Emlin glanced at Ian, lifted his finger to pinch his nose, and chuckled. "Well, you're clearly not catching it. Let me rephrase more simply: I need intelligence on outsiders from the Southern Continent—especially from the Star高原 and the Pas River Valley." "Specifically, what kind of intelligence? There are quite a few native Southern Continent people in Bekland, and those with the proper lineage are quite common." Ian didn't react with indignation at being dismissed; instead, he calmly posed his own question. Emlin smiled. "I'm referring to the more unusual ones—the ones who are secretive, watchful, and behave oddly. You should understand what I mean." "I'm certain there are many such people from the plateau and the valley. In Bekland, they either serve as servants or laborers, or they become thieves and join underground gangs—those latter two groups certainly meet the criteria of being unusual, secretive, and mysterious." Ian honestly pointed out that Emlin's request was unrealistic. Emlyn, however, was well-prepared, offering a barely noticeable smile and giving a slight nod. "Then, provide me with all the relevant intelligence—myself to filter it. As for the initial engagement, I'll pay you fifty pounds as a basic fee for the preliminary investigation. Subsequently, the payment will be based on the number