The Primordial Creator? Kline paused, then recalled the intelligence provided by the elder Kole: recently, people in the Eastern District, the Port District, and the Industrial District have been spreading the belief in the Primordial Creator, asserting that He has not truly passed away but instead resides within each individual and within every thing—so long as one serves Him wholeheartedly, praises Him, not only can one attain salvation and enter His heavenly realm after death, but one's current life can also be greatly improved, such as enjoying daily meals of rich, oiled meat. This closely aligns with the variant theory of the Aurora Society, so Kline had immediately concluded it was the quiet organization at work, sensing that after the Larnus event, they had begun to value the broader masses of the poor. Now, they were already so assertive—how could they be pulling people into their faith on the streets? Kline carefully replied, "I've heard of it." The middle-aged man in the worn clothing immediately beamed, "Then, do you know what the end times will bring?" Does the Primordial Creator know that a sanctuary will be established on earth to shelter the faithful? For a brief moment, Caine considered joining the missionary effort, gradually integrating into the periphery of the Aurora Society, gathering evidence and leads to retaliate against their search for followers of "The Fool." But after careful reflection, he concluded that this would be too risky—alone, it would be exhausting, cumbersome, and uncertain in results. In the end, he decided to report this phenomenon directly to the "Mechanical Heart," entrusting the official body with handling it. With this decision clear, Caine instantly settled his expression: "I don't know, and I don't intend to find out!" He stepped forward, leaving the other behind, ignoring the mid-aged man's calls. On his way out of the Eastern District, he observed closely and noticed that many workers, displaced due to improvements in textile machinery and the resulting seasonal decline in port activity, had gathered in small groups, listening attentively to the reassurances and teachings of strangers with unknown identities. The investigations into the Eastern District, the Port Area, and the Factory District were completed within the first two months—yet the three churches and the Parliament haven't come up with any concrete measures? Their attention must have definitely increased; they surely couldn't have missed this situation... Trying to lure big fish by stretching out a long-term strategy? That's easily going to fall apart! While muttering these thoughts, Caine adjusted his baseball cap and stepped out of the Eastern District, heading straight for the Beckland Bridge area. "Kaspas died—supposedly, he was too tightly wrapped while sleeping, and he suffocated. Hah, I don’t really believe that could happen. I’ve only heard such stories in ghost tales. But that’s what the black-and-white dogs say." The black-and-white dogs refer to the police wearing black-and-white checked uniforms. Suffocated by his own blanket? That sounds quite esoteric... Could it be that the high-sequence strength from the Rose School, having been unable to locate Miss Sharon and Marič, chose to kill in frustration? Then, where is the dignity of a high-sequence strength? Then Caspian can't reach Miss Sharon either... Perhaps they've already left Beckett... Caspian clearly underestimated the dangers of the extraordinary world. If it were me, I'd never return to the "Brave Ones" tavern—long ago, I'd have packed up my savings and moved to a new city, a new environment... Still, under normal circumstances, high-tier strongholds wouldn't specifically target ordinary people. They might simply avoid considering side effects during forced spirit communion. How fitting—indeed, the Rosy School, known for indulging in desires, has managed to do something so unusual. Caine was both astonished and sympathetic toward the black-market arms merchant. The bartender wiped the cup and continued: "If you're looking to purchase items, there's a new merchant available." "Who?" Caine asked casually. "The old man," the bartender said, not lifting his head. "He's at the third table tennis room." Caine rose immediately and slowly walked toward the familiar spot, knocking gently on the slightly ajar door. "Come in," a voice called out. That voice sounded familiar... Caine pushed open the wooden door and looked inside. Standing by the table was a younger boy dressed in an old coat, wearing a brown fedora and bright red eyes—Ian, the one Caine had first met when he arrived in Bekland, the one who had become entangled in the third-generation differential machine manuscript dispute due to the case Caine had entrusted to the detective Zerel, and who had had to pay a substantial fee to the Aurora Society's A. Mr. to eliminate Ambassador Becland Jean Madan of the Roon Kingdom. "It's you, Detective Moriaty?" Ian was startled. He had deliberately grown a beard to appear more seasoned. Caine smiled as he entered the billiards room and casually closed the door: "Long time, no see." "I was initially quite surprised that Ian had turned up here and become a weapons merchant on the black market, but soon some details came to mind, and it all made perfect sense:克莱恩 had been able to find