"Respected Arōdes, my second question is—how did Sherlock Moriarty escape the sanctuary?" Ikonser felt considerably more at ease than before. The surface of the silver mirror shimmered gently, swiftly capturing the image of Sherlock Moriarty leaning against the wall, his fists alternately loosening and clenching. Then, Ikonser Bernard and the nearby "Heart of Mechanism" steward, along with the officers, saw the private detective break into a theatrical smile, turn around, and rush out with his gun drawn. At that moment, influenced by the composition, they all unexpectedly felt a sense of both noble and stirring momentum. The scene within the mirror instantly shifted to show Sherlock Moriarty holding his revolver, firing at the altar—his shots falling ineffective; the extraordinary bullets, each one separating as they struck, stirred genuine concern among the onlookers. Then, Sherlock Moriarty threw a brass key into the air, and the altar began to show signs of contamination and instability. The surge of wind sent A.先生 crashing to the ground, and Sherlock Moriarty rolled and tumbled out of the temple-like building. The scene then shifts, with the slightly turbid Tasso River now serving as the primary backdrop. Sherlock Moriarty and A.先生 float in the water, both gazing upward at the sky—where a blank expanse remains, untouched even by clouds or mist. Almost instantly, A.先生 becomes transparent and vanishes, leaving only Sherlock Moriarty in stunned silence, gazing in wonder. "…The Night Church's rescue?" Ikonser frowned, "Unfortunately, he didn't mention what exactly happened at that moment in his letter. We have no way of guessing. Did he intend to sell this secret for a high price, or was he simply affected, losing the memory of the event?" Moreover, there was no indication of his escape from within that underground ruin—seemingly hidden not only in the records but also in the very traces of the corresponding clues... He swiftly analyzed it with his routine, then, without too much psychological burden, settled on framing the reception as his answer rather than a risk. Arodels seemed today devoid of any playful spirit—something he could fully exploit... As Ikonse comforted himself, the mirror gradually surfaced blood-streaked words. A sudden jolt passed through him, and he began to suspect that Arodels had already adjusted, regained his "state." The blood-like words swayed and swiftly coalesced into a question: "Who is the one you have sacrificed everything for, only to be discarded?" A soft hum resonated, and Ikonse's face first lost its color, then flushed deeply. This question pierced the hidden wounds at his core and left him utterly at a loss. If he reveals who he is before tonight, his reputation will be ruined... I have become, in a sense, a legend... Ekonser struggled to swallow, speaking with a desperate tone: "I choose punishment." Instantly, a lightning bolt descended—but unlike before, it no longer shone silver; it carried a hint of green. It struck precisely at Ekonser's head, making his hair stand on end and casting the green hue of the lightning. He shook violently, as though infused with a hallucinogenic drug. Bishop Horamik sighed, closed his eyes, and murmured to himself: "A Level 0 seal?" When Ekonser had recovered, he glanced around: "There's one more matter—I'd like to know where the key that夏洛克·莫里亚蒂 disrupted the arrival ritual came from. 'Who among you will use the '2–111'?' The 'Mechanical Heart' stewards and captains exchanged glances, looking at one another, yet none responded. ……… The sound of water rushed and splashed against the hull, as if the entire world had settled into that single rhythm—noisy yet hushed at night on the sea. Caine suddenly awoke, opened his eyes, and saw the wooden ceiling draped in crimson moon-silk. His intuitive sense told him something was afoot outside. Who was meeting? He leaned closer, catching faint, unnatural sounds. After a brief pause, Caine rolled over, donned his gloves, and pulled on his coat. His gaze deepened as he withdrew coins, tossed them upward, and swiftly performed a divination. With a reassuring sign of safety, he retrieved his revolver from beneath the pillow and tucked it into his coat pocket. Having made his preparations, Caine opened the door and stepped out, following the sounds to the upper deck. Now, free from industrial pollution, the crimson moon hung serene and dreamlike above the sea. Carefully navigating past several patrolling crew members, Caine reached the area where activity had begun, and caught a subtle hint of blood. He cast his gaze toward the past, guided by the moonlight, and noticed that the previous adventurer, Krivis, was crouched by the ship's side, arranging something. In the shadow of the ship's cabin, some fifteen meters away, three figures were hidden—first, Krivis's companion, a female bodyguard in a black coat; then, their employer's daughter, a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, and a young gentleman barely ten years old. The two young ones were dressed in thick nightgowns, each draped over a woolen coat, clearly having come out in a hurry. Though the night wind was cold and made them shiver, they remained alert and spirited, their eyes fixed intently on Krivis. Was this a game of hide-and-seek? thought Caine to himself. He deliberately stepped with heavier footfalls, drawing the attention of Krivis and his companions. "Friend," he said, recalling the mannerisms of some of the reward hunters he had met in the eastern district, "what has happened?" Yet he maintained the