Hearing the middle-aged man's cry and seeing his contorted expression, Hai Ruoer's eyes, originally filled with anger and resentment, gradually froze, softening into a touch of bewilderment and confusion. Not only she, but also Member Mahert, Lady Liyan, and the man beside her, Dauin Tangtases, fell silent—briefly, no one spoke. Even Forst, who had been hiding behind the obstruction, lost his earlier enthusiasm and no longer radiated a strong sense of justice. After a few seconds, Mahert no longer looked at the attacker; he turned to his bodyguard and said, "You keep one here to guard the scene and the prisoner until the police arrive." Pausing for a moment, he then addressed his personal servant, "Notify the reporters from several newspapers to come and cover this incident." After initially addressing the situation, the member of parliament glanced around and noticed several passersby gathering to find out what had happened. He turned to Doane Thénardier, offered a polite apology, and said: "I'm sorry to have put you through such a dangerous experience—I never imagined things would escalate this far. We did indeed consider the practical circumstances of factory owners and coal mine owners, and introduced some support and transitional measures. Who would have thought…" While formulating plans was one thing, actual implementation was quite another. When air pollution control became an urgent priority and mounting pressure came from all sides, the emergence of a one-size-fits-all approach was entirely predictable. Cléen sighed, chuckled with a touch of self-deprecation: "Don't worry too much about my reaction. In fact, I've faced more dangerous situations in the past." "He seemed to be describing his experiences while doing business in the western region of the Southern Continent, but in reality, he was recalling the fertile land of Meigohs where the demonic deity's offspring was born, the terrifying meteor that descended from the sky, the determined Cynthia who wished to bear a child for General Emirius, and the monstrous beings—both angels and spiritual monks of the Rose School—that caused the mountain peaks outside Bayam to collapse. Compared to these, what just happened was merely like a single, fine raindrop falling from the sky—something so subtle that it hardly needed attention. Klein, considering the presence of the two bodyguards, the 'Magician' Miss, and Hiyouru, had not even intervened; he simply executed the routine, experienced evasions of a seasoned professional. His real concern was whether this incident might be the beginning of a broader 'downpour.' Mahert sighed and nodded, saying, 'I can clearly see that you've remained remarkably composed. I used to doubt the stories you told me, but now I truly believe them. Well, then, Doun—let's each go our separate ways. The rest will be handled by the police. If necessary, they'll come to your home to take statements Klein nodded to the Mahert family, saying, "Keep an eye on your safety moving forward." The议员 Mahert solemnly inclined his head and sighed once more, "The Beckland social season has just begun, and already this has happened... Make the most of this peace we have now." The Beckland social season is traditionally marked by the return of the upper-house nobles—seemingly only just beginning last weekend—and yet, already two incidents have occurred this week: the false charges against Baron Sindras, the attack on Mahert himself. As thoughts rushed through his mind, Klein made no停留, instead moving with a clear sense of apprehension toward his own carriage, accompanied by his slightly frightened personal servant, Richardstone. Once seated, gazing as the scenery slowly receded outside the window, Klein silently exhaled, half-closing his eyes. He couldn't yet determine whether extraordinary forces had been involved in this assault, since every step in the process was something ordinary people could accomplish, and the middle-aged man's reasoning was entirely credible—there was no need to fabricate it. He believed that in today's Beckland, there were surely many other former factory owners or unemployed employees who had experienced similar incidents. The only thing that troubled him was why the target of the attack had been Machet. Although this Member of Parliament was indeed a strong advocate of air pollution control, frequently delivering speeches on the subject and occasionally appearing in newspaper interviews, he was far from the most prominent figure during the legislative process. In comparison, members of the "Royal Commission on Air Pollution" would have been more likely to be chosen as targets for retaliation. He once again felt the vortex beneath Beckland’s calm surface growing stronger and more intense. Gathering his thoughts, Caine slightly raised his left hand and touched his coat pocket. There, he found a letter seemingly from Frank Lee, and a mushroom of an unknown variety. Caine longed to return home, ascend above the gray mist, and communicate with the "creeping hunger" using the new mushrooms, thereby reactivating the seal—given that a storm was already brewing, he felt it essential to restore his peak combat capabilities as soon as possible, and for that, the "creeping hunger" was indispensable. Yet, he still had two extraordinary guardians accompanying him, and recently, he had been obliged to avoid the