The gas streetlamps of the night illuminated the wet ground, occasionally splashing droplets as a carriage passed by. Bekland lies in the heart of the kingdom, just a few dozen kilometers from the Sunia Sea, and is known for its frequent light rains. In July, the average maximum temperature hovers around 28 degrees Celsius, and in winter, the minimum dips to about 2 degrees—rarely dropping to zero, let alone surpassing it. Yet this damp, cool chill often makes people feel cold, even those from the northern region of Fyrsak, accustomed to snowy winters, sometimes finding it difficult to endure the penetrating moisture that seeps through clothes and flesh. "The magician's potion has been fully absorbed... I personally ended the 'Apostle of Desire,' and he couldn't escape... The 'Circle of Aurora' continues to struggle in its search for the followers of the 'Fool'... Aside from Mr. Azk's pursuit by some force and the matter concerning the magical ingredients, I currently have no other concerns..." Kline leaned forward, exhaled softly, watching as a layer of white mist formed on the windowpane. He had taken the risk to intercept the 'Apostle of Desire' precisely because he feared the latter might have other plans to smoothly evade the official extraordinary agents' pursuit. Then, should he provide crucial insights, he might be remembered afterward and ultimately repaid—perhaps even retaliated against. As a 'Coldheart,' demons were unlikely to risk their lives to avenge a comrade, yet they would certainly vent their frustration if they themselves had narrowly escaped death. "This operation truly had to happen. Perhaps members of the 'Dusk Hermit Society' were already stationed somewhere, ready to assist once the 'Apex Apostles' had escaped. Without timely updates, I might simply have maintained my defenses according to Sequence 5, assuming that once promoted to 'Faceless,' the 'Apex Apostles' would pose little threat. Yet it's very likely that the 'Apex Apostles' will leverage the information provided by the 'Deep Vein' card and the support of the 'Dusk Hermit Society' to advance into a higher sequence! Such a development is truly alarming. Justice must be served—without it, the situation would be precarious indeed." Kline reviewed the events of this afternoon, drawing lessons and insights from them. After appreciating the night view, he turned and sat back down on the sofa, pondering the next steps: "With the reward from the 'Heart of Mechanism,' we can afford the cerebral mutations and blood of the Four-Faced Hunter, as well as the funds needed for the deep-sea Naiads' hair. This material should be relatively easy to gather at sea, and we can have the 'Hanged Man' assist with that. The only issue remains the unique properties of the human skin shadow... "And even if we have leads, the pounds still aren't sufficient..." Thinking of this, Caine couldn't help but silently chuckle to himself: "I'm not particularly fond of money myself—just a normal preference. In Tinggen, I always encouraged Melissa to spend, urged her to hire a housekeeper and dine with Benson, believing it was essential never to overlook her own comfort. In every covert operation, I've always prioritized safety and prudence, never letting financial concerns compromise my judgment." "But to avenge ourselves, we must advance our sequence, and to advance our sequence, we must purchase costly extraordinary materials—accumulated one penny, one sou at a time, saving every single penny we can..." Suddenly, he shrugged, feeling the chill of the living room making the 'magician,' who wasn't particularly strong in physical stamina, shiver. So, he decided to take a direct bath, climb into bed, and read books. There were still three or four hours before bedtime—there was no need to light the fireplace anymore... Klein sighed, stood up, and headed upstairs. ........ The underground area of the Steam Church. Ikonse reviewed all the testimonies, then picked up his coffee and took a sip. After a moment of quiet, he produced the ancient silver mirror known as Arodos. Carlson glanced at him, curious: "Sir, if you ask Arodos about outstanding mathematical problems or classic paradoxes, will it provide the correct answers?" "Most of the time, it simply rejects you outright—if it senses malice in your intentions, it might even strike you with a lightning bolt or impose a curse you'd rather not face." Ikonser sighed. "It's a living seal, highly intelligent, not a rigid, rule-bound differential machine. When using it, avoid thinking too much about finding loopholes." Carlson glanced at the surrounding team members, kindly offering, "Sir, let me take care of that for you. I have nothing to hide." He straightened his posture, adopting a composed and honest demeanor. Ikonser offered a wry smile. "No need. Everything relevant is already known. I no longer fear such questions. Moreover, sometimes even the esteemed Arodes poses quite profound inquiries. Given your current condition, the penalties you'll face in the future won't be easy to bear." With that, he first clenched his fists, then slowly extended his fingers, gently tracing the surface of the silver mirror three times. In the subtle haze, Ikonse spoke in a low, steady tone: "Respected Arodes, my question is—who, or which faction, orchestrated the assassination of Duke Nigen by the 'Apostles of Desire?'” The silver mirror remained still for a moment before gently rippling, casting a scene reminiscent of an oil painting: a vast plain as the sun was setting, its fields bathed in soft, golden twilight. "What does this mean?" Carlson and the other members of the 'Heart of Mechanism' exchanged glances, utterly puzzled—even among them, there were exceptional ones who had ascended as 'Seers,' familiar with interpreting such revelations. "Is