William Sexs... a steward of a manor... Caine repeated the answer in his mind, then steered the conversation toward the banner and the War of the White Roses. After a few casual exchanges, he politely excused himself, joining the butler Walter and the personal servant Richardstone, and walking toward other display cases to continue his tour, as though their encounter had been nothing more than a mere, incidental meeting. Near noon, as Caine gazed out at the bicycles passing by outside the luxury four-horse carriage, he suddenly asked, "Walter, it seems you know William Sexs?" Walter nodded seriously. "I've seen him while working at the Viscount Conner's household. He served a royal member of the family, the former Earl of Lestrange, Prince Edessa." He offered no concealment, providing a full account of William Sexs' background. Had he once served Prince Edessa? After the Prince died from the great smog crisis in Bekland, it turned out he was doing quite well—perhaps serving as house steward at some estate... Maybe he knew certain secrets? Klein nodded slightly, without pressing further, while thinking to himself whether he should find an opportunity to investigate William Sikes. If William Sikes knew anything at all, the royal faction wouldn't have left him untouched, or else he'd have been part of that faction—either way, investigating him would have been quite risky, making it impossible to assign the "Magician" Miss Emlyn White or Miss Houghton to the task... Miss Sharon was certainly capable, but this likely would disrupt the stability of her current life. The best solution would be to enlist the daring thief, Black Emperor, yet the problem lay in the fact that, prior to securing the Antigonus family's notes, I hoped my investigation into the Beckland smog crisis would remain peripheral, disturbing no one and bringing about no unforeseen changes. Sir Kline calmly observed the street scene outside, his mind brimming with various thoughts. In the end, he decided to endure temporarily, unwilling to jeopardize the most crucial matter at hand. After lunch and a nap, Sir Kline began receiving instruction in literary appreciation, continuing until late in the afternoon. After sending away the family tutor, he was heading toward the second-floor dining room when he suddenly heard the doorbell being pulled. Richard, the butler, stepped forward a few paces and opened the door. Standing outside were two police officers in black-and-white check uniforms; from their shoulder epaulettes, one was a senior inspector and the other a chief inspector. "Officer, is there anything we can assist with?" Richard asked on behalf of his employer. The senior inspector was a slim, tall man with black hair concealed beneath his hat, only his hairline showing a hint of gray. He glanced around the room and smiled gently. "I'm here to speak with Mr. Doane Thénardier. There's a matter involving him and his housekeeper." "What kind of matter?" said Crane, stepping toward the door. "I am Mr. Doane Thénardier." After introducing himself, he politely asked, "Officers, may I know how you'd like to be addressed?" "If things are a bit complicated and take a longer time, why not come to my lounge and chat over tea?" The other officer, indeed the chief, was a very spirited woman, clearly showing interest, glancing toward the senior inspector beside her, awaiting her superior's decision. ——Due to the connection with the Night Goddess' Church, there are quite a few female officers within the Roon police system; however, influenced by other beliefs, societal trends, and various factors, they still face certain discrimination in promotions and job assignments, with most serving primarily in administrative roles and encountering an invisible ceiling for advancement. The senior inspector smiled and said, "We don't need tea, but we'll have to speak with your household staff." Pausing briefly, he finally got to the point: "Mr. Daven Thomsen, do you know William Sikes?" "I met him this morning at the Royal Museum." Klein vaguely felt that things had taken an unexpected turn and asked proactively, "What happened to him?" The senior inspector smoothed out a smile and replied, "He died at a hotel near the Royal Museum." "Dead?" Klein couldn't conceal his astonishment and surprise. "I just met him—how could he have died so soon? Was he already under surveillance? The senior inspector nodded seriously, "Yes. The cause of death is complex, and murder cannot be ruled out." "His companion?" Klein frowned, "When I last saw him, he had a companion." "That lady was his mistress. She left the hotel when William Sexes was still alive—this can be confirmed by the hotel's staff, as they later sent wine to his room." The inspector briefly outlined the situation. "After leaving the Royal Museum, where did you go?" "I came straight back here, had lunch, slept, and attended my classes—my servant, my neighbor, and my literary critic can all attest to that," Caine replied calmly. He then turned to Richardson and said, "Go and fetch Walter." Soon after, the butler Walter descended from the second floor, answering the same questions. With Dowson Thénardier's consent, the two officers also questioned