Cynthia could faintly sense the quiet, deep sorrow and helplessness in General Emirius, and without saying much more, simply held him tightly, offering the strength of companionship and mutual support to calm his spirit. After a simple dinner, Caine took a hot bath as usual and went into the most tranquil guest room, lying on the bed, gazing at the ceiling, lost in thought. He realized now that he was becoming deeply immersed in the role of General Emirius—the sense of helplessness toward fate and the quiet concealment of pain resonated strongly with his own life experiences, creating a profound sense of connection. If he hadn’t already mastered the balance between immersion and detachment, he might have felt a bit lost right now… Ah, it’s just like some actors from his past life who, once deeply absorbed in their roles, were unable to step out, eventually developing mental issues. For the extraordinary, such mental challenges might be magnified. While Caine’s mood was low, he remained clear about who he truly was. It wasn't expected that a high-ranking admiral, a saint half-god and half-human, still faced such profound helplessness and deep suffering... Strength brings many benefits, but it's not a universal remedy... Each person is unique—this is the most authentic aspect of a half-god... Caine watched the crimson moonlight grow more distinct, staining every piece of furniture in the room. At this very moment, through resonance with the experiences of General Emirius, through contrast with their differences, and through the reflections drawn from past roles, Klein has built a more three-dimensional, more authentic image of Emirius in his mind—while simultaneously making his own sense of self increasingly clear: a man deeply emotional; a man from Earth, yet partially reshaped by Klein Moretti’s fragmented memories; a man with only a relatively short tenure as a Night Watcher, profoundly shaped by that experience in his choices and actions; a man who is prudent, cautious of danger, yet capable of overcoming himself at crucial moments; a man who genuinely wants to avoid work, who craves delicious food, travel, and a fulfilling life—yet who is compelled to remain busy for more pressing matters; a man who admires beautiful women, yet who remains steadfast in principle and never allows himself to be compromised; a man who values money but who is willing to make substantial financial sacrifices for his siblings; a man who consistently hides his pain, displaying only a smile on the surface; a man who frequently vents inner criticism while maintaining a polished, courteous demeanor; a man who can overcome psychological barriers but who never crosses his personal boundaries Klein's lips curled slightly, silently adding a thought. As one after another of these thoughts passed through his mind, he felt as though he had truly touched "himself." Unconsciously, Klein drifted off to sleep, his body and spirit at peace. ........ In the master bedroom, Cynthia had also fallen asleep. She wore a robe, folding the blanket several times over, gently stroking it. Her hands unconsciously scratched her skin, leaving a series of red marks. In her dreams, she saw once again that ethereal, slightly unreal, beautiful starry sky, and the bright star blooming with light. As her vision drew closer, she gradually made out the details of that star. ........ Hmmm. Klein suddenly awoke from his dream. How could I be having these dreams? He furrowed his brows, hesitating, and turned his head slightly, unsure. Just now, he not only dreamed of Cynthia, developing a relationship beyond friendship with her, but also dreamed of Snowlen, the "Joyful Muse" he had previously encountered, of Sharon, the refined and doll-like lady, of the "Justice" lady whose appearance remained somewhat blurred, of Trisick, and of Tracie. For many extraordinary beings and ordinary people alike, this might simply be a recent surge of suppressed, natural reactions—but as a Seer, dreams carry special significance! This is not a typical Seer's prophetic dream; rather, it is an influence from outside—there are enemies! Kline was startled, and quickly formed his judgment. Meanwhile, he carefully turned over and got out of bed, swiftly donning the General's ceremonial attire. Now, equipped with both the "Ninth Law" sigil and the "Crawling Hunger," he possessed strong self-defense capabilities. Since he was uncertain about the current situation, Kline did not attempt to ascend into the gray mist, and continued to regard himself as Emirius. With a composed expression, Caine carefully walked to the door and grasped the handle. At that moment, he seemed finally reestablished in his interaction with the real world, hearing the noisy, chaotic sounds coming from outside. There were clear sounds of chewing, angry shouts, and sharp, urgent calls. What on