As the gunshot rang out, Anderson's entire body suddenly collapsed, awkwardly twisting to avoid the bullets. Unaware of what was happening, Klein leapt sideways to the other side, activating his spiritual vision and drawing his revolver. At that instant, his first thought was that Anderson had been too aggressive in his hunting yesterday, drawing a response—so he simply wanted to shout, "I don't know him! It has nothing to do with me!" Meanwhile, at the table near Anderson Hude, a sturdy man in a shirt with sleeves rolled up dropped his knife and fork, swiftly pulled out a double-barreled hunting gun that had already been loaded from beneath the chair, and aimed it at the ground, pressing the trigger with a commanding posture. His actions were nearly simultaneous with the hotel owner's shot, only slightly delayed due to the extra steps. *Crack!* Shot after shot flew out, sending countless fine particles that transformed the ground into a honeycomb pattern. Anderson rolled in time, avoiding most of the impact, but still was struck by several, leaving his side bloodied and torn. As Crane prepared to shoot the burly man wielding a double-barreled hunting gun to assist Anderson and Hude in escaping danger, he noticed that the man—just like the innkeeper—was suddenly wide-eyed, stunned, and filled with a sense of fresh alarm and fear, as though finally waking from a dream. Not quite. They weren't the actual attackers… Crane's rational mind halted his fingers from pressing the trigger, and his gaze swiftly swept across the restaurant. Seeing no sign of the spirit vision, he immediately pressed his left thumb twice against the first joint of his index finger, activating his observation of the "spirit threads." At that moment, the dining room guests—ladies and gentlemen—had already risen in panic from the shooting incident and began rushing toward the exits. As she passed by Anderson, who was rolling, a well-dressed lady with an attractive appearance suddenly stopped, opened the deep-colored glass bottle tightly clenched in her hands, and poured the liquid directly onto the strongest hunter. Sizzle! The areas touched by the liquid instantly darkened and underwent intense corrosion; Anderson shielded his face and leapt ahead, narrowly avoiding the attack. Immediately afterward, the composed and gentle lady, the gentleman holding a newspaper, the red-aproned waiter, and the five-year-old child with fruit on his hands all launched their own attacks simultaneously against Anderson Hude. Flour, lit matches, a fruit knife, hot coffee, and a high-alcohol beverage followed one after another. It seemed that everyone in the hotel restaurant had converged on a single objective: to kill Anderson Hude! Amidst this perilous situation requiring no extraordinary abilities, Anderson—already surrounded and struggling to escape—rolled, spun, leapt, kicked over tables, and even prematurely ignited objects, narrowly avoiding critical injuries without suffering severe trauma. At the same time, Caine noticed an anomaly: at the seat in the corner of the restaurant, concealed behind a decorative cabinet, dense, ethereal black "spirit lines" had spread out, yet there was absolutely no movement or reaction emanating from that spot. This stood out remarkably in the otherwise chaotic and panicked atmosphere of the hall! The actual orchestrator of this "random murder case" was seated there? From the bewilderment, confusion, and growing alarm displayed by the hotel owner, the waiters, and the guests after they attacked Anderson, it was clear they had not been turned into puppets—this indicated a different kind of manipulation… a form of magic, perhaps, the emotional seeds of the "Apostles of Desire," or an influence operating at the level of the mind? Klein suddenly had a flash of inspiration and stepped forward two paces, knocking over a customer whose mouth still held traces of cream and clearing a path for Anderson Hude. The strongest hunter immediately rolled out of the encirclement from this direction, sprinting back with Klein toward the second floor of the inn, leaning against the wall at the stair corner and gasping for breath. "My ability to provoke has reached this level, have I? Even ordinary citizens I don't know want to knock me out and take action? Gah..." As he spoke, Anderson strained his right rib injury, nearly gasping in pain. No, no, no. The truth is, people who are plagued by misfortune shouldn't even attempt to go hunting pirates... Earlier, when Kline abandoned his plan to draw closer to the target and instead tried to use the "spirit thread" to exert control, he had a possible explanation: it seemed that the pedestrians had been subtly planted with suggestions or subjected to psychological manipulation, which led them to suddenly attack Anderson in a well-organized manner. This didn't quite align with the extraordinary abilities of the "Desire Apostles," since the attacks of the affected individuals were highly targeted, precise, and showed clear signs of preparation. In fact, Kline had once heard a sequence-4 potion formula named "The Manipulator!" Furthermore, based on the account of the "psychologist" who had been released during the "Crawling Hunger," Kline had long suspected that there was a task or figure related to the "Psychological Alchemy Society" on the island of Toskata. Moreover, the mental suggestion, the manipulation at the spiritual and psychological level, and the characteristics of the "audience" approach align very well. Klein had long suspected