Richardson and the other servants, finding no issues. They did not linger, politely excused themselves, and proceeded to visit the neighboring households. Caine was not affected by the incident in his appetite and ascended to the second floor for dinner. The hours passed swiftly in the quiet enjoyment of reading and newspapers. As he prepared for bed, Caine gazed out the window at the night scene, waiting for his personal servant, Richardson, to clear the fruit from the room. Suddenly, without turning, he asked, "What did Walter do in the afternoon?" "Always busy with various matters, never leaving," Richard said softly. Klein nodded gently, not pressing further, slightly doubting whether he had imagined it. Inhaling slowly, he walked to the bed and lay down. Midnight found Klein suddenly awakened by a surge of spiritual awareness. He raised one eyebrow slightly, rose from the bed, and walked to the window, drawing the curtain open a narrow slit. Under the dim moonlight, against the deep night, a figure moved carefully along the garden path and reached the outer wall, then stepped out. Broad-shouldered, with dark, lustrous hair and serious brown eyes—he was Walter, the butler. "Agile, fluid in movement—either a person with extensive training or someone of exceptional talent at a lower sequence," Klein observed, forming an initial assessment in his mind. He saw Walter moving along the shadows of the street, all the way to the manhole where Hae-her had entered earlier, lifting the cover and descending, then carefully restoring it. Why were everyone so proficient at descending into the sewers? The butler must have done it during the previous night, otherwise my spiritual senses would have signaled it—after all, it was a departure from my "domain." This indicated that he had frequently performed such actions elsewhere, prior to becoming my butler. Klein gave a subtle smile, returned to the bed, and retrieved a metal cigarette box from beneath the pillow. He needed to manipulate the spirit, Senior, to follow the butler and observe what he was doing. He hoped the distance wouldn't exceed one hundred meters; otherwise, he'd have to descend as well... Klein murmured these thoughts silently, then returned to behind the curtain folds. His secret companion, Senior, instantly used the mysterious connection between the mirrors, leapt onto the gas lamp beside the manhole entrance, and then passed through the cover, moving silently behind. Klein noticed that Walter walked about twenty meters before turning into a quieter, more somber corridor, where the walls and floor were covered with moss and various dirty accumulations. Suddenly, the butler paused and addressed someone, saying: "Why are you so impetuous? Why not wait for a better opportunity?" A slightly weak, husky female voice quickly responded to Walter's question: "This is the very best opportunity. Once he returns to the manor, I have no idea how long it will be before he comes out again." "But why have you sustained such serious injuries?" Walter asked, showing some concern. The female voice chuckled: "William Sikes, I believe, is stronger than you or me—perhaps that is precisely why he has maintained such a hidden identity. Regardless, I have finally obtained clues from him. After all this time, I finally have a real chance to get closer to the truth." "You have no need to be so urgent," Walter said, after a brief pause. A weak female voice chuckled softly, saying, "I have already sold my soul to the邪神. Now, the only meaning left in my life is revenge." Walter, rarely, took a deep breath and said, "You stay here. I'll prepare food for you until you recover. If anything happens, use the old method to reach me." The weak female voice remained silent for a long time, then said, "When he was alive, he had many subordinates who claimed loyalty to him. After his death, however, only a few remembered him and were willing to risk everything for him. You are the most unexpected." "He was the first noble to treat me so well. He is the one person I truly wish to serve," Walter replied in a low tone. With the secret conversations he had just heard, Klein now had a vague sense of what had really happened: After Prince Edsak's death, a small group of loyal supporters had secretly investigated the truth behind his supposed suicide, and Walter was one of them. However, his primary responsibilities were gathering public intelligence and providing aid through his own position—this should be the additional development that the "Mirror," Arod, had mentioned. Immediately, Klein caused the "Specter" Senior to vanish and move silently into the quiet, secluded passage. There, he saw Walter standing slightly off to the side, speaking with someone, while half-obscured by him, a woman in a black dress sat against the wall, her face pale. After listening to Walter's words, the woman let out a soft laugh and looked toward the exit: "You should leave now, and be careful not to be noticed." Her turn allowed Celine to see her clearly—round-faced, with long, slender eyes, a gentle and sweet demeanor, subtly charming. An exceptionally outstanding and captivating young woman, indeed—Celine's familiar: Trish Chik!