Mrs. Willis glanced at the countenance of Daven Tancé and smiled without the slightest hesitation: "Your past, your experiences in the Dese Gulf and the Southern Continent—more vivid and compelling than any novel I've ever read. One would truly want to live such a life." Of course, this is a story adapted from real events, thanks to Anderson Hude, a hunter who never seems to stay in one place... While克莱恩 cast a glance toward the cream cake and chuckled softly, he added, "I've only shared the interesting parts—there are many things I'd rather not remember." With that simple remark, he began to enjoy his dessert. Yet, upon hearing these words, the ladies present, including Mrs. Willis, unexpectedly recalled the title of a bestseller: *A Man with a Story*. In their eyes, Daven Tancé was precisely that—on the surface, calm and serene like a still lake, yet beneath, full of hidden surprises and unspoken sorrows. At 9:40, the dinner concluded. A group of gentlemen and ladies took their leave to head to the card room for two hours of Texas hold'em, while a few men made their way to the drawing room, intending to chat casually—though the ladies were welcome to join, as the room was often filled with smokers and inevitably involved some more colorful topics. Without the ladies joining, they either descended to the first floor, gathering around the piano to listen to the performer playing and softly singing, or formed small groups of two or three to play games and chat. He was a tall, robust man with a rosy complexion, appearing to be in his sixties. His hair, though still fairly thick, was entirely white, and his facial features were very typical of an ordinary person from Ruin—unremarkable and plain. "Yes, when the ladies are present, one must attend to appearances and consider their comfort. I've actually wanted to kiss it just an hour ago," said Mahert, the father of Hayel, as he produced a magnificent silver metal box from his coat and carefully extracted a cigarette from within. The other men who had entered the sitting room did the same, seemingly conjuring tobacco pipes or cigarettes with ease. As the flames flickered, plumes of smoke rose, giving the room a lingering sense of yesterday's haze. After closing his eyes and savoring the moment for a few seconds, Portland Monnet turned his head toward the guests by the window and asked, "Dawn, don't you smoke at all?" To be frank, he was almost choking now, thank goodness he had wisely chosen a spot by the window earlier. These heavy smokers... Klein bent his right index finger and rubbed it against his nostrils. He'd really liked to use the extraordinary ability of a magician—to create invisible, intangible air tubes extending outward and drawing in fresh air, thus escaping the secondhand smoke—but considering that among the gentlemen present there might be hidden extraordinary ones, he had rationally set that idea aside. "I heard from Bishop Elektra," Portland Monmote chuckled, "that your illness isn't entirely without reason—you're missing a wife!" The professor himself is a devotee of the God of Steam and Machinery, yet his wife follows the Goddess of Night, so they've settled on Berkland Street near St. Samuel's Church, where various bishops frequently visit and exchange visits. Is this a jest about my illness still being tied to women? It's hard to believe that Bishop Electra is actually a man who enjoys spreading rumors... All thanks to "the Magic Mirror," Arordes! Klein muttered under his breath, shaking his head and smiling, "I deeply respect marriage. If there's no suitable match, I'd rather remain single." At that moment, Mr. Willis, a senior municipal employee of Beckland, exhaled a ring of smoke and said, "I actually admire Don's current single status—it means I can pursue any kind of woman." He deliberately emphasized the word "any kind," prompting a series of warm, suggestive chuckles from the guests in the sitting room. Has it become well-known throughout the neighborhood that Don Tancredi is open to and enthusiastic about all kinds of attractive women? Klein kept his right hand steady, not unconsciously rubbing his temple. He felt a subtle shift in his own image—a newly arrived, well-dressed, refined, and well-spoken wealthy man—now subtly altered. He first suspected it was the outspoken Bishop Elektra who had said it, then realized it might have been his steward, Walter, who had actively encouraged the servants to spread the word. After all, a man without any flaws, exceptionally charming, is often unconsciously excluded by other men in his circle; but once he has a few imperfections and becomes a subject of gentle teasing, he begins to feel more approachable. Regarding this slightly colored teasing, Caine remained calm and composed, deliberately offering a wry smile: "That's why I find it so difficult to make a decision—still single after all this time." "Haha," Portland Monmote and others laughed heartily at once. Then, the Member of Parliament, Mahert, said: "What you need is the ability to make decisions—solid marriage and a strong family foundation—these are immensely beneficial for a man." He stopped the light teasing and offered a serious, earnest piece of advice. It