Crack! Klein saw the back of Esgaroth-Stanton sink noticeably, feeling a dull ache spreading through his own spine. Thump—Esgaroth, already leaning forward, collapsed to the ground, as though he had momentarily lost all sensation. Kaslanara stood motionless, breathing heavily, her brow beaded with cold sweat, her eyes wide and vacant, with no further attack to follow. She seemed as though she had just woken from a long, emotionally charged nightmare, her strength completely drained by the outburst. Huff, huff—Kaslanara's body swayed, and she was on the verge of collapsing. Klein narrowed his eyes, took two swift steps, and reached beside Esgaroth-Stanton. He knelt down, reaching to support him. Esgaroth, lying there, cried out in pain: "Flee! Don't bother with me!" It was clearly evident that he didn't believe a trio—already severely wounded and one weakened—could hold off the "Desire Apostles" any longer, so he ordered Caine to immediately evacuate and rendezvous with the official extraordinary beings, otherwise all three would perish here. Meanwhile, Esgarrouth struggled to lift his right hand, attempting to use certain extraordinary abilities to send a signal outward, so that the official extraordinary beings stationed slightly farther away would notice the unfolding anomaly inside. As for the compact "telegraph" with the horn, it had already tumbled to the wall upon Esgarrouth's collapse. Caine hesitated, about to make a decision, when suddenly a viscous black "liquid" began to flow down from the ceiling, swiftly coalescing into a dark silhouette. This figure appeared completely enveloped in a black curtain, with only a pair of cold, piercing blue eyes exposed. Upon seeing him, Caine was immediately overwhelmed by the most intense emotions and desires of life—fear, anger, greed, envy, hunger, lust—and so on. The "Apostle of Desire" didn't waste a moment in capitalizing on the carefully cultivated situation, immediately entering the living room. At this point, within the trio of detectives, Caslanara had been overwhelmed by emotional outbursts and was now physically drained, Estergan Stanton had suffered a severe spinal injury and was essentially out of combat, while only Caine remained unscathed. However, aside from his revolver and extraordinary bullets, all of his magical artifacts were now suspended above the gray mist, facing off against a Sequence-5 "Apostle of Desire"—a powerful figure capable of nurturing demon dogs! At this very moment, a faint smile curled at Caine's lips. With a swift motion of his right hand placed against Estergan's wound, he miraculously transferred the pronounced indentation from its original location to the side, precisely onto a rib! This was the "Magician's" most remarkable extraordinary ability: "Wound Transfer!" It allowed a wound to be relocated once upon the bearer itself, transforming a severe injury into a minor one—but it could not transfer damage to others or to objects. As soon as Caine saw that Esgarrouth Stanton was injured, he had already formulated his next steps: first, he would feign helplessness, allowing the "Apostle of Desire" to appear; then, he would transfer the great detective's injuries, leaving him with only a minor rib fracture. At that point, Caine believed Esgarrouth would naturally confront the "Apostle of Desire"—a human instinctual response in the face of imminent death. Thus, even if the "Apostle of Desire" sensed something was amiss, he would be too late to break contact. Once Caine completed his "treatment" and joined forces with the detective, they could effectively engage and delay the target until the official extraordinary agents arrived. The "Apostle of Desire," who had been ready to act, suddenly widened his eyes and froze mid-motion. Without being disturbed, he instantly turned and rushed toward the window. During this swift movement, his body collapsed rapidly, transforming into a thick, black liquid that seeped into the floor and walls, vanishing instantly. The right hand that克莱恩 had raised only managed to snap his fingers once. The air bullets passing through the open window struck the outside, sending sparks flying—yet the "Apostle of Desire" had already completely disappeared. How fast he moved! No hesitation at all... Are you still a demon? This will be a serious issue.克莱恩's mouth twitched slightly, then he turned to look at Eseng Stanton, who had rolled over and sat up beside him. The detective was also looking at him. "Can you heal?" "Can you heal?" Both of them asked the same question simultaneously. After exchanging a glance, Esgaroth shook his head with a wry smile, "I never thought my carefully laid trap would let him escape." As he spoke, his ring glowed faintly, and he scanned the surroundings, confirming that the "Apostle of Desire" had moved away. He then added, "In the afternoon, I didn't have the opportunity to simulate a healing ability. Later, I decided to use that as a setup—by making the 'Apostle of Desire' appear when I was severely wounded—so I deliberately wrapped my injuries quite dramatically." He pointed to the raised mark near his left arm at the shoulder. "Indeed, that proved useful. But I didn't expect you to manage such a serious injury as well—now, well..." Esgaroth sighed lightly. As a result, both of them prioritized treating the injuries, and no one pursued the "Apostle of Desire," allowing him to notice something was off and immediately flee. Whether it's me or Stanton, we both had cards or plans unknown to the Desire Apostle—intended to trap him—only for them to cancel each other out, allowing our target to