it referring to dusk? A symbol of life's end? Perhaps a sect devoted to the god of death, or a fanatical believer in the end times?" one of the 'Seers' pondered. Carlson nodded in agreement. "I believe it's the latter." Ikonse paid no attention to their conversation, as Arodes's question now came to the surface: "What is your favorite color of underwear?" Ikonser's face suddenly flushed, as if smoke were rising from the top of his head. With great difficulty, he managed to utter a single word: "Red." The room instantly grew unusually quiet, and Carlson and the others pretended to be undisturbed, gazing toward the corner. Ikonser sank into a chair, running a hand through his voluminous hair, preparing to ask his second question. Carlson, unable to bear it any longer, gently interjected: "Officer, let me try." "…Please, try not to enter the disciplinary phase," Ikonser finally agreed. Carlson, confident in his performance, carefully mimicked the officer's movements, lightly brushing the surface of the silver mirror three times, while the other members gradually regrouped around him. "Respected Arodes, my question is: Who are the collaborators of the 'Apostles of Desire'?" The surface shimmered, and the image shifted. First, a woman's silhouette emerged, exceptionally well-proportioned. Then, a figure became increasingly blurred, barely discernible as a man based only on his attire. "There was indeed another collaborator—this must be the person who leaked information about Duke Niggen! Unfortunately, they've made some preparations..." Carlson glanced around. He felt confident that he had nothing to hide and didn't need to worry about the subsequent questions. This time, Arodès offered a choice: a question, a task, or a punishment. Carlson responded without hesitation: "A question!" Rapidly, blood-red words appeared on the silver mirror surface: "Do you solve everything by hand every day?" Carlson's lips moved, his ears suddenly blazing with heat. Though he considered this a perfectly normal matter, answering it in front of so many teammates and superiors made him feel as though he wanted to bury his face in the ground. "Yes..." he replied softly. ........ The basement of Saint Samuel's Church. Dale, wearing blue eyeshadow, tossed a stack of files onto the "occultist" Sostre's desk: "All the cases involving tarot cards you requested." "Fewer than I expected," Sostre remarked, slightly surprised. Dale gave a short laugh. "This is just an index." Leonard, observing the scene, gently rubbed his lips with his right hand, gloved in red. "Captain Sostre, why don't we investigate everyone who's had contact with Jason Beleia and compare their cases with the two previous incidents? There's likely a clue there—about an organization symbolized by tarot cards." "Duke Niggen is a devoted follower of the Lord of Storms, representing the storm church's interests on the political stage. The Accusers will undoubtedly be frantic in their search for the culprit—we have no need to get involved; in fact, that might only create friction with them. Instead, we'll investigate other cases involving the Tarot cards. Perhaps we'll uncover new leads. Of course, this will mean we'll be on the move constantly—but that's precisely the role of the Red Glove." Sostre smiled and explained. Leonard nodded: "I understand." Yet in his mind, the slightly weathered voice murmured with quiet amusement: "The Watchers completely missed this. There's a distinct 'Emperor of Black' about that person—truly, the essence of the Emperor of Black!" "Your next task is simple: investigate the assassination of Duke Nigan. Once you've filed your request, you are authorized to use Seal Level 1 assets. You must find out who is targeting us!" Standing at the forefront, a middle-aged man wearing a refined version of the captain's hat immediately led the group, raising his fist and lightly tapping his chest: "Understood, Your Grace!" Though neither particularly tall nor striking in appearance, he was slender and unremarkable—except for a navy-blue anchor-shaped tattoo on his neck. Though she had survived one assassination attempt against the Duke of Nigan, she had never imagined that such a powerful noble would actually die as a result. "Indeed," Susie affirmed. Audrey felt momentarily puzzled, as though the situation lacked authenticity. Could it be that such a distinguished noble—lived, breathed, capable of laughter and conversation, who had even granted her a manor—would truly perish? In that instant, she sensed the cold, unyielding harshness of adult life. "Who did it?" Audrey asked instinctively. "A sequence-5 demon," Susie replied swiftly. "Though he's already been silenced—by that rogue knight, 'Black Emperor'." "Oh?" Audrey was once again stunned. How could it be the knight 'Black Emperor'? How could it be one of the 'Fool's' followers? Didn't he just assist me in resolving the crisis of the Duke of Nigan's assassination just recently? This was utterly contradictory. Audrey immediately instructed Suzy to go listen again, then locked her room and sat by the bed, praying to "The Fool." After reciting the name with reverence and describing the assassination of Duke Niggen, she expressed great confidence and asked, "Is there someone present among your attendants?" A moment later, she saw an endless gray mist and heard the voice of "The Fool": "Yes. He is seeking the organization that sent the 'Apostles of Desire.'" Indeed, it wasn't arranged by "The Fool" after all! Wasn't the last time He sent His attendants to intercept Zilings also aimed at that very behind-the-scenes organization? Audrey relaxed, curious to know, "What organization is that? How could it receive your attention?" A second later, "The Fool" responded as usual, calmly: "The Order of the Dusk Hermits."