Bang! The bronze-colored bullet pierced halfway through the bar and struck the body of Misor Gold, the Speaker. Yet, as it was about to hit, Misor's brown eyes suddenly deepened. The bullet veered slightly upward and precisely struck a glass cup filled with golden beer. With a loud crash, the cup shattered instantly, scattering the beer in all directions. At the same time, Misor grasped a guest's cup, extended his arms, and swung it toward Caine. What did this mean? Caine merely slightly leaned aside, avoiding the glass cup, which then shattered against the wall. Then, Misor surged forward, rolling and then rushing toward the entrance to the lower level, attempting to enter and seek allies or escape through a hidden passage. He initially believed that the stranger and the wildly erratic adventurer was the one who had disguised himself as Elean, boarding the Black Death and launching an attack on the "General of Illness," Tracie. Yet the near-success of his opponent made him realize that, in one-on-one combat, he was no match for him! This was a true Admiral-level strength! Tsk-tsk-tsk! Kline surged forward at high speed toward the "Orator" Misoel. His figure was swift and agile, and within this chaotic tavern, he barely stepped on anyone. As the guards from the underground area raised their rifles and approached, as Misoel Kin was about to pass through the entrance, and as the watchmen around the tavern began to gather toward him, Kline hesitated not at all—he suddenly gripped his left hand tightly. The black gloves on that hand instantly covered a fine, dense layer of dark golden scales. His deep brown eyes instantly lightened, as if the scales had risen vertically. Then, an invisible wave surged outward from him, spreading rapidly in all directions. Wherever this wave passed, the patrons who had been clutching their heads and crouching down collapsed, trembling violently. Even the military liaison officer Us Kent clearly lost his composure, as though facing the most terrifying and dreadful event imaginable, and simply wanted to escape the place. The bar attendants who had drawn closer were no different—overwhelmed by profound fear, they ran aimlessly throughout the space, exacerbating the chaos. Clang! Clang! Clang! The guards in the lower area dropped their rifles, some rushing to corners and huddling together, others standing rigidly, their trousers visibly dampening with each tremor. "The Orator" Misor was struck dumb, circling anxiously at the entrance as though struck by lightning. This was the "psychologist's" "demonstration of awe," also known as the "Dragon's Presence" or "group disarray!" It was the only range-control extraordinary ability currently available to Cline. At this very moment, Cline's swift strides did not cease—he covered several steps and reached Misor's side in a flash. In that instant, a vivid scene unfolded in his mind: Misor, seemingly paralyzed by fear, suddenly raised his head, twisted his torso, and delivered a powerful right punch straight toward his own face. Klein didn't hesitate—he fully trusted the "Jester's" instinctive sense of danger and immediately bent at the waist, then leaned to the side. At the same moment, the "Orator" Misor suddenly lifted his head, his brown-olive eyes dark and clear, showing no sign of confusion. He had already escaped the influence of the "Dragon's Might"! This was entirely unexpected by Klein. Thud! Misor's muscles contracted, his spine twisted, and his arms swung out, hurling a punch that seemed like a cannonball—but it missed its intended target, striking instead against the wall at the entrance. Clang! At the point where the punch landed, stone and brick shattered, quickly forming a large opening surrounded by a network of fine cracks, as if the entire tavern had trembled. The force of this punch far exceeded that of a revolver's bullet. By this time, Klein had already slipped to Misor's side and rear, straightening his body, his gloves now appearing to have shimmered with a golden sheen. Two bolts of lightning flashed within his deep brown eyes, shooting forth like bullets—"Interrogator!" "Mental Piercing!" "Ah!" Misor Kin gasped, yet did not fall to the ground. Instead, he writhed in pain, lifting his hands to shield his head. He soon recovered miraculously from the agony of the mental piercing, though he sensed a cold metal tube pressing against his forehead, and saw the stern, lean adventurer depress the trigger. Even if the "Mental Piercing" effect lasted only a single second, the proximity between them was sufficient for Caine to raise his right arm and press the muzzle of his revolver firmly against Misor Kin's temple. *Crack!