slip away... This is what's known as a positive outcome resulting in a negative result, isn't it? Caine sighed, shaking his head. "It's simply because we haven't fully understood each other, and our coordination has been lacking." "No, it's my fault," Esgarrouth said sincerely. "When I saw you not fleeing or defensively guarding, but instead coming to assist me, I should have deduced that you weren't flustered—you were confident, you had resources, you had a plan. Unfortunately, wearing this ring kept my mind in a constant state of high workload, making it difficult for me to think clearly about additional matters." "The 2-081 seal even has a passive intelligence-diminishing effect," Caine remarked with a smile. "Mr. Stanton, this isn't the time to debate who's at fault. The Desire Apostle has already escaped. Now we must focus on what comes next." As Eicheng removed the ring, he turned toward the doorway of the living room and said, "The official extraordinary ones are approaching quickly. I'll go out to calm the Stuarts and then we'll discuss what to do. Will you join me, or would you prefer to attend to your own matters first?" Official extraordinary ones... Stanton mentioned the night watchmen, the Mechanical Heart, and the military earlier. Surely they wouldn't be acquaintances... Hmm, my intuitive sense hasn't raised any warning—so probably not. Stanton is giving me the opportunity to tidy up, to organize my sensitive items, so that I won't be disturbed by the less friendly official extraordinary ones. In an instant, Caine flashed through several thoughts and asked, "Mr. Stanton, when you first located the 'Aperture of Desire,' where was he at that time?" Eicheng thought for a moment and replied, "At your bedroom, sitting at your desk." ...What a show of confidence! Caine pointed toward the door and said, "I'll go check there—see if there are any traces left." "If we can grasp the true nature of the 'Apostle of Desire,' our pursuit will surely become much simpler. Everything else, I'll leave to you." "Very well." Esgarrouth stepped aside and supported the frail, weakened Caspian. Watching this scene, Caine found it rather comical: He had discussed so much, prepared thoroughly, and even laid traps—yet still couldn't hold the 'Apostle of Desire' in place, ending up in this state... Unexpected events always outnumbered preparations. So, after all, the 'Magician' was merely a Sequence 7. After leaving the room, Caine headed straight up to the second floor and entered his bedroom. The arrangement remained unchanged—down to the exact distance between the chairs and tables—yet Caine felt as though he saw a figure enveloped in a dark liquid, sitting there, gazing steadily ahead, patient and calm, waiting for the right moment. No wonder he's known as the "Cold Blooded One"... Caine gazed at the glass of the bulging window, wondering if he could perhaps divination what it had once reflected. The "Devil's" path is exceptionally skilled at committing crimes and rarely leaves behind clear traces—still, it might be worth trying above the gray mist. Caine surveyed the room and began burning some of his hastily prepared occult notes. Not long after he had finished attending to them, he noticed several strangers ascending to the second floor. Leading them was a man with a firm, strong facial structure, yet possessing a tousled, unruly, resolute chestnut hair. He held an ancient silver mirror engraved with an unusual pattern, its sides adorned with black stones forming eyes. "Good day, Mr. Moriaty. I am Ikonser Bernard, of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery. Would you allow me to inspect this space?" Caine nodded. "Of course." He then added with courtesy, "Would you like me to accompany you, ready to answer any questions that may arise?" "Thank you, Mr. Stanton has mentioned you." Ekonser smiled warmly. Behind him, several team members had varying attitudes toward Cline—some indifferent, others curious, and a few displaying clear hostility. How exactly had Mr. Stanton described me? What story had he crafted? Cline thought quickly, following Ekonser into the bedroom. The other official extraordinary ones formed pairs and dispersed to cover different areas on the second floor. "This was where the 'Apostle of Desire' sat?" Ekonser pointed to the chair in front of the desk. He had clearly already spoken with Esing, Stanton. "Yes," Cline replied calmly. Ekonser said nothing further, picked up the silver mirror, and gently stroked its surface three times with his right hand. After a brief pause, he spoke in a steady tone: "Respected Arodes, my question is—what did the demon who previously sat here look like?" The lights around suddenly deepened, as if stained by the mist after the rain, while an unusual shimmer of water glowed on the silver mirror, coalescing into a scene: a figure covered in a viscous black liquid sat in a chair, back to the window, facing the bed. Then, the scene shifted, and the dressing mirror in the corner faintly reflected the profile of that shadow, its side face similarly obscured by pure black—though enough contours could still be discerned. The figure of "The Apostles of Desire" had high cheekbones and a pair of cool, blue eyes. PS: The issue is resolved—it was indeed the Windows 10 system's clumsy, random updates at fault. After resetting the system, I regained the wireless network adapter, though this reset also restored the disk partitions and lost all my data. Fortunately, I knew how to search for partitions and recover the files. From now on, I'll make sure to turn off automatic updates.