Patrick Jason's front door suddenly swung open, and a group of night-watchmen in black wool coats dashed inside. Their expressions were alert and guarded, as if facing an utterly terrifying enemy. Tapping, tapping, tapping, a silver full-body armor entered. It felt unusually heavy, with every detail adhering to an ancient style; across its surface, a broad, pooling streak of dark red blood, unremovable and unclean, spilled from its left shoulder down to the abdomen, while scattered splashes of red dots elsewhere added to the eerie, almost ornamental beauty—like a unique and splendid decoration. "Sorcerer" Sostar checked his watch and said, "Change of personnel." The silver armor halted, raised its face mask, revealing the figure inside—a handsome man with dark hair and bright eyes. "Leonard, the master bathroom on the second floor is ready with hot water. Don't delay—otherwise, you'll have to return to the goddess's arms." "Sostre added. "Yes, Captain Sostre," Leonard Mitchell removed his heavy, blood-stained silver armor with the help of the other night watchmen. Wearing red gloves, he made no small talk, no hesitation—straight to the second floor, where he found the bathtub still steaming with white vapor. Brush, brush, brush—Leonard quickly shed his clothes and lay down in the hot water, never lifting his nose. His skin quickly turned a deep red, like a boiled lobster, and gradually, intricate, eerie silver patterns began to seep out, spreading outward like beams of pure light and merging into the water. Within just a few seconds, the white steam vanished, and a thin, transparent layer of ice began to form on the surface of the water! Only after the silver patterns had fully dispersed did Leonard turn over and sit up, breathing deeply. He slightly tilted his head, as if listening to something, then lowered his voice: "Old man, do you know the origin of '1–42'?" A slightly elderly voice immediately resonated in his mind: "You are becoming increasingly impolite. "I have no idea where that strange armor came from." Before Leonard could ask further, he chuckled: "But I believe I recognize the owner of that streak of blood." "Who?" Leonard inquired curiously. The slightly elderly voice responded in a low tone: "One of the ancient gods before the Great Cataclysm." ........... Southern District of the Bridge, Rose Street, Harvest Church. As soon as Caine stepped into the quiet chapel, he noticed Father Utrofski and the vampire Emlyn White seated one in front of the other, tall and short respectively, their hands interlaced, palms gently open and held before their mouths and noses. This was the specific prayer posture belonging to the Earth Mother Church. At that moment, Emlyn White appeared calm and serene, completely devoid of his earlier arrogance and concerns. Caine gave a subtle smile and silently traced a triangular holy emblem on his chest. He casually found a seat and only after the prayer concluded did he walk over to Emlyn White, smiling and saying, "You've been especially devout today." "What?" Emlyn snapped awake, his face pale as he murmured, "What have I done? What have I done?" His voice grew softer, as if he had just recalled his actions. "Perhaps not such a bad thing," Klein offered, with words that lacked conviction, then sat down beside the vampire. "I don't want to hear anyone say that, even though I myself am beginning to feel less resistant...” Emlyn's face remained dark, his tone slightly mournful, "But I don't want to betray the moon!" Klein changed the subject, steering the conversation lightly, "Do the bloodline venerate the primordial moon, or a deity representing the moon? Or are the two essentially the same?" "Both." "Emlyn lifted his chin slightly." "For the traditional vampire line, of course, it's the deity who represents the moon—the one named Lilith, our ancestral goddess, an ancient deity. The vampires who originated from humans tend to venerate the primordial moon. Under normal circumstances, these two are equivalent, though at times they diverge and do not fully overlap." "The vampires who originated from humans?" Caine wasn't surprised that Emlyn White could name Lilith, the second-archaic goddess. What intrigued him more was the concept of human-born vampires. Was that the 'vampire' lineage Mr. Azk mentioned? He thought to himself silently. Emlyn spoke with a slightly complex expression. "Yes, there are two types. One is transformed through a powerful vampire's initial embrace, and the other is achieved through the consumption of a specific magical potion. The latter, however, is our most hated enemy." "Why?" Caine had a vague sense of the answer already. Emlin bit his teeth and replied, "Their primary ingredient in potions is precisely our blood essence." Indeed... Caine couldn't help but turn his head and scrutinize Emlin closely. Emlin, slightly uneasy under the gaze, huffed, "You're already a非凡 one—you can't switch pathways anymore!" I've never seen a walking, living, speaking非凡 material before... though, in a certain sense, every human非凡 is such a material... Caine had only intended to casually tease this thought to himself, but it quickly stirred a deep sense of sorrow. At that moment, Emlin glanced at the bishop, Utravski, carefully wiping the Life Saint's Emblem, and whispered, "I've found two of the materials you need." "What are they?" Caine couldn't hide his delight. Emlyn replied smoothly, "The cerebral atypia of the Thousand-Faced Hunter—the pituitary gland and its blood—costs the other party 2,000 pounds for the former and 300 pounds for 100 milliliters of the latter, totaling 2,300 pounds." "2,300..."