isn't particularly prominent here, the gathering of extraordinary individuals convened by Mr. A took place as scheduled. Folshe and Hoo changed their attire, accompanying Count Glarinth, who wore a mask of iron black, into the hall and taking a seat at a convenient spot. Before the gathering officially began, Count Glarinth wrote down his requests for the serving staff and offered prayers to the goddess, hoping someone would respond in due course. Folshe, as usual, remained relaxed and, for the first time, donned a hood, using the shadow to conceal her face. She was reflecting on Mr. Lawrence. She was very clear about that "diamond" the size of a eye—what a remarkable trait he had left behind—but she couldn't at the moment determine which sequence it belonged to. The notebook, Folshe merely flipped through, and found that many pages remained blank, while the pages with content were filled with various strange, odd, and mysterious symbols and magical emblems that completely exceeded Folshe's knowledge. What they were didn't matter—what mattered was that she had to keep her promise. Folshe reminded herself of this. At that moment, the gentleman seated on the single sofa, with his hat dramatically tilted, spoke in a hoarse voice: "I have a task. 'I need you to find people who believe in the ' Fool.'" Ah? Folshe instantly returned to her thoughts.