They continued chatting. Suddenly, "Sol" Deric posed a question: "Respected Sir Fool, when we thank you, what gesture should we use?" Gesture? Caine was momentarily stumped by the young "Sol." He had never thought to devise his own prayer gesture—mimicking the goddess's church with a clockwise circular motion, or the storm church's right-palm-to-left-chest salute—something he had never considered before. This might well be a pseudo-divine's last resort. He muttered this to himself in quiet contemplation. Seeing Sir Fool smiling gently but silent, as though patiently waiting for him to unfold his thoughts, "Justice" Odile suddenly found herself inspired and thought of further questions. With bright eyes, she turned to the group and asked: "Ladies and gentlemen, might we also design a discreet, identifying gesture of our own?" Our Tarot Circle currently hasn't grown very large, so we don't yet have to worry about members encountering each other in the same setting and becoming adversaries for various reasons. But in the future, such situations will be hard to avoid—we'll need a special set of 'signals' to distinguish friends from enemies. I have an idea... Cline suddenly recalled the secret gestures he knew from his past life, such as the hand-in-pocket bow. Just as he was about to use the 'World' card to propose the idea, the 'Hangman' spoke up: "No, Miss Justice, I don't believe this is a good idea. Compared to other secret organizations, one of our most distinctive features is that members generally don't know each other well. For instance, even in the most extreme case—say, if one of our members is arrested and interrogated—it wouldn't affect the others, unless someone manages to overcome 'The Fool' and gain direct access here. And that, clearly, is impossible." "As soon as we have a complete set of 'codes' and 'ciphers,' traitors' disclosures will enable the opposing forces to gradually extract us one by one using these methods." "Are you eager to show off your status as a Tarot Circle member to others?" "...," Audrey hesitated briefly, unable to immediately counter, only stammering, "but..." "You're right to be concerned—this can be mitigated through regular weekly exchanges, pre-arranged gestures, and appeals to Mr. The Fool." Aljer, considering the substantial sum of pounds the other side would soon receive, spoke with growing warmth. "Justice" Audrey asked thoughtfully, "The simplest example is from our Tarot gathering on Monday: if you're aware in advance that you might meet—or even clash—with a particular member, you devise a temporary set of gestures to signal your identity. Once the situation passes, you immediately discard those gestures. And if something unexpected happens, and you haven't had time to communicate, and you're uncertain, you can simply pause and ask the 'Card of the Fool' for confirmation—perhaps to see whether another member was involved?" "More or less," Aljer breathed silently. At that moment, "The Sun" Derek also realized: "I'm sorry—I asked a rather foolish question. The 'Card of the Fool' has never mentioned what gesture to use when expressing gratitude. I was just afraid we'd inadvertently reveal it." He then turned toward the head of the bronze table: "Your wish is our path." I'd just thought of a particularly special gesture... Caine chuckled lightly: "Indeed." His gaze shifted to other members, and he spoke calmly and evenly, "The gathering will conclude here." "All members except 'The Moon' rose simultaneously," in response. Emlyn hesitated for a moment before hastily standing up, mimicking the others in offering a bow. At that instant, a deep red glow appeared before his eyes, and he felt a slight sensation of descending. Then, his vision stabilized, and he saw the various figures of dolls scattered throughout the room. Huffing out a breath, Emlyn White finally regained his composure and reflected on his very first attendance at a Tarot gathering: "Other than Mr. The Fool, none of the members appears particularly strong—could it be that all of us, like myself, were selected for various reasons? I have the Primordial Origin behind me—so who stands behind them? How amusing—it was my initial assumption that 'The Sun' was a half-divine powerhouse, having just escaped the pursuit of an angel. Who would have thought he was only at Sequence 8, actively striving to advance to Sequence 7!" "A child who lacks manners must still be young! Yet, the mention of the City of Silver and the recurring experiences he described seem quite odd. I need to find an opportunity to ask the大人, no—first ask Kasim, and then my parents—whether they know of the City of Silver. Hmph! How dare the historical records of the City of Silver alter our house's very legacy! "The Sir of Temperance is a well-matured gentleman, knowledgeable, of high character, willing to answer questions and offer assistance and information to new members. It's clear he is well-liked, with