Based on Klein’s extensive experience watching detective series and animated detective shows, someone who covers their face with a scarf and conceals their physical traits with a coat usually has something to hide—likely a secret not to be disclosed. Especially now, when it’s not winter, the fierce sea air is far from cold. Nevertheless, this has nothing to do with me. Even if a murder occurs in a locked room, it’s the captain who’ll be suffering from a headache. He’ll just have to wait and perform a divination atop the gray mist to see whether this journey will unfold smoothly. Klein thought about it with a quiet concern, neither indifferent nor negligent. He then turned his gaze to the dish of Deci’s baked fish brought by the waiter. After dinner, he returned to his own cabin and conducted a divination atop the gray mist, concluding that the environment would remain stable and that everything would proceed smoothly. This allowed Klein to fall asleep easily without needing meditation, and he slept soundly until dawn. The whistle sounded, the passenger ship began to move from stillness, and slowly departed from the port of Halman. When the wharf was still faintly visible, Crane saw a figure suddenly materialize there. The figure wore a white shirt and a deep blue coat, with a high, straight nose, sunken eye sockets, pale blue eyes, and brown, slightly wavy hair. His features were sharp and defined, his chin slightly raised, giving off an air of superiority over everyone around. With a single glance, he quickly locked onto the passenger ship Crane was aboard. At that very moment, the sky suddenly darkened, as if becoming a great door leading into a black, ethereal realm. A deafening hurricane surged from the ocean floor, carrying vast amounts of blue light upward, while deep, vivid lightning flashed like cracks in the void—appearing and then vanishing as if healing itself. This completely obscured the view between the ship and the wharf, making them seem as though they existed in entirely separate worlds. Once again, the turbulent sea revealed its terrifying power. The ship could neither evade nor resist, and could only continue forward along the safer, less turbulent route of the storm. It's truly remarkable... this shouldn't be a coincidence... Standing behind the glass window of the cabin, Caine first quietly mused, then concluded that the sudden and violent transformation of the Storm Sea must have a non-natural cause. ——Although the Storm Sea's weather is known to change abruptly at any moment, a shift occurring precisely at a certain point still raises questions. "Was the gentleman at the dock tracking the suspicious passenger who boarded last night? And when that passenger's concealment became evident, did he simply alter the heavens, compelling the ship to depart against its will?" Caine recalled the earlier events, now forming a tentative hypothesis. If indeed that were the case, then the passenger who had been veiled in a scarf was likely a half-god—or carried an artifact of 'Level 1' sealing power! After all, with Caine's current abilities and possessions, unless he activated the Staff of the Sea God, he could not provoke such a dramatic change in the weather. Of course, he might also have another method—perhaps he could simply cast the Azk copper horn and see if it could stir up the entire Storm Sea into a frenzy. "Honestly, all I wanted was to simply travel to the Southern Continent like a normal wealthy man—yet every step of the way, I'm being pursued by beings of half-divine status... Oh, I've endured so much pressure that simply doesn't belong to my current stage." Kline chuckled to himself, ultimately deciding to trust the divination he'd performed last night. Amid the storm, the passenger ship drifted steadily through the relatively calm patches, navigating the apocalyptic scene with a steady, rocking motion. Most of the passengers appeared calm, as if already accustomed to this state, while only a few first-time travelers clutched at anything they could find, trembling in fear. Time passed, and the wind and lightning gradually subsided, the sky slowly brightening. At that moment, Kline, standing on the deck, felt a sudden spark of inspiration and instinctively turned his head toward the location of the port of Halman. Above the undulating deep blue sea, beneath the scattered white clouds, a bright white flame emerged from afar and sped toward them, approaching rapidly. The glow grew brighter and clearer, eventually taking on a complete form—a towering flaming lance! The flaming lance sliced through the sky and landed at the forward section of the passenger ship’s deck, yet it failed to ignite anything, merely piercing through half a plank before dispersing and reassembling into a human figure. This figure had a high nose, deep-set eyes, and blue eyes—exactly the man who had suddenly appeared at the wharf earlier! He appeared mid-to-late middle-aged, slowly surveying the scene as he moved through the passengers, whose eyes were wide open and mouths agape, before entering the cabin. Dawn Tanteau, equally stunned, exhaled silently, relieved that the man wasn’t actually coming to find him. The way they just stepped on stage was absolutely stunning—no wonder they're half-gods... The only issue now is that we hope they don't start fighting. Even if conflict is unavoidable, we'd prefer it if they did so off to the neighboring sea, otherwise, this ship might not survive... I myself can easily "teleport" away without much trouble, but with so many passengers, how many can I possibly save? Kline habitually drew a crimson moon on his chest, praying for