seems no matter which world one lives in, the fate of being pressured into marriage is unavoidable... Caine nodded gently, casually glancing out the window, enjoying the evening view of the Portland-Montaigne gardens. At that moment, he spotted a figure—Heilur Machet, dressed in a deep green gown, walking alone along a path into the deeper parts of the garden, pausing occasionally to glance around, as if searching for something. Didn't she just play the piano a moment ago? How did she suddenly come out here? When Caine turned his gaze away, Heilur's silhouette had already been obscured by a cluster of flowering bushes. It is not at all improper for guests to leave the hall and enter the garden during dinner or ball events—strolling under the moonlight, breathing in the fragrant evening air is a refined custom. Yet such a gesture often implies a private meeting. With whom is Heilur meeting? No. Unlike today’s guests, none of them truly met her eye—though the shock she’d endured in the underground corridors had softened her once-aloof demeanor, making her occasionally seem subdued, there was still an undercurrent of superiority, as if she didn’t quite regard ordinary people. What about the negative effects of handling magical objects? That didn’t make sense. A quiet room or even the restroom would have been more discreet than going to the garden, and during her family’s ball, she’d gone to the third floor, not the garden. Kline eliminated all the implausible possibilities and began to form a hypothesis: from the way Hayouer seemed to sense or search for something, it appeared she had detected an anomaly and was preparing to investigate it closely. That meant there was something supernatural going on at Professor Portland Monmote’s home. If true, then either the professor himself or one of his family members was no ordinary person. The bishops of Saint Samuel’s Church frequently visited, yet none of them had noticed anything unusual. Well, the "thieves" certainly have a unique sensitivity and observational acumen in certain aspects... Klein had no intention of getting involved in the external affairs, because issues detectable by Hairel wouldn't be too serious, and given the proximity to the Saint Samuel Church, any hidden matters would likely be handled with restraint—no one would want to make a big fuss. At this moment, the Member of Parliament, Mahert, having recovered from the previous rather lowbrow joke, turned to Portland Monment and asked, "Have you heard that you're leaving the University of Beckett?" Professor Portland Monment puffed on his pipe and replied, "Indeed, the Higher Education Commission has invited me to become the president of the newly established Beckett Technical University. Hmm, although much of my wealth stems from the alloys, my true expertise lies in mechanical engineering." "They promised to establish better laboratories there and provide more funding. Honestly, by this age, greater autonomy and more support have become even more important." Mr. Willis nodded in agreement, smiling. "And the University of Beckett will now have an open full professorship—finally, those senior associate professors who've waited for decades will have a real chance." In the Roon higher education system, a full professor is not merely a title but also a position, equivalent to a department head—there can only be one. The University of Beckett Technology...克莱恩 listened with a quiet smile, refraining from commenting on topics he wasn't familiar with. — She could directly select the sealed box containing the precious items, without any additional assistance, though she couldn’t determine exactly what it was—only that it was clearly more valuable than the others. Much like Mr. D’Aune Thénardier, who surely carried something of great value… Hayour gave a slight upward curve to her lips and directed her attention toward the soil ahead, which appeared a bit loose and yielding. She sensed a gathering of spiritual energies beneath, creating an attraction for insects and spectral beings. Not human—some materials that had once held spirit, meant to be discarded separately—had instead been buried together, resulting in unintended transformations. Hayour’s eyes darkened slightly, interpreting the subtle shifts in the soil’s spiritual essence without hesitation. She slightly raised her chin and glanced back at the small cottage, concluding that at least one supernatural being resided within the Portland-Montaigne household. And if we don't address this issue in the garden's corner, within a few days, this place and several nearby houses will start having ghostly occurrences! Hairei withdraws her gaze, extends her left hand, and gently closes her fingers over the soil ahead, then subtly twists her wrist. The gathered spirit suddenly vanishes, as though stolen by someone. PS: Double the period for monthly passes! PS: Regarding the physical books, the publisher has already discussed this with me. They're aware of everyone's feedback. Starting from the third volume, a new editorial assistant will be assigned, as the second volume requires a handover. All revisions needed are highlighted in the electronic version, which I will review and confirm.