both the Sun and the World seeking him out for advice or help. The Sir of World, on the other hand, is rather unappealing—when he speaks, it's as though there's always a lump in his throat that he can't quite expel. I wouldn't even care to drink from his blood; there's a distinctly unclean aroma about him. He is reserved, adept at concealing his emotions, and effortlessly demonstrates the extraordinary traits of Sequence 6, promising to deliver a member with the extraordinary trait of a 'psychologist' within two months—remarkably accomplished! As these details unfold, Emlin realizes that the Tarot Circle is both simple and complex, and that the Sir of Fool has remained notably hands-off in the progress of the gatherings. He seems to be solely interested in what is known as the Roxel Diary—but he consistently provides miraculous conveniences for the members." Thinking of this, Emlin felt a quiet pride in his identity as "the Moon." Surveying the array of dolls in the room, he recalled his own question: "A bequest of 4,000 to 5,000 pounds—something that could swiftly make a baron's hope a reality—has truly proven difficult to achieve..." Though he had not yet made his final decision at that moment, Emlin sensed the room growing more somber, as though he now bore a heavy debt. The badge was no larger than a human eye, bearing symbols that represented "fate" and "concealment"—precisely the artifact克莱恩 had recovered from Lan'urus. On its reverse was inscribed an ancient Hermes inscription: "Those who hold this shall be admitted," along with meeting details: "April 4, 1350, at 8 p.m., in the valley of Barbul." Now,克莱恩's only question was whether to carry the badge to the valley of Barbul the following evening. Honestly speaking, he inclined toward staying away, despite having ascended to the rank of "Faceless One" and being capable of flawless disguise. He simply didn't want to take risks, as he knew little about the gathering. A magician never performs without preparation. With a soft murmur, he drew out a gold coin and held it between his fingers. Then, with the other hand, he picked up the badge and murmured, "Attending the gathering in the valley of Barbul carries risk." After several attempts, he gave a crisp snap and launched the gold coins. The coins rolled down and settled vertically in the palm of his hand—indicating a failed divination. "Indeed..." Caine was not surprised. This wasn't a matter of insufficient prior information; it was a complete absence of such information. He sat silently, the coins rolling between his fingers. In the end, Caine overcame his curiosity and sense of adventure, deciding to stay out of the matter. "But that doesn't mean I can't get involved. How about tomorrow evening at eight? Hmm..." He smiled slightly, sketching a smile, and returned to the real world. ... October 4th, 10:35 a.m. Caine stood before a table made of cherry wood, picking up a stack of banknotes. The stack consisted of five £10 notes and ten £5 notes, totaling £100—exactly the amount the "Turner" had just paid through sacrifice. These fifteen pounds made Caine's wallet fuller, finally allowing him to feel at ease when purchasing his tickets. After setting the wallet down, he picked up the thin human skin glove resting on the table and donned it on his left hand. One of the key features of "the creeping hunger" is that, when not in use, it remains undetected by most extraordinary means, blending seamlessly into its surroundings. Thus, Caine could switch it between its natural form, various colored gloves, and disguised skin tones. This time, he chose the black gloves. For this purpose, he had specially prepared a separate black glove for his right hand. Next, he placed the brown "biological toxin vial" into the iron box, sealed it with the ethereal wall, and tucked it into the inner pocket of his clothing. As for the "sun brooch," as long as it is worn and carried with him, it continuously creates the sensation of a hot summer. Consequently, Caine placed it inside an iron cigarette box and stored it at the very bottom of his trunk. "Nine purification rounds, fifteen hunt-mage rounds, three exorcism rounds..." Klein pulled out his revolver and the box of cartridges, silently counting as he loaded them. *Click!* He closed the cylinder, slipped the gun into his armpit satchel, donned his black wool coat, fastened a half-high silk hat, and took up his cane and valise, stepping out of the hotel room. Aside from the "Eye of All Black" and other items that remained suspended in the gray mist, he was fully equipped. By carriage, Klein arrived at the "Prize Port Ticket Company" located in the White Rose District. The company occupied a modest, slightly aged three-story building, with a wooden plaque displaying notices posted at the entrance. Klein approached, paused there, and glanced casually at the notices: "What is wolffish canned? What's this? Caine raised an eyebrow.