Tik-tik-tik. In the dim light and under the rosy glow of the moon, the radio receiver emitted a fresh, ethereal sheet of paper: "A spirit of the fourth age of the Zoroastrian family resides within Leonard Mitchell. It once altered my questions." A spirit? An angel dwelling within Leonard Mitchell? An angel from the fourth age of the Zoroastrian family? Although Kline had anticipated hearing something extraordinary, he was still stunned by the revelation from the magic mirror, Arodos. This was both concern and astonishment. Angels referred to the extraordinary beings of Sequence 2 and Sequence 1, who stood close to the true gods, possessing remarkable qualities and even capable of influencing lower-sequence members within certain ranges—thus, among the most prominent figures at the pinnacle of the real world. Only the popes, patriarchs, and certain legendary ascetic saints were considered earthly angels in the major churches. Therefore, Kline believed that being inhabited by a being of this caliber was far from favorable. "In the dark Second Age, even angels could possess divine names and serve as deputies to the ancient gods... The angels I've directly or indirectly encountered are few: one is the 'Profane One,' Amun; another is the 'Queen of Heavenly Calamities,' Ghisnam; a third is a malevolent spirit believed to be the 'Red Angel,' Medici; a fourth is Ulorius, the 'Tail-Eater' spoken of by the young 'Sun'; a fifth is Chalatu, the 'Miracle-Worker' mentioned in Roser's journal; a sixth is Adam, the Son of the Creator; a seventh is Hermes, whose very status as an angel remains uncertain; and an eighth is Will. Oncetin, the 'Snake of Destiny' who was already within my mother's womb... Except for the last two, all the others seem profoundly strange—so much so that even the surviving texts can drive readers mad and uncontrollable. Will the poet classmate eventually become a victim of angelic parasitism? This indeed explains why he feels himself to be the protagonist of a drama, the special one, willing to help me conceal secrets. The Soloyasde family follows the 'Thief's Klein's thoughts raced, yet he couldn't find a clear path forward and had to temporarily set the matter aside, intending to write letters later to Mr. Azk and "Mercury Serpent" Wil. Aunseitin to inquire whether they might have any suggestions. In those few minutes just now, he even considered using "The渎神者" Amun—essentially revealing to this son of the Creator the fact that the angel from the Zoroastrian family had been parasitizing within Leonard Mitchell, hoping that Amun would then consume the parasite. According to Klein's knowledge, during the Fourth Age, the Amun family supported the Tudor Empire, while the Zoroastrian family belonged to the Solomon Empire, making them rivals. Moreover, by the Law of Conservation of Exceptional Properties, within the same lineage, stronger entities at higher sequences often experience greater conflict—much like the rivalry between two "Mercury Serpents." Unfortunately, this approach was hampered by practical difficulties and ultimately abandoned by Caine. First, he simply didn't know where to find the "profane one" Amon. Second, he feared that the conflict among the angelic beings would directly destroy Leonard Mitchell. Third, he worried that strengthening Amon might prove to be a serious detriment. He decided to first send Emlyn to attempt the negotiation, while simultaneously observing the situation closely, and only then, once he had gathered more details, would he make a final decision. Caine settled his thoughts and addressed the radio receiver connected to the magical mirror, Arodos: "Ask your question." The radio receiver's voice grew lively and cheerful, and the ethereal sheet of paper gently exhaled: "No, it's not necessary. This is merely an accompanying question, not bound by the rules. Great Lord, I have sensed something unusual outside your room, yet I cannot make it out clearly. Could you tell me what it is?" "Indeed, this mirror is quite remarkable—it seems capable of seeing everything, though higher-level matters are often disrupted, appearing as if blurred... Cline responded calmly: 'The Dice of Probability.' With a soft tapping sound, Arodès manifested new words upon the ethereal white sheet: 'Ah, the great master, you may now pose your questions.' Cline pondered a moment and asked: 'Regarding the "Dice of Probability," do you have any advice or observations to share?' At that moment, the radio receiver seemed to brighten slightly, no longer as somber as before, and the flow of words from the ethereal sheet slowed: 'It's a rather petty, easily resentful creature. You must deliver it to someone else promptly! It is the only tangible form of the "Wheel of Fate." You may give it to any of the "Mercury Snakes," and they will be most grateful. In short, it is not suited to serve you.' "My breath is nearly fading. With the utmost loyalty and humility, my servant Arōdes must now depart. Once again, I praise you, my great master, Sovereign