Through the bestowal ceremony, Caine presented the lady of Justice with 2,500 pounds in cash and the golden, antique mask provided by the "Hangman," and, using the image invoked by the "World," requested that she complete the transaction as soon as possible. Over the past two weeks, I've spent nearly 5,000 pounds—enough to support my retirement if I remain in Tübingen, and sufficient to maintain a lifestyle comparable to that of the landlord's family on a regular basis... Once a puppet is destroyed, one lives in poverty for a lifetime; once one begins taking medicine, one's descendants suffer for generations. Caine gazed at the now silent, endless mist and the ancient palace, feeling a sense of quiet melancholy, as though he had lost something of great importance. After a moment of stillness, he returned to the present world, picked up the remaining 830 pounds in cash on his desk, and deliberately counted out six five-pound notes. Then, Caine placed the 30 pounds into the money folder, which had now collapsed, and carefully tucked it into the inner pocket of his clothing. The remaining 800 pounds he folded into two stacks and placed Next, Caine opened the drawer and carefully extracted two of the five deep-sea Naga hairs he had brought back from the real world, wrapping them layer by layer in paper, and gently placed them into the hidden pocket of his clothing. With the hat and staff in hand, he walked toward the street corner under the glow of the gas-lit street lamps, boarding a carriage and heading directly to the "The Brave" tavern in the Beckland Bridge district. Amid the lively and noisy atmosphere, Caine finished his glass of Southwold beer before slowly making his way through the rising waves of boxing fans' cheers and leaving the tavern. He then boarded a hired carriage. As the wheels began to roll, he deliberately closed his eyes, and suddenly, a soft tap on the window came to his ears. Caine's facial muscles subtly shifted, and upon opening his eyes, he found Miss Sharon, pale-faced and elegantly composed, already seated quietly across from him. Before the other had even asked, Caine smiled and said, "I sold your last message quite well—the one about the Amun family's tomb." Sarlen said nothing, simply gazing steadily at him. Caine leaned on his cane and withdrew two stacks of cash and a small bundle of paper from his coat pocket. "Eight hundred pounds plus two locks of deep-sea Naiad hair—totaling around a thousand pounds. That's what you should have received." He took a quiet breath, then smiled and handed the cash and paper over without a word. Sarlen glanced at him and reached out to take the items. She lowered her head, studying the objects in her hands, and her voice came soft and ethereal. "How much did you sell it for?" "Two thousand pounds—half to each of us," Caine said lightly. If the "Heart of Mechanism" had only offered one thousand five hundred pounds as originally planned, then I’d have to settle part of the balance first… he thought with quiet satisfaction. Sarlen’s pale hands flipped over, and the cash and paper vanished without a trace. She lifted her head, gave a simple "Hmm," and asked directly: "What's inside the tomb?" "I don't know—I haven't been there." Kline didn't mention Arōdes' assistance with the magic mirror. At that moment, he felt that if he described the experience in detail, Miss Sharon would surely resume her previous habit of resting one hand on her chin, intently listening. This "ghostly" lady clearly has a fondness for dramatic scenes and hearing various tales... Kline concluded. Sharon's expression remained unchanged, and after a few seconds of silence, she said: "People are digging tunnels to reach the underground ruins." "Oh?" Kline momentarily didn't catch which event she was referring to. But soon he realized what she meant by "underground ruins." They both knew of only one such underground site—the ruins of the Fourth Dynasty Tūdō—where a terrifying spirit dwells! So people are digging tunnels, aiming to enter that underground structure? Klein pondered for a few seconds, then had a sudden inspiration: "That baron? He's forgotten the name of the hidden Tudor descendant, only remembering that he holds the title of baron and lives on West Villars Street, where the Beckland police station is located." "Yes," Sharon affirmed. "What does he hope to find? Doesn't he know there's a malevolent spirit inside? Doesn't he know that his family's previous extraordinary ones all perished there?" Klein murmured these questions to himself. Sharon sat quietly and responded thoughtfully: "I'm not sure whether he knows or not." "How much longer will it take him to dig through?" Klein asked, weighing his words. "Two to three months, for now he has only one person working with him," Sharon judged. Klein exhaled gently: "We don't need to rush. Once I'm ready, we'll go visit him together." "Having said that, he smiled and added, 'As you know, I like to be well-prepared.' Before I'm promoted to 'Faceless,' I won't get involved in anything anymore!" he reminded himself. "Alright," Sharon didn't ask him what preparations he needed—her figure quickly faded and she disappeared into the carriage. Kieran settled back against the carriage wall, feeling a deep sense of ease. The