both the 'The Brave Ones' tavern and Caspian Kandlinning thanks precisely to Ian's introduction. This big guy must surely have a solid network in the area!" "Yes," Ian settled his expression of astonishment, murmuring, "I've been living in Privet Harbor for two months now, and found the people there both wild and fierce—never showing any courtesy or kindness toward children. So I returned to Beckland, went back to what I was good at. Then, after Caspian's death, I decided to make a change." Before克莱恩 could speak, he added: "Detective sir, I've always kept that in mind. I still owe you two requests." "There's no need to explain so much. I don't care what you've done in the past, though I've always found it suspicious that you escaped from MI9—still, it's not that important." Klein picked up a golf club and demonstrated the stance. "Besides underground weapons trading, have you been selling intelligence as well?" "Yes," Ian answered with quiet confidence. "What would you like to know? Free of charge." How generous—perhaps out of guilt over the earlier events? Klein drove the club forward, striking the mother ball precisely so that a red ball dropped cleanly into the center pocket. He didn't hesitate, straightening up. "We've been actively seeking followers of 'The Fool'—there are several rewards on the line. Do you have any news?" Ian thought carefully. "Not really. In fact, I'm beginning to doubt whether 'The Fool' even has any followers. No one seems to have found any trace of them." "...That's what they call firing a cannon at the air," Caine murmured, chuckling to himself, then asked, "Also, there's another bounty—someone is searching for a university professor named Azk Egers. I'd like to know who issued this bounty, so I can decide whether to get involved. Honestly, searching for someone is such a waste of time." Ian didn't answer immediately. He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "The Nine Department." The Nine Department? Not the Order of the Holy Light... So it must indeed be due to Ins. Zanggwell's arrangements that Professor Azk has come into conflict with the Nine Department. Perhaps he's uncovered a secret he wasn't meant to know? Caine instantly went through a series of thoughts, then smiled. "So I needn't worry that the bounty is fake. But I'm afraid Professor Azk Egers is being tracked by the Nine Department because of some secret he's uncovered. In that case, the very day I receive this bounty might just be the last day of my life." Ian spread his hands. "I'm not sure about that. 'But you could just provide clues.'" "Good suggestion," said Kline. He didn't press further, paid five sures, replenished his supply of ordinary bullets, and then left the "Heroes" tavern. Taking a comfortable hired carriage, he gazed out at the overcast sky and suddenly felt a quiet sense of melancholy. "Caspar Kallin has passed away, which means Miss Sharon and Maričh will have to abandon this 'outpost.' With me now only able to reach them on my own, it will be difficult to find them again... Unless they encounter difficulties requiring assistance, or reach the stage where they must confront the malevolent spirit deep within the underground ruins, I won't see them again. Though we haven't been close friends, we've collaborated twice—making me a familiar acquaintance who can meet them as a remarkable one without having to conceal my identity. That means there are now two fewer such people." "Without having just gone through the 'Apostles of Desire' incident, there wouldn't have been another odd vampire—just Emlin White—who could openly discuss matters of the mysterious realm without pretense. "Thank goodness, thank goodness..." As she murmured this, a faint, ethereal voice suddenly rose in her ear: "What's on your mind?" Caylen instantly felt a shiver run down her spine. Only after confirming who was seated before her did she exhale, offering a resigned smile. "Miss Sharon, you always appear so unexpectedly, don't you?" Wearing a Gothic-style court gown and a delicate black soft hat, Sharon sat quietly on the opposite side of the carriage, as always, with her complexion pale. "I'll knock on the window next time," Sharon nodded, without any emotional variation. She didn't reiterate her earlier question, simply gazing at Caylen with quiet, steady presence. Unexpectedly knocking on the window? That’s equally alarming… Caine didn’t immediately bring up the matter of the "Shadow of Human Skin." Instead, he asked, "Has the high-sequence powerhouse departed?" "Yes." Sharon uttered a single word. Caine slightly relaxed, adding, "It might have been a trap, though." As he spoke, he recalled something and quickly补充, "I’ve finished reading The Book of Secrets and also gathered information from other sources—making appeals to the 'Primordial Moon' often goes wrong; it’s best to avoid attempting it." "Good," Sharon didn’t ask why. She paused for a moment, her voice distant, saying, "The 'Primordial Moon' and the 'Bound God' are suspected to be rivals." Could it be due to their interchangeable sequences—or some other reason? Caine thoughtfully steered the conversation back on track: "Miss Sharon, do you know of any locations or characteristics associated with the 'Shadow of Human Skin'?" As a figure resembling a doll, Sharon listened calmly and nodded. "Yes."