the goddess's protection. Just as he formed this thought, he saw a figure fly out of the cabin and crash onto the deck—exactly the suspicious passenger who had been covering his face with a scarf earlier. Now, the man had revealed half his face, with a reddened nose, thick beard, and droplets of saliva still clinging to his lips. His eyes, nearly triangular in shape, were filled with fear, and he held his hands on the deck, constantly pushing himself backward. "Who instructed you to carry that item and dress like this?" At the doorway of the cabin, the middle-aged man with high nose and blue eyes who had just arrived stepped out, speaking in a steady, measured tone in the Intis language. The suspicious passenger shook his head wildly, "No, I don't know! He was dressed exactly like him—gave me one hundred pounds, told me to take this ship to the Southern Continent and then return on my own!" The man remained silent, his gaze sharp and penetrating, as though able to see right through a person's soul. This caused the sweat on the suspicious passenger's forehead to pour forth in abundance, his body trembling violently, and he stammered again and again, offering explanations—yet the details remained unchanged. The man then turned his gaze away, and suddenly, flames of brilliant white surged up from his body. Next, he transformed into a massive flaming spear, which shot toward the area of Halman Port. The spear grew steadily farther away, and within no time at all, only a faint glow remained. Throughout the entire process, except at the very beginning, the half-god never glanced once at the other passengers, as though they were entirely absent. "It's a simple yet clever ruse—making people believe they've boarded the ship, manipulating celestial phenomena in such a way as to create evidence that they're actually aboard, while in truth, the person has remained at port, waiting until the pursuers have gone on, then taking a new course." Kline suddenly had a clear realization. This made him question whether the one being pursued might have once been a schemer, a magician, or some other extraordinary being skilled in deception. As for the one just now—transforming into flames, wielding a blazing white lance, displaying an aloof and even unpleasant demeanor, and speaking in the Thysian language—Kline believed he was likely a half-deity of the Hunter Path, possibly even an Iron-Courage Knight. He wondered why they had come into conflict. Kline shook his head and returned to his cabin. On the deck, the passengers finally regained their composure and began to whisper among themselves about what they had just witnessed—the extraordinary phenomenon of a person transforming into flame, and a flame reshaping itself into a human being! Amidst the bustling activity, the ship continued along its safe course, encountering no further incidents, and reached another port in the evening. Cain, as usual, remained on board, avoiding any unforeseen occurrences. He produced his gold-case pocket watch, opened it, and checked the time to determine when to head to the restaurant. "Wait another twenty minutes," he murmured silently, lifting his head to gaze out the window. At that moment, many passengers who had booked to disembark at the current port were carrying their suitcases and ascending the gangway toward the dock. As he scanned the scene, his eyes suddenly settled on a figure. The figure wore a black soft hat, with a subtle golden hue at the temples, a high, straight nose, tightly pressed lips, and a deeply sculpted profile—classically elegant, with not a single wrinkle. He didn't bring any luggage and quickly followed the crowd onto the pier, vanishing around the corner of the street. Klein simply watched, motionless, as though his body no longer belonged to him. He only felt his blood growing colder, and a name surged into his mind: Inz. Zangewell! ...... One by one, the gas lamps on the pier came to life, their lights gently matching the scattered glimmers from the ship's windows. In the first-class cabin of Daven. Thénardier, it remained dark and utterly silent. Klein had settled into his seat, expression neutral, as a cascade of thoughts surged through his mind: "This is the first time since the great smog event in Beckland that we've encountered traces of Ings. Zangwei... The half-god who came before had clearly been pursuing Ings. Zangwei all along. His scheme runs deeper than I anticipated—he arranged for others to be disguised as him, and presented them with items not merely to divert attention, but to create a cognitive blind spot, so that people would unconsciously rule out this very ship as a viable option. He has been here from the very beginning. The striking celestial phenomena—those coincidences—must have been orchestrated by Ings. Zangwei using the '0–08' sequence. Yet, why is he being pursued by a half-god of the In'tis, a 'hunter'? What is he truly planning?" As these thoughts raced through him, Klein suddenly produced his adventurer's flute and blew a soft note against his lips. In silence and without a word, the messenger girl Renette Tinekore, carrying four golden-haired, red-eyed heads, appeared before him. Cain opened his mouth, then closed it again, took out paper and pen, and quickly wrote: "Mr. D'Artagnan has located Ins. Zangewell on the island in the stormy sea." He folded the letter and handed it to the messenger girl along with a gold coin: "Deliver it to the letterbox at 7 Prestwick Street, North Beckland." The four heads she held simultaneously turned, and all eight eyes focused on Cain. She said nothing; she simply bit down on the letter and the gold coin.