Has the Storm Church finally taken action against Banzhi Port? Kline clenched his fists against his lips, cleared his throat, and asked with no hesitation or embarrassment, "What's going on?" Arlan didn't detect any unusual reactions on Gorman Sparrow's face, so he shifted his gaze and surveyed the room. "I'm not entirely clear on the specifics, only that it may involve the highest-level powers of the Storm Church. In the period before this, all routes to Banzhi Port have been canceled—this might very well be the sign." Involving the highest-level powers of the Storm Church? No, it should be the very top tier. I suspect even the Pope of the Storm Church—the earthly angel—has personally stepped in, possibly even deploying a zero-level seal object. After all, the opposition might hold an Angel King, an ancient Angel King older than the Fourth Age, along with His descendants... Kline nodded, calmly asking, "What happened?" He was not at all surprised that the Storm Church had only recently decided to act against Banzhi Port—despite the fact that its "Penitents" were known for their impatience and impulsiveness. In matters of great significance, certain procedures still had to be followed: initial assessments, the evacuation of innocent civilians, the sealing off of surrounding waters—all of which required time. Elan could not discern the true emotions behind Gorman Sparrow's expression, only offering a sigh and a smile. "For a long time to come, Banzhi Port will no longer exist."...Indeed, the Storm Church lives up to its reputation. Klein silently admired this, growing increasingly curious about the finer details. He wanted to know whether the "Red Angel," Medici, had appeared—whether she truly slept near Banzhi Port, or whether she had already been eliminated by the Storm Church. He wanted to understand what had become of the native inhabitants of Banzhi Port, what the intermittent manner of speech meant, and what secrets lay hidden within the green lemon restaurant and the telegraph office. Unfortunately, with the destruction of Banxi Port, he could no longer obtain clear answers. Perhaps the internal records of the Storm Church would contain some details, but Caine had no way of accessing them—being at the rank of "The Hangman," he simply couldn't reach the confidential archives. Only when I've nurtured the "Hangman" into a high-tier, half-divine, half-human powerhouse will I be able to know the answers to those questions... Caine sighed silently, maintaining his composed expression and saying, "It is indeed very dangerous there." As he finished speaking, his throat itched again, and he coughed violently. "Ill?" Elran asked, slightly puzzled. He had originally assumed that Germain Spalro was like himself—a particularly robust extraordinary being whose body would naturally strengthen, making illness unlikely before aging—but now it seemed his own assumption might be mistaken. Caine nodded once, offering no further explanation. There wasn't any question of value or meaning at all… After battling the "ill girl," it would be strange indeed if she hadn't ended up well. Daniz muttered disdainfully from the side. He took a moment to reflect and realized that over the past few months, aside from this period, he had only passed through Bayam during the early stages of the holidays. For the rest of the time, he had either been drifting at sea in search of treasure or enjoying drinks and leisure at various ports, thus lacking a deep understanding of the subtle changes in the "City of Generosity." "I've been in Bayam for several days now, visiting the Red Theater multiple times, yet I've never heard of this apothecary! This can only mean his tonic for vitality isn't very effective!" Daniz insisted proudly. Elran smiled, choosing not to argue with the sea-dwelling pirate, and turned to Gérard Sparrow. "For ordinary ailments, the apothecary's fees would be only slightly higher. "And for you, cost isn't the primary concern—what matters most is recovering quickly. Every adventurer would rather avoid illness, since it brings danger, makes them a constant target for others, and increases the risk of losing control." Indeed, maintaining good health is quite important for someone extraordinary—but price matters too, doesn’t it? If the apothecary demands a thousand pounds, I’d rather go to the hospital and buy medicine there, or describe my illness in detail and seek out Emlyn White, this honest vampire, to get me a few potions! Though I currently have over six thousand pounds in savings and several extraordinary traits, I must also think ahead. I still intend to acquire a magical item with deadly offensive power, and I need to pursue the clues leading to high-sequence potion recipes… Klein muttered a few thoughts to himself. In the mystical world, the recipes for high-sequence potions cannot be measured solely in money, which is precisely why he wanted to purchase the relevant clues. Once Elran had departed, Klein took the seven hundred pounds in bonus pay and gave Daniz two hundred