of the Spiritual Realm—farewell." "Uniqueness"... "The Dice of Probability"—turns out to be the "Uniqueness" of the "Monster" Path... This is the first time I've witnessed what is truly meant by "Uniqueness." Indeed, it is profoundly terrifying—capable of quantifying the entire reality. The "Monster" Path is also known as the "Wheel of Fate" Path. Is Sequence 0 the "Wheel of Fate"? Klein gazes at the now-restored radio receiver, his thoughts momentarily scattered. He harbors no sense of greed toward "The Dice of Probability." This is because the entity does not belong to the "Seer" Path, and inherently carries a deeply unsettling negative effect. Moreover, he fears that over time, the dice—bearing a grudge—might draw the "Tail-Eater" Ulorius toward it. "Once this thing is tossed into the Gray Mists, even if it's isolated and sealed within, it's likely to data-ize that mysterious space. Who knows—future Tarot gatherings might just turn into tabletop RPG sessions..." Klein had never encountered such high-level matters and had no way of judging what would happen once the 'Dice of Probability' was placed upon the Gray Mists. He decided to continue intimidating the dice, ensuring a smooth delivery to Orlavi Island, where he would hand it over to a member of the Life School capable of sealing it. As for the issue of exceeding task requirements, he didn't mind at all, since the greatest benefit was securing the friendship of 'Fate's Serpent,' Will Onsight. Emlyn stood up, donning a tailcoat paired with a white shirt, and glanced out the window. Ah, he had secrets, and so did I. I daresay Lord Nibays or some noble lord was quietly watching me—should anything unexpected happen, they’d surely step in to lend a hand... to sleep. Emlyn considered for a few seconds, then produced a series of small metal bottles, carefully blending the spiritually charged ingredients into a bottle of deep blue elixir. He set the bottles and elixir aside, took up his silk hat, and stepped out of the lounge, bidding farewell to Bishop Utrofski, and departed from the Harvest Church. It was just morning, yet the sky above Beckland was notably overcast, with a thin, watery mist spreading gently. Emlyn narrowed his eyes, donned his hat, and murmured to himself, "The sunlight is rather bright..." He stopped a hired carriage and headed straight for the steam railway station, purchasing a first-class ticket to the northern district for six pence. That saved him considerable time compared to going directly there! Forty minutes later, he arrived at his destination and stood outside the door of No. 7, Pinstreet. Emlyn politely rang the bell and waited patiently for a minute. Just as he was about to write a note, slip it through the door, and arrange to visit again, he finally heard the slow, casual approach of footsteps. Not a servant, then—Emlyn gave a barely perceptible nod, produced the prepared potion, opened the bottle, and drank it steadily. Then, he saw the door open and a man with dark hair and green eyes appear—dressed in a casual white shirt and black trousers, the hem of his clothes fluttering gently in the breeze, exuding a relaxed elegance with a touch of unconventionality. Though a night-blooming believer, he could hardly be said to fall short of our vampire lineage in appearance. Emlyn removed his hat and slightly inclined his chin. "Good morning, Mr. Leonard Mitchell?" Leonard furrowed his brow slightly, gazing at the handsome man with striking red eyes before him, raised his hand to cover his mouth, and gave a seemingly casual yawn. "You are?" "An visitor," said Emlyn, offering a slightly proud smile without revealing his identity. "I have something I'd like you to help me with." The tone and demeanor struck Leonard as unexpectedly familiar—like seeing himself from the past, always convinced of his own uniqueness, the central figure of his time. Clearing his throat, he replied, "I'm just an ordinary citizen; I don't take on commissions. 'You should go to a private detective,' I'd say." Emlyn smiled gently. "This particular task can only be accomplished by you." He glanced around, then continued. "I wish to purchase a magical item that can steal someone else's extraordinary abilities." Leonard's gaze sharpened, and he asked seriously, "Then who exactly are you?" At this moment, Emlin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced around, chuckling softly. "Indeed, quite impressive—I hadn't even noticed I'd been drawn into this dream." He didn't rush to leave, and from the serious expression on Leonard Mitchell's face, he produced the small insignia from "the World." Leonard studied it, his expression softening slightly, then tilted his head, pausing for a few seconds. In silence, Emlin White watched as the scenes around him rapidly shattered and faded, as though a series of glass panes had been broken simultaneously. Leonard exhaled, pointing toward the room. "Come in and talk then." PS: The update was delayed until early morning; tomorrow will be as usual.