Regarding the case of Carlon's suicide, the one most eager to learn about it was Audrey, the embodiment of justice. However, Audrey had already noticed that the "magician," Fothergill, showed a certain curiosity about the matter, so she said nothing and remained seated, patiently waiting for the bestselling novelist to speak. In just a few seconds, the "magician" Fothergill glanced at the edge of the table before Mr. Germán Sparrow and carefully remarked, "What is the truth?" Klein had already rehearsed in his mind exactly how to describe it, and without hesitation, he delivered it to the dummy "World," saying, "The person behind the scenes is most likely the royal advisor, Hewin Lambis. He probably holds another identity as well—member of the Council of Psychological Alchemy." As soon as she heard the first half of the sentence, a picture of a kind and dignified elder naturally came to mind in Audrey’s mind—a gentleman from a noble family, graduated from the University of Perth, possessing profound knowledge and outstanding insight, who had served as a royal advisor for over ten years and was widely recognized as a scholar, a good man, and a gentleman. Audrey had previously suspected that the royal court might have subtly influenced the Carlon suicide case, but never imagined that the actual orchestrator would be the gentle, compassionate, and warm-hearted Herwin Lambis! When the revelation came that Herwin Lambis also held another identity—namely, a member of the Psychological Alchemy Council—Audrey could hardly contain her astonishment and disbelief: Was Herwin Lambis truly extraordinary? A member of the Psychological Alchemy Council? That is to say, he might be a being half-god, half-human... I've seen him many times, yet never once did I think he was connected to the mystical world; I always regarded him as a broad-minded scholar, a purely intellectual one... And if the World's gentleman's investigation hasn't been misinterpreted, I truly find it hard to imagine that Herwin Lambis, known for his eagerness to help others, would so coldly disregard a life—allowing a child to lose his father, a wife to lose her husband, parents to lose their son—so deliberately and unemotionally... He is always so well-mannered, so full of compassion... Hmm, politics is far more corrupt than I imagined, and the royal family too... To be honest, I've never met a member of the Psychological Alchemy Council, never interacted with their upper echelons—yet, surprisingly, this secretive organization is not that different from the Aurora Society or the Spiritualist Brotherhood in essence... We at the Tarot Circle are still better off—"The Fool" consistently hinders or undermines the plans of the evil deities... "Justice" Audrey's thoughts are boiling over, while "The Hangman" Aljere keenly senses The nobility, the royal family, the Church of the Storm, the Church of the Night, the Church of Steam, the rising wealthy class, the struggling commoners clinging to the edge of survival, and the very poorest, living in wretched conditions—how clearly evident the era's transformation has become! I had simply failed to grasp this fully until now, relying only on Zilings' words and the "evidence" he presented, believing that a new age was dawning—one in which old gods were fading and new ones rising, with history's tide flowing steadily and irrevocably. In Alje's silent breath, he seemed to see the towering Gothic clock tower, the bell of Order suspended above it. Yet around this renowned landmark, the air took on form, the light dimmed, as though waves of storm were gathering. Suddenly, Alje had another thought: Perhaps the new gods emerging are not entirely new—perhaps some ancient deities, returning from even more distant times, are making their reappearance. With an instinctive glance toward the head of the bronze long table, he quickly withdrew his gaze, his heart stirred and restless. At this moment, he unexpectedly felt that his previous ambitions had been rather modest—merely aiming to become the Archbishop of the Storm Church, a saint with influence across the entire world, capable of quietly shaping significant events. With the old gods fading and the new ones rising, and with the "Fool" returning to his throne in the celestial realm, why couldn't he consider becoming an angel instead? Only at this level could there be a transformation of his very life form, enabling him to live for the long term, rise above the other spirits, lead a large organization, and wield power on a world scale! One thought after another surged through him, and the "Hangman" Aljer felt a subtle tremor, his inner spirit overflowing with excitement. As for "The Hermit" Galadrya, she recalled the recent movements of "The Mystic Queen" over the past two months, sensing that the queen had spent a significant portion of her time in Beckett. Was something about to unfold in Beckett? At this moment, I’d like to try asking the queen what her response might be… Gardelie pushed her heavy glasses up on her nose, glanced at the “Justice” lady and the other members of Beckland. The magician, Fols, knew certain details of the Caron suicide case—she understood that the victim had acted entirely independently throughout, never under control—and she knew that the witnesses firmly believed the entire incident was caused by D’Artagnan. This contrast between the facts