"What? He knows me?" The plump pharmacist, known as Dacwell, was startled and asked softly. The owl, with its round, wide eyes fixed ahead, replied, "I've noticed he seemed to pause for two seconds after entering and seeing you." "Perhaps he finds my appearance inconsistent with the image he has of a pharmacist," the pharmacist firmly countered. The owl spread and then folded its wings: "If you see it that way, I can't really argue." "...What books have you been reading recently?" the pharmacist asked, his round cheeks shifting slightly. The owl responded seriously and earnestly: "My reading preferences depend on your level of knowledge. Unfortunately, the vocabulary you possess—what you're willing to share with me—is quite limited. As a result, I've had to settle for popular novels with simpler language. All of these are serialized in newspapers." "Dakwer, the plump physician, gave a sigh: 'I'm going to buy a cookbook upon my return—The Eastern Baelan Bird-Cooking Guide.' Before the owl could speak further, he settled his expression and murmured to himself: 'Does he know me? He looks like a typical Ruunian, at least with more than half Ruunian blood. 'I've used a pseudonym in several Ruunian cities, so it's not surprising that someone recognizes me. But I must remain vigilant—should I not hear from the old man by March, I'll have to leave here...' As he spoke, he glanced at the owl perched on his shoulder: 'Sometimes, you're quite useful after all.' "No, your eyes, your body language tell me what you truly think: *Honestly, I wanted a pet that could help me fight monsters and mob enforcers—someone truly capable. I meticulously gathered the magical recipes and exceptional materials according to dragon standards. Instead, I ended up with a dull, newspaper-and-drama-obsessed bird! Honestly, I'd like to pour a whole potion into it!* That owl delivered the complaint with the very tone and flair of the plump apothecary. "I'm not good at finding people, so I have to rely on them. And I'll only pay them—never a single penny more—once I've actually found them or confirmed the old man's whereabouts," the plump apothecary said, then sighed. "The old man always claims to be a lucky one, a winner of fate. He shouldn't have any trouble, surely..." I believe in the thick-drugged apothecary. Though he's a bit foul-mouthed and sharp-tongued, his heart is genuinely good. Moreover, Captain Airlan considers his remedies effective enough. As for Germain Spalro, Klein didn't respond to Daniz's questions—he simply picked up the paper bag and tossed it over. No words were needed; Daniz understood that it was his turn to prepare the medicine. Recently, he'd grown accustomed to such tasks, and now he felt no urge to resist at all. Back at the "Blue Wind" inn, Klein found a chair and sat down, watching Daniz light the fireplace, hang the clay pot, and add water and herbs. Leaning back, Klein felt a heavy, drowsy sensation in his head, utterly drained, as if he might fall asleep at any moment. To wait for the medicine to simmer and resolve his illness as soon as possible, he forced himself to think about various matters to combat his drowsiness: "Take a close look—had I not launched a successful surprise attack early on, effectively suppressing her and preventing her from entering her own preferred rhythm until the very end, when she could finally fade into the background and gain distance, I might have been outmatched by her. "The combination of invisibility and illness is truly a game-changer. When paired with the assassin's decisive strike and the delightful distractions, it becomes nearly impossible to attack or escape. You're left helpless, gradually weakening, succumbing to various ailments, even being enchanted and eventually giving up resistance. "On one hand, this reflects the strength of every Sequence 5, truly approaching semi-divine status. On the other hand, it reveals clear shortcomings in the synergy between the various abilities within 'The Crawling Hunger,' far from being fully comprehensive or flawless. "Um, the 'Seer' path's Sequence 5 ability, 'Master of Hidden Figures,' is particularly effective against stealth... Recently, I could help the stout pharmacist locate his teacher, but with only a few photos and limited information, it's all down to luck—seeing when the right leads just happen to present themselves. After all, I'm not a god who can summon people out of thin air... Wait—on some level, I am indeed a god! I can have the followers of 'Poseidon' assist in the search. As long as that gentleman named Roy King has visited Byam, he'll inevitably meet someone, be seen by someone, and most of the native residents quietly venerate 'Poseidon.' That's the sea of the people, in full tide. Also, before Captain Elran departs Byam, I'd like him to introduce me to some military contacts. Then, whenever I have updates, I can submit them for reimbursement. And while I'm at it, I'll check the passenger records from the last few months—see if there's anyone named Roy King." "There's another option— the radio has been sitting atop the gray mist for some time now. Once I lift it, I should be able to reach Arōdes the Mirror. I originally intended to ask about Ilean's whereabouts, but now I no longer need to search for that red-haired lady; I can simply contact Roy King instead. 'Hey, I've got three different ways to find people— things that completely baffled so many adventurers!'