cool, sharp demeanor characteristic of his identity as Germain Spalro. Krivis spoke without changing his expression: "A side project, a hunting expedition that arrived unexpectedly—but one that now feels promising." Hunting? Klein suddenly became interested. He had chosen the name Germann for himself because it evoked the first hunter in a game he had played in a previous life, a concept that resonated well with his own vision of hunting evil at sea. Klein didn't rush to ask for details, instead, with a good-natured gesture, pointed with his left hand—wearing the "Crawling Hunger"—toward the shadow beside them. "A side project? Doing a side project in front of the employer?" Krivis, crouched there, glanced at the girl and the boy, and spoke with the same calm tone. "Cecil wasn't careful enough; he disturbed Tannah and Danton, so they had to come along." Upon hearing her name mentioned, the girl named Tannah wrinkled her nose, and with genuine curiosity, looked up at Klein. "Uncle, are you also an adventurer?" Uncle? Even on Earth, I'm only about ten years older than you! Klein chuckled, "No, we can't use the word 'also.' Strictly speaking, here I'm the only adventurer—right now, they're just bodyguards." He turned to Krivis and said, "Hey, partner, what have you found?" Krivis glanced at the sea, now tinged with a soft rose hue, and replied, "A merfolk." A merfolk? That's no ordinary creature! Though it's the most basic kind, it's still quite challenging for ordinary people to handle—usually requiring five or six people, four or five guns, to stand a chance... Oh, and the merfolk's scales are quite tough; a handgun can only partially penetrate them—only a repeating rifle can really make an impact. Klein arched an eyebrow and asked, "What are your plans? And how do you know it's a merfolk?" Krivis pointed to a spot on the ship's hull, "Here, there's a trace of mucus corrosion on the hull—this creature tried to climb aboard and attack the passengers about one to two hours ago. But at that time, the deck was bustling with activity—there were many sailors and crew members present." Klein took a few steps forward and indeed observed faint bluish-green corrosion marks along the ship's hull edge. He recalled the materials he had encountered in Tinggen, confirming the written accounts, and asked with genuine interest, "Why must it be one, rather than a group?" He remembered that merfolk tended to live in communities. "If it were a group, they would have directly damaged the hull, sinking everyone. Moreover, the group of merfolk in this channel and surrounding waters would have been long since eliminated—Storm Church members particularly enjoy hunting them," explained Krivics. This was because merfolk most likely corresponded to one of the primary ingredients of the Sequence 9 "Sailor" potion... Klein stroked the revolver in his coat pocket, smiled, and asked, "Are you certain?" Krivics didn't answer immediately. Instead, he opened a nearby paper package, revealing fresh pig and cow organs still damp with blood—exactly the source of the scent Klein had detected. "All fishfolk love these dishes and can't resist their allure. Of course, their favorite is human organs, so in many maritime legends, it's emphasized that fresh or canned pig and cow organs should be kept ready in the ship's kitchen." Krievs said, sprinkling some grains upward. "Pepper grains induce a marijuana-like excitement in fishfolk, causing a temporary loss of balance that lasts about one minute. After this, when the heightened excitement fades, the fishfolk become extremely fatigued." He then produced a wooden box from within his clothing, applying a bright green, creamy paste to the tips of the three-pronged spear, the dagger, and the short knife. "In Prilz Port, this mint paste is a unique sweet treat for humans, yet to fishfolk, it acts as a deadly blood-based toxin." "Also, I borrowed two infantry rifles from the sailors and secured a promise that they would not disturb us for twenty minutes—though it came at a considerable cost. As long as we successfully hunt down just one merman, the returns will be ten, twenty, or even thirty times our investment." Indeed, a seasoned adventurer—he has an exceptional grasp of his prey's vulnerabilities and challenges. Hearing this, I now feel confident that they truly have a chance of successfully hunting a merman, even if they are not extraordinary individuals. After all, lower-tier extraordinary beings do not fare much better than ordinary people when facing traps or ranged weapons; there have been numerous instances of lower-tier extraordinary beings falling victim to street brawls. Still, the merman is like a fully armored warrior—difficult to kill, it may take damage, but it doesn't necessarily mean it will escape. Curious, Cline asked, "You must have defeated several mermen already?" "Understanding the common traits of sea monsters is a fundamental requirement for any adventurer to survive," said Krivis, without showing any delight at being praised, remaining as calm as ever. As the two spoke, the young girl, Tana, and the boy, Danton, crouched in the shade, listening intently, finding it the most fascinating thing they had ever witnessed. Hmm, I should brush up on this too... Klein smiled. "Indeed, it's like that. I didn't interrupt you, were I?" Krivis, while threading portions of organs onto the suspension rods, spoke softly. "If you'd like to join in, simply take care of Tana and Danton so that Cecil won't have to be distracted." "Agreed," Klein said, happily accepting the offer to observe.