ingredients for the 'Faceless' potion had been secured—only awaiting shipment... all the external debts were settled, so there was nothing else to worry about... his mood was like a well-aged sparkling wine, with quiet, subtle moments of joy rising gently. The only drawback was... Kieran ran a hand over his left chest, where his wallet had shrunk and become thin. He sighed quietly, speaking to himself without making a sound: "Just 30 pounds in cash, five gold coins, and some change left..." Thursday afternoon. Audrey Hall was waiting in the study for the arrival of Miss Islandt. — After receiving responses from the Empress and the World, she immediately dispatched a servant to deliver a letter to Islanthe. The letter was quite ordinary, simply requesting that the second psychology class of the week be moved to Thursday. In reality, Audrey had already arranged with Islanthe to agree on this matter as soon as she expressed such a request—meaning the other party had already accepted the terms. Ticking, ticking, the wall clock moved steadily and briskly. Islanthe, with her long hair reaching her waist, entered the room holding several textbooks. Audrey gave Suzy a glance, and the golden dog, somewhat reluctant, leapt out and settled into the shade nearby, observing the people coming and going. Islanthe closed the door to the study, slowly surveyed the room, then sat across from the small white round table, setting down her textbooks. "Are they paying in money, or in magical items?" asked one of the members of the Psychological Alchemy Circle, lowering her voice. "One is paying directly with 2,500 pounds, and the other is offering a magical item." Audrey pulled out a pristine cardboard box from her bright yellow medium-sized handbag with a light, cheerful tone, the box enveloped in a veil of spiritual energy. Removing the veil, she opened the lid to reveal the golden, rustic mask. Then, she faithfully recounted the mask's flaws and effects. Honestly, when she first received this magical item, she had been eager to test its properties—after all, it was her first formal encounter with a magical object—but ultimately, she held back, not wanting to come across as cold. "Basically equivalent in value," Elsanthar said, exhaling in relief. After a brief pause, she drew out the thickest textbook, flipping to page 48. The central section of the book had been hollowed out, containing a small iron box and a rolled-up piece of vellum. "The human-skin shadow trait… the 'Wind-Enamored' potion recipe…" Elsanthar introduced each feature as she demonstrated. Audrey's gaze settled on the shimmering faces formed by the interplay of light and shadow, which seemed to possess a diamond-like quality—so vivid and dynamic that it left her feeling slightly dizzy. Indeed, this seemed to have a certain ability to temper the audience's expectations. Was this the sequential pathway of the "World" gentleman? No wonder. Audrey shifted her focus, now turning her attention to the potion formula: "Sequence 6, 'Wind-Keen,' primary ingredients: six crystallized feathers from the Blue Shadow Falcon, a pair of eyes from the Dragon-Eye Harpy." Before she could examine the auxiliary ingredients, Islanthe had already neatly rolled up the parchment. Then, she re-established the spiritual barrier of the iron box, closed the textbook, and placed it gently into Audrey's hands. Audrey held the book firmly, yet failed to promptly hand over the golden, antique mask and the 2,500 pounds in cash to Islanthe. Meeting the other's puzzled expression, Audrey smiled lightly, already prepared: "The other party is concerned that the characteristics may not align, fearing the formula might be fabricated, and thus wishes to verify it first." "Until the verification is complete, both money and goods are under my care, and everyone believes in my credibility. I don't want to lose that reputation." "I understand their concerns," Islan said, pausing. "We also trust you." With the money and goods securely held by her own members, she felt completely at ease, confident that she wouldn't be deceived. Moreover, Miss Odile was both wealthy and well-respected—her guarantee was reliable. Islan thought this over, feeling relaxed. ... Above the gray mist, within the ancient palace. Klein held the pendulum, divining the authenticity of the "Wind-Keen" potion's recipe. He didn't want to risk losing the Tarot Circle's most experienced and capable member—the "Hanged Man." When he opened his eyes and saw the yellow crystal pendant rotating clockwise, he breathed a sigh of relief and sent his intention to the deep red star symbolizing the "Hanged Man." ... The City of Generosity. First, Aljere saw an endless expanse of gray-white mist, then heard the low, resonant voice of the "Fool": "Miss Justice has completed the transaction." Instantly, a spectral parchment appeared before him, inscribed with the recipe for the "Wind-Keen" potion. With the "Fool" having personally verified it, Aljere had no doubt about its authenticity. He bowed respectfully and thanked him. Once the illusion faded, he immediately retrieved paper and pen to record the recipe. Then, he paced back and forth with growing excitement, murmuring to himself: "The blue-shadowed falcon... there was one on that prim island..."