and the testimony of the psychological alchemist member of the council stirred in her a deep sense of fear. What if, one day, she discovered that her own thoughts and preferences were merely implanted by others? How different would that be from being a mere puppet? The "audience" path at the higher ranks is absolutely terrifying... But it's excellent material for a novel. The field of psychology itself is already full of hypnosis. My next book will tell the story of a neurotic female protagonist who falls in love with a gentleman and uses hypnosis to make him fall in love with her—only to discover at the end that the gentleman is actually a master of hypnosis. Fores took a deep breath, then closed her mouth again, not asking any further questions about Hewin Lambis, since she didn't know him at all. By sharing the details of Hewin Lambis, Kline had primarily aimed to alert Miss Justice to be cautious and vigilant about this psychological alchemy council member. Now that his purpose had been fulfilled, he shifted to say: "Also, keep an eye on Cunus Colg. He is the deputy director of MI9, holding the rank of major general, though officially only at sequence 5. In reality, he is a near-divine figure on the 'Black Emperor' path, possessing strong intuition and a keen sensitivity to others' attention." "Quinás. Colg..." Audrey repeated the name in her mind, realizing she had no clear impression of the man. Either her social circles had little overlap with his, so that whenever they crossed paths, she would merely offer a nod without asking who he was, or he was exceptionally low-key, rarely attending such gatherings. She would certainly ask Cons, who was from MI9—he would surely know about his superior. Audrey wasn't surprised that Quinás claimed only a Level 5 rank, when in reality he was already half-divine; in her experience, such cases were fairly common among intelligence personnel. While she had heard of Quinás Colg—MI9's senior officer—both "The Hangover" Algé and "The Hermit" Gardeleia had only a general awareness of him, lacking deeper familiarity. At this moment, they were busy updating their mental files, reminding themselves to remain especially vigilant whenever they encountered anything related to him in the future. Mr. World had nothing more to share, so Derek of the Sun took the initiative to speak without waiting for Mr. The Turned to ask: "I've just made a new friend." He paused before delving into the details: "His patrol area includes the former Chief's mausoleum. He told me that the 'Council of Six' hasn't yet opened the gateway to the underground, though dense, strange plants have grown through the stone cracks on the outer walls—resembling human hair in appearance." The Council of Six includes three half-gods. Even if some of them are currently exploring outside the Silver City, the remaining three are likely maintaining powerful seals or tending to spirits of malice, each possessing near-half-god strength. After working together for so many days, they still haven't managed to open the former Chief's mausoleum—this is no small matter. And what exactly caused the sudden growth of plants that look like human hair? Klein found himself filled with one after another of questions, waiting for Mr. The Hangman to inquire of the young Sun. He knew the latter would certainly ask. After listening quietly, The Hangman Aljere slightly furrowed his brows, then relaxed them, and carefully began: "Beyond these, is there anything else out of the ordinary?" "Is it not the Elder Lovie, the 'Shepherd,' who is in charge of opening the tomb?" "It's not just her," answered Drik the Sun seriously. "The Chief is also there, along with two other Elders. Otherwise, everything seems normal." Aljere nodded. "Very good. Maintain your current state, establish connections with more people, and keep a close watch on the changes in the tomb." Drik, receiving praise, promptly nodded in agreement. They exchanged a few more topics, and the gathering naturally transitioned into a learning session. "The Magician" Folsom had intended to ask about the use of the Pharaoh's mummy, but upon glancing at "The World" Germán Sparo, he closed his mouth again. After the gathering, returning to the real world, Klein turned on the tap, washed his face and hands, and patiently waited for nightfall. Then, he would board a military airship to head to Desee Bay. ………… Southern Continent, Berens Port. Since the "Golden Dream" was navigating south of the Mist Sea, Danyz reached this port at the northernmost end of Xibran in just a few days. Dressed in a dark cloak, carrying a suitcase, wearing the "Sun Brooch" on the inside of his garments, and clutching a dark iron-gloved fist, he was sweating profusely as he walked along the dock road toward the outside, feeling as though he had been fully equipped and stronger than ever before. After stepping off the dock, Daniz glanced around and held out his hand to stop a carriage. The driver looked at him and spewed out a continuous stream of words: "%#@&*...(...)...” What was he saying? Daniz stared at the man, puzzled, and after several seconds, remembered something: He simply didn’t understand the local Datan language! Previously, when he had come to Xibayang, he had been able to rely on the language expert, the captain, as his guide, so he had never worried about understanding the conversation.