that the "manipulators" likely belonged to the "audience"—to the "dragons." With this, the picture became clearer: The "Psychological Alchemy" indeed had a significant presence on the island of Toscanet, and had dispatched a sequence-4 half-god to oversee it. This half-god had subtly influenced several pirates, causing them to perform unconscious acts on his behalf. Last night, these pirates不幸 became patrons of Anderson Hood. Thus, this morning, the true investors arrived! Maintaining composure, Klein watched Anderson, speaking with a calm, detached tone: "It was likely one or more of the pirates behind the scenes, pulling strings with the hidden half-god on this island. Do you think something of that magnitude could have been accomplished by a mid-sequence extraordinary?" "Won't this be unfortunate..." Anderson's voice grew quieter, eventually turning into a murmured comment. "Indeed, those people I saw just now were all under control—innocent victims. Thank goodness I didn't fight back; otherwise, this would have turned into a major bloodbath, and I'd be on the wanted list. Then things would get complicated, and I'd have to become a pirate." Klein said nothing, straightened up, smoothed his coat, and prepared to leave. At that moment, Anderson surged forward, intercepting him at the stair entrance, and shouted: "I'm sorry! I was wrong! We can discuss anything!" Pausing for a moment, he repeated: "I'm sorry! I was wrong! We can discuss anything!" A slow, steady applause rang out on the first floor, and then a figure appeared at the stair entrance. With quiet footsteps, the figure gradually moved toward the corner, yet Klein instinctively shifted his gaze, as though unwilling to see who had arrived. Moreover, he realized he hadn't raised his arm at all, nor had he thought about aiming his gun—his resolve to resist seemed already undermined by unspoken suggestion. That’s quite terrifying… Well, right now it’s not face-to-face hypnosis, so I’m able to perceive what’s happening. But if it’s directly targeted, the consequences are unimaginable… I’m already being influenced, as the “Justice” lady put it—someone has quietly arrived at my consciousness island, through the vast sea of collective unconsciousness, and made certain adjustments? Klein suddenly feels a sense of clarity, and impulsively decides to leave and return to his room. Is this an unspoken directive from this half-god? Klein understands that the other wishes to speak privately with Anderson, so he doesn’t resist and simply walks out of the stairwell, heading straight to his own room. Less than five minutes later, Anderson knocks on his door, looking deeply somber. “Everything settled?” Klein asks casually. Anderson nods firmly: “Phew—yes. He asked me to do something for him, but the specifics, I can’t share with anyone.” “Do you remember what he looked like?” "Klein deliberately asked. Anderson thought carefully and then furrowed his brow: "I can't recall..." Indeed... for 1,600 pounds, you've gone to the trouble of provoking a half-god—how utterly unworthy! Klein sighed quietly and then said: "Can we leave tomorrow?" "Yes, that matter doesn't have to wait—we should first address the misfortunes." Anderson replied without hesitation. Klein said no more, pointing to the floor: "Shall we go for breakfast?" Anderson was momentarily surprised, then smiled warmly: "Of course! Nothing can interfere with breakfast and sleep!" They descended to the first floor and found the waiter quietly clearing up the broken items, while the owner and customers had completely forgotten what had just happened. … After breakfast, Anderson continued out, busy collecting fees and special charges and making preparations, while Caine remained in his hotel room, tending to the surplus spirituality from his promotion and testing the extraordinary abilities of the "Master of Secret Doubles" with small creatures. At 2:30 p.m., he arrived early at *Above the Mist*, to rehearse personally for the upcoming Tarot gathering, since Mr. The Fool needed the air to be very clear and the wind very light when he would gently tap Mr. The Hermit, Gauthier. Sitting in the position belonging to The Fool, Caine went through his three refined tapping sequences he had developed over the past few days, two of which required a subtle infusion of spatial energy and two that needed props. Thus, he had to firmly establish and thoroughly master the entire process, ensuring no awkwardness or hesitancy would surface at the crucial moment. After an indeterminate length of time, Caine exhaled, settling the matter. Then, he manifested the "World" without any physical objects, directly seeing the countless fine black lines spreading across the other's body. "The very objects manifested through the mysterious space above the gray mist possess a certain spirit—thus, they have the 'spiritual lines.' In the real world, inanimate things do not have such lines." With practiced ease,克莱恩 manipulated those black lines, quickly achieving full and complete mastery over the "World." Now, not only could he make the "World's" expressions more refined and its responses more lifelike, but he could also bring the spirit of the puppet's movements closer to natural, no longer lifeless. In addition, he now experienced the "World" directly—through vision, hearing, and other senses—just as a dual-player would. After completing all this,克莱恩 glanced at his gold-shell watch and sent a message to the small "Sun," instructing him to simply count his own heartbeat silently.