pounds. He put on his hat, took his cane, and stepped out, occasionally coughing and clearing his nose, ready to take the carriage to the Red Theatre area. Danzig was curious about the pharmacist's preparations, so he tucked on a pair of mustaches, donned a baseball cap, and followed along—having, under Klein's guidance, come to appreciate how striking it was in Bayam to cover one's face with a scarf, and thus having adopted the suggestion and purchased a set of false whiskers. ………… As soon as Klein entered the alley across from the Red Theater, he spotted a man hesitatingly stepping out of a herb shop without a signboard, lowering his head immediately upon seeing someone, and hurrying off. Don't worry—we won't guess what preparations you've purchased… Klein coughed twice, quickened his pace, and entered the dim herb shop. As he glanced around, he paused, startled, for the shopkeeper turned out to be a familiar face. The boss wore a black robe reminiscent of a country wizard, was in his thirties, had black hair and brown eyes, with a round face and a plump build—exactly the stout pharmacist who had been outspoken and often sarcastic toward the elder at the gathering convened by the "Eye of Wisdom" in Bekkan. Klein had once seen him at a circus and recognized him there. He had stopped attending the elder's gatherings of the extraordinary figures because he had left Bekkan. Klein cleared his throat and stepped forward two paces. "Please prescribe some potions for me." A round-eyed owl perched on the pharmacist's shoulder; both man and bird lifted their heads to gaze at Klein. After a brief observation, the pharmacist offered a somewhat ambiguous smile. "Friend, with the weather so cold, you should avoid doing those outdoor things." What on earth was he talking about? Klein was first taken aback, then gradually understood why the pharmacist had said this. "While I was fighting with Tracy, the pleasure ability affected my blood flow, causing a hollow sensation in my body and making me more susceptible to illness—diseases invading swiftly and easily. As I fled, the cold seawater was soothing thanks to divine magic, but the wind along the way was quite chilly, worsening my condition. In sum, doesn't this feel just like catching a cold in the wild? Truly, you're a sharp-eyed pharmacist—your insight is remarkable." Kline maintained his expression, gazing steadily at the plump pharmacist without speaking or responding, simply waiting for the remedy to be prepared. Danyz, meanwhile, turned his head toward the herb shop's exterior, struggling to suppress a smile. "What a lousy pharmacist! Even the illnesses spread by 'the Illness Maiden' can't escape your notice!" he thought with pride. Seeing that the pharmacist wasn't engaging with his thoughts, Danyz opened one cabinet after another, retrieving both common and unusual herbs and shells, placing them into a paper bag and handing it over: "Place all of these in water and boil for thirty minutes. Then drink the resulting liquid." "Four sulers"—a bit on the premium side... Caine glanced at Daniz beside him. Daniz immediately reached into his pocket and produced cash. The plump pharmacist, while receiving the money, bent slightly forward, lowered his voice, and chuckled warmly, "I have a potion that can make you even more outstanding in that regard—specifically one with mummy powder. Would you like to try it? I'm certain you'll be delighted. 'I know you're strong, but men always seek stronger ones,' right?" "First of all, I need a girlfriend..." Caine shook his head coldly, declining the pharmacist's pitch. The pharmacist sighed, straightening up with a sense of disappointment. He glanced thoughtfully between the two, then casually asked, "Are you both adventurers?" "Yes." Caine answered simply. The pharmacist rubbed his hands. "I have a commission, though—I only pay once it's completed." "How much?" Caine narrowed his eyes. "One hundred pounds!" "I'm so worried," the plump pharmacist called out, "help me find someone. His name is Roy Kin. He's my teacher, and he asked me to come here to meet him. But I've waited for several months and still haven't seen him—nor can I reach him at all." "Any portrait, or photograph?" asked Kline. From a hidden pouch at his waist, the pharmacist produced a photograph and handed it over. It showed a rather young man with neatly combed hair, wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses, appearing refined and well-mannered. "Your teacher?" Kline asked. "If you say he's my teacher, I might believe you...," said the pharmacist, clearing his throat. "He's at least sixty, though he looks much younger." Kline nodded thoughtfully, pondering whether it was extraordinary ability or magical items at play, and asked for more details. After confirming that no objects could assist in the divination, he took the paper bag and left the herb shop. When their backs disappeared at the end of the alley, the owl standing on the fat pharmacist's shoulder suddenly spoke: "Dakwiel, that man might know you."