... As my thoughts raced, Cline finally managed to complete the potion preparation. Holding the bottle of deep green, slightly darkened liquid brought by Daniz, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take it, then bringing it to his lips. Gulp! Immediately, he felt a searing heat in his throat, his face flushing red— a memory of the intense spiciness he'd experienced in a previous life rushed back. Suddenly, he became fully alert, and his previously congested nose cleared swiftly. Gulp, gulp… He managed to finish drinking it, and surprisingly, he felt as though his illness had already improved by half." By evening, he was completely recovered, with no further doubt about the "Pharmacist's" abilities. It was no wonder the potion bore the name "Pharmacist"... Kline donned his hat and, together with Daniz, left the inn, stepping out of Bayam into the night and arriving at a secluded private harbor hidden on the other side of the jungle. Tonight, the *Golden Dream* would provide aid to the rebel forces. After some coordination and delays, Daniz successfully used the "Elevating Rite" to establish contact with Admiral Edwena of the Ice Mountain. Some time later, the ship—always impeccably clean, with its unusual main guns—entered the private harbor, its vast canvas bearing five types of gold coins: the gold pounds of Run, the gold houns of Vosak, the fergins of Intis, the gold lirons of Feneport, and the sassen gold of Lemburg. These were the flags of the *Golden Dream*, the very emblem of the pirate fleet. Still not quite professional. If it were me, I'd include Ma Xí's Portuguese gold coins, Ségard's zloty, the Baylang Empire's engraved coins, and so on, and so forth... Kline stood by, hands in his pockets, watching Edwena Edwards emerge at the ship's prow. At that moment, she wore a hunter's cap and a fitted rider's shirt paired with a black coat—exactly the image of a female pirate general that the resistance envisioned. Her usual attire would make people think of her merely as a household teacher. Kline muttered under his breath and stepped back, allowing Daniz to move freely, bustling about. During this demanding engagement with the high-reward pirate Daniz—whose bounty reached 5,500 pounds—a consignment of grain and textiles was successfully delivered to the resistance forces, including Karat. The transaction was concluded. Daniz took a quiet breath and approached Kline, smiling warmly. "Is there nothing else?" "May I return to the *Golden Dream*?" "And, how shall I calculate my daily retainer for these past days?" "That was merely an excuse we came up with—on some level, these grains and textiles are actually my compensation." Klein nodded. "Your captain has already settled the payment. You may now return." "Really?" Daniz seemed almost incredulous. Though the flagship, the Ice Mountain Admiral Edwenna, was not far behind, he still feared that Germain Spaulo might suddenly lose his mind. Klein said nothing, simply turned and walked directly toward the path leading out of the private harbor. Daniz exhaled silently, holding back his excitement, and hurried back to the Golden Dream. Only when the ship disappeared into the night, and the private harbor—once a stronghold of the rebels—seemed to shrink ever smaller, did he truly feel that he had returned to the Golden Dream. At that moment, he realized that the past fifteen days had been filled with so many extraordinary events—the intensity of it all felt like a vivid dream. At that moment, a seaman approached, curious and asked, "Captain, was it really you who killed 'Steel' McVitt?" Daniz burst into laughter immediately, glanced briefly at the captain beside him, Edwenna, and then said to his crew, "I've made a significant contribution to this matter—let's raise our drinks and talk about it!" Against the deep, dark sea, the "Golden Dream" sailed farther and farther away. ........ Upon returning to the "Blue Wind" inn, Kline was about to go to sleep when he suddenly noticed the colors around him becoming unusually vivid. The white bedsheet appeared even whiter, the brown floor more golden-brown, and the dark red curtains seemed to bleed like fresh blood. From among the layered hues, Azk Egers stepped out, emerging from ripples of ethereal water. He remained dressed in a shirt, tie, tailcoat, and high hat, with warm copper skin and gentle features. I really envy that... I'd love to have such the ability to travel between the spiritual realms... Kline murmured to himself, maintaining his composure and smiling warmly as he greeted, "Good evening, Mr. Azk." Azk removed his hat, glanced at the rather unfamiliar face, and chuckled pleasantly, "Sorry, I came too hurriedly—I should have knocked first." "What exactly is the matter with the documents related to the Death Gods?" Kline asked as he invited him to sit, going through the details that couldn't be fully conveyed in the letter, and casually mentioned the matter concerning the port of Valsig, where it involved the Angel King Medici and His descendants. Leaning back against the chair, Azk frowned slightly, "I recall that name—He was known as the 'Red Angel' and the 'War Angel.'... But He has already fallen." "Already fallen?" Kline asked, surprised. Azk nodded, pondering deeply. "I remember—he was killed by the 'Emperor of Blood,' Alistair Tord." Killed by the 'Emperor of Blood,' Alistair Tord? Kline's pupils narrowed, suddenly recalling the malevolent spirit that had wandered in the underground ruins of Beckland for over a thousand years. It claimed to be an innocent victim slain by the 'Emperor of Blood'!