earth had happened? Everything had been normal just a moment ago! Caine swallowed a lump of saliva, using meditation to maintain the necessary calm. ——He checked the villa daily through his "spirit vision," yet had never noticed any issues. Where were the general's guards? Where was Lu'ran's secretary? The more Caine thought about the current situation, the more strange and terrifying it seemed. With one hand touching the sigil of the Ninth Law, he allowed its deep dignity to radiate, calming the unease flowing through the air. Firmly gripping the handle with his left hand, Caine turned it and opened the door. He had not yet taken a single step when he spotted a waiter sitting across the corridor, dressed in a red apron. Before him were numerous dishes, both cooked and raw—steaks, lamb, sea bass, and large Orlavi lobster. At that moment, the waiter picked up the fish that seemed to have just finished struggling, raised his gaze toward Klein across the way, and stared blankly, offering a stunned smile. "Sir," he said, "I have always been so envious of the food you serve." His abdomen, now distinctly different from before, had swelled high, as if pregnant with a woman in her seventh or eighth month. As he spoke, he lifted both hands, bit fiercely into a piece of raw sea bass, and tore off a thick slab of meat. Fresh blood flowed from his lips. The sound of his chewing was so intense it sent a shiver through the very core of the room. He quickly moved his throat, swallowing the food, and his swollen belly heaved rhythmically, as though it might burst at any moment. This is an innate appetite control... Caine looked steadily at the serving staff before him, unexpectedly recalling the itinerant man who had died suddenly of a cardiac event after overeating. He didn't have time to reflect further nor attempt to save the serving staff who was now frantically consuming food, for he knew that unless the root cause of the issue was addressed, no amount of intervention would yield noticeable results. Caine moved forward with deliberate steps, guided by his spiritual intuition, carefully heading toward the master bedroom. There, two maids were positioned—one seated upon the other, bending down to press her hands firmly against the latter's throat. The upper maid beamed and shook the one beneath her, urgently urging, "Hurry, praise me! Hurry, praise me!" The desire for recognition... Caine furrowed his brow, took a few steps closer, and grasped the collar of the upper maid. *Crack!* He sent her sprawling against the opposite wall, knocking her unconscious. But this didn't prevent the female servant from crawling over again. The one below had been yawning continuously, her eyes barely open, even when her neck was squeezed—she seemed to never get enough sleep. Such a scene... for a moment, Caine found himself wanting to escape, to seek help from the Church and the military. Yet right now, the most capable figure on Orlavi Island is General Emirius! And I am Emirius right now... though if things go south, I'll have to retreat—no matter the cost, I can't risk my life just to play the part. Caine's scalp tingled slightly as he pushed open the slightly ajar door to the master bedroom. The first scent that reached his nose came from beyond the door, mingling with a variety of other aromas that instantly conjured up a vivid scene in his mind. Then, Caine saw his golden-haired secretary, Lurian. He stood by the doorway, gazing into the room with a detached, superior posture, his arrogance seeming tangible. Noticing someone enter, he turned to look back and saw General Emile. His expression remained unchanged, his gaze equally steady—just as if observing an ordinary person, a minor figure. This secretary was usually so respectful—how could he be so arrogant? Klein had intended to ask General Lurian, who seemed to still possess reason, a question, but upon looking, he saw the other shift his gaze again, now observing the central area of the main bedroom with an air of superiority. He merely appeared normal—Klein followed Lurian’s line of sight and noticed a figure standing on the bed at the center of the main bedroom, towering three meters high. The other officers, guards, and maids were scattered across the bedroom floor in uneven groups. What a monster this was—Klein once again updated his knowledge of the esoteric arts, lowering his left hand naturally, preparing for battle. At that moment, the head of the towering three-meter figure turned toward him. She is a woman with golden long hair and blue eyes—Cynthia! Cynthia looked down at Kline and said, "General, I think..." ps: It seems the system automatically made the changes. The rest is fine, but the physical description must be preserved, otherwise no one would know what kind of enemy they were facing... Well, otherwise the entire atmosphere would be lost.