* Misor Kin's plea for mercy was swallowed by his half-opened mouth. A vivid, fragmented image—composed of scattered crimson dots and a few streaks of white—appeared on the wall behind his head, striking with poignant intensity and sharp clarity. The brilliance faded from his eyes, and Misor fell backward, leaning against the wall and sliding down to the ground. On the noon of February 1, 1350, "The Eloquence" Misor was hunted. Klein glanced at the still-disordered bar, then swiftly closed the door to the underground area, lashing it shut with the existing iron chains and securing them firmly. Bending at the waist, he dragged Misor Jin several steps toward the underground area, yet did not enter directly. Keeping watch for any possible attackers bursting out from within, he spread his left palm and positioned himself above, facing the body of "The Eloquence" Misor. As for the third officer in charge of the Black Death, he felt no psychological burden—certainly believing the other party deeply culpable. First, Misol had once served as a subordinate to Admiral Zilinger, the "Hurricane," who, even after his passing, had been known to slaughter entire crews—an exceptionally cold-hearted man, as evidenced by the "Dream of the Red Glove," the haunting experience of the "Creeping Hunger." Second, Misol now served under the "Admiral of Illness," thereby indirectly serving the Order of the Maidens, a body deeply involved in numerous human trafficking operations. The "Creeping Hunger" had regained its thin human skin, with a fissure opening at the palm, revealing two vivid red eyes. Black, yet not dim, luminous points surged rapidly from the corpse and merged with counterparts within Misool's spirit, jointly entering the "Crawling Hunger," and penetrating one of the blank fingers, establishing a connection with the surrounding environment. The "Crawling Hunger" first deepened into a profound, eerie, and noble black, then returned to its original state, radiating a clear hunger for flesh and blood. Kaine quietly sensed for several seconds, feeling pleasantly surprised to find that the abilities drawn this time were remarkably practical—though limited to only two, they surpassed the three he had previously drawn from the "Living Dead"! At this point, he realized that Misool was a Sequence 6 "Corrupted Baron" from the "Lawyer" path, and the two abilities he had drawn—one from the "Corrupted Baron" and the other from the corresponding Sequence 7 "Bribe-taker"—had proven particularly effective. The former, "Twisting," involves distorting the target's language, actions, and intentions to establish a favorable, self-serving order, thereby restricting or influencing the opponent. The latter is called "bribery," yet it is merely one aspect of the "briber's" broader range of bribery capabilities—specifically, "bribery that weakens." To employ this ability, one must first offer the target something tangible, after which the target's attacks, defenses, or controls against the giver can be significantly diminished over a defined period. What tangible offering? Just a cup of wine thrown to me counts as "bribery"? Indeed, the hallmark of the "Black Emperor" path—skillfully exploiting the seams in order while projecting an aura of authority and dominance. It's no wonder my "Dragon's Might" and "Mental Piercing" failed to make an impact on Misol—even the force of the bullets seemed to wane, and I had expected that single shot to shatter his skull. Now, Caine suddenly grasps it. At the same time, he understands why he had instinctively been drawn toward the "Black Emperor" vessel, toward the "Lord of the Five Seas," Nastur—because the latter had subtly distorted his original intentions, making it impossible for him to halt. It's decent... Kline glanced down at the body of Misor, the "Orator," and headed toward the underground area. He needed to find some food for the "Thriving Hunger." Perhaps due to being repeatedly cast upon the Ashy Mists, the "Thriving Hunger" wasn't yet frenzied—it seemed capable of bearing patience, so Kline didn't rush. He moved steadily, cautious of any unforeseen developments. Just a few steps in, he spotted Ozar, the "Powerful One," leading a group of subordinates out—among them were several exceptional warriors and archers, quite a number! Kline's expression remained unchanged, and his black gloves once again covered the dark golden scales. His eyes grew paler, as if rising, and an invisible wave surged forward instantly. "Psychologist!" "Dragon's Might!" PS: This entry is a bit short and still unedited, because I was lazy yesterday and haven't saved a draft. Tonight, I'll have to compose and save another one. Manual comedy.