克莱恩 exclaimed, "Can we possibly do better?" After securing his bail, he now had a total of 2,185 pounds in cash. For a middle-class household, this was already a substantial sum—some might take a lifetime to accumulate such an amount—but克莱恩 found it still insufficient. "No, if it weren't for me, he originally wanted 2,800 pounds. As per our agreement, you'll need to pay me an additional 150 pounds, bringing the total to 2,450 pounds," Emlyn shook his head. Noticing克莱恩's expression, he quickly added, "In this era, dragons are rare and scarce. Aside from the long-lived bloodline, you're hard-pressed to find comparable exceptional materials elsewhere, and even if you do, they'd command a higher price." "Still need 265 pounds... Having saved so much diligently, about to empty the entire amount, yet still not enough... I hope the Sir Pendragon sells the extraordinary traits of the Wolf Man soon... After that, there's still the human skin shadow's properties and the sea Naiad's hair—won't be much cheaper than this... As for the little Sun, the situation remains uncertain; I'll have to remain patient for now. He owes me a fee, and ideally, he should settle it by removing the mental contamination of the unstable spirits within the magical items—something more discreet... Kline's mind raced with thoughts, feeling the brightness outside dimmed noticeably. He took a deep breath and said: "Agreed. "But the deal should be postponed for a while—I've recently encountered someone who's now being protected by the official extraordinary beings. Surely you don't want that seller confined beneath the church's floor, do you?" Furthermore, I still need to gather the remaining funds... Kline tilted his head slightly, gazing upward at the church's dome. "The official extraordinary beings?" Emlin White jumped up, looking around nervously. Kline glanced at him and said, "Don't worry. You're now a priest of the Earth Mother Goddess Church, with official status, and the Utravaski Main Church has your protection." "I'm not..." Emlin's denial sounded particularly weak. He sat back down, then suddenly asked, "Can the official extraordinary beings handle the issue of psychological suggestion?" "Perhaps they can," Kline almost smiled. "But then you'd likely become a devotee of the Night Goddess, the Goddess of Steam and Machinery, or the Lord of Storms. Of course, you could also join the military's special departments—perhaps they'd send you abroad as a spy to court a noble lady." "I only love dolls and pure, beautiful young women!" Emlin emphasized immediately. It was clear you were slightly taken with him, but only slightly. Kline then asked, "Do you know anyone from the Beleia family?" "In Beklanth." "Belia? The mad family that worships demons? No, they are demons themselves!" Emlin exclaimed in surprise. "What do you want with them?" Kline sighed. "I've clashed with one of their members, Patrick Jason Belia, over a series of murders." "Could you find out about his recent whereabouts and acquaintances within your circle? If you have solid information, I'll pay you—compensation will vary depending on the significance of the intelligence." Of course, all of this can be submitted for reimbursement to the Night Watch, the Mechanical Heart, and the military... Kline thought calmly. Emlin nodded thoughtfully. "You dared to challenge a true demon." "Once you have concrete information about him, he'll realize you're about to cause him serious harm." "That's fine. I have official supernatural protectors." Kline replied with little concern. Emlyn remained silent for a moment, then said, "Very well, I'll give it a try—minimum payment of twenty pounds for the message." Once this was settled, Caine didn't linger any longer. He rose and walked toward the church doors. His mind was entirely occupied with how he would raise the funds for the next steps. The "Magician" had just published her new book, which should bring in a solid advance, plus ongoing royalties. Perhaps he could pitch her the "Astrologer's" potion recipe—though she still hadn't gathered all the ingredients for her own "trickmaster" potions. The "Justice" lady had joined the Psychological Alchemy Circle, but Caine didn't have any recipes to offer her either. What about selling knowledge? The "Lupine"’s unique traits were worth only about one thousand two hundred and thirty pounds—possibly even less. Would he have to create a truly magical item? Alternatively, find a way to make Emlyn White a believer of "The Fool," accepting a donation at the cost of removing the psychological suggestion—oh, Jason Be利亚 is carrying a substantial amount of cash, jewelry, and precious metals; if we can locate him, we might secure a share! As thoughts raced through his mind, Caine stepped out of the church and observed the dim sky and thin mist. He sighed softly, saying, "We're short on funds..."... Back on Minsk Street, Caine held a thick stack of newspapers and entered the restroom, adopting the posture of someone enduring a long battle. He would journey to the gray mist, using Jason's handkerchief to divinate the whereabouts of his missing companion!