gray mist as much as possible. It was truly the frustration of a wealthy man to have paid hundreds of pounds for two individuals who, in reality, required no protection at all… Caine sighed internally and lifted the newly prepared红茶 from Richardsons. He took a gentle sip, his facial muscles tightening momentarily before relaxing again. His gaze shifted downward, where he noticed the lemon slices in the红茶 had doubled in number. In a subtle glance, he checked Richard's expression beside him—somewhat dazed, as though still recovering from the shock of the recent attack. Always so timid, he thought internally, and then gently set the bone china teacup down on the table. What he was pushing was clearly something good... "No matter how beneficial an initiative appears, there will always be those who suffer losses. At such times, the relevant legislation or plan must be carefully considered, with provisions to compensate and support those affected. If your father has taken such measures, then the issue is not with him—on the contrary, it would indicate his coldness and harshness." The mouse replied casually. Haijiru paused for a few seconds, then said, "During dinner, I noticed a valuable item hidden in a cabinet inside the private dining room. However, when I later had the opportunity to open it, I found nothing." The mouse paused, then thoughtfully remarked, "Perhaps it is the bodyguard of Daut. Thonstad. He has recently been involved in a suicide case linked to Baron Sindeles, so it is quite normal to hire bodyguards for discreet protection." "Hmm... The security guards in the kitchen might also possess supernatural abilities, carrying magical items, which is why you've sensed them." Hae-heru nodded gently, accepting this explanation, and subconsciously murmured, "I wonder what kind of supernatural powers those guards might have..." Then, she glanced curiously at the gray mouse. "How do you know that Doane Tholos has gotten involved in a difficult case?" The mouse squeaked. "Right now, my current state is ideal for eavesdropping on conversations." As it spoke, it glanced toward the direction of 160 Berkland Street, its gaze flickering twice. Volsa scanned the room, searching for a way to break the seal. Finally, she spotted a complex symbol etched upon the ceiling: a fusion of "fate" and "concealment!" Finding an object bearing this symbol would unlock the seal of a hidden treasure. Suddenly, this insight struck her with clarity. She jolted awake, finding herself curled on the carpet of the room, wrapped in a thin silk blanket—she and Hugh had never dared sleep in the armchair, fearing that Dame D'Ornais would notice their absence. Gently rubbing her temple, Volsa sat up and saw Hugh leaning against the wall leading to the master bedroom, intently listening to the sounds around them. "I have a feeling there's something hidden here. I had a strange dream—about an extravagant treasure and intricate symbols," she said, frowning as she approached Hugh. As a "horoscope reader," she instinctively sensed that her dream was not ordinary. Forth thought Fleur's expression was serious, and she suppressed her doubts, pausing to reflect: "Perhaps there truly is something secret. I once heard a proverb from the world of mystery: 'When an extraordinary element is discovered in a certain place, there must inevitably be a second one.' " "We can't yet determine whether there's a steward with extraordinary powers, but Miss Hayouer is the first such element. Therefore, there should be a second one nearby—either in her vicinity or within this neighborhood." Fleur nodded gently, then smiled. "Still, this has nothing to do with us. By evening tomorrow, we'll receive our payment, conclude our bodyguard duties, and leave. The most pitiful one remains Daven Thantès—innocent, ordinary, yet compelled to endure both troublesome incidents and extraordinary elements." Turning to Thore, Fleur then playfully added: "Now, quickly say the prayer for his protection!" "I am a devotee of steam and machinery, so I can't do that." "After pausing to consider for two seconds, he drew the crimson moon on his chest and spoke with sincere devotion: 'May the goddess protect Mr. D'Artagnan.' Forthright had fully awakened from her drowsiness, reached out to cover her mouth, and yawned, saying, 'I'll walk around the house to check things over. You wait for ten minutes before going back to sleep.' 'Good,' said Tho, clearly more energetic than Forthright. Forthright immediately turned toward the door, pressed her hand against the wall, and was instantly transported down the corridor. As she was about to head up the stairs, she suddenly noticed a faint movement coming from the room where Richard's personal servant, D'Artagnan, was sleeping. Forthright's eyes subtly shifted, and with cautious attention, she moved closer, opening a small door in the wall and leaning to peer inside. There, she saw Richard dancing with a slightly frenzied, almost mystical grace. 'Magical dance?' she thought. 'This servant doesn't worship the goddess of Night—does he? He's secretly honoring the goddess of Death?' Forsyth frowned as Richardson completed the spiritual dance, quietly praying to the god of death for protection from all manner of dangers. When everything was done, Forsyth shook his head in quiet admiration, murmuring to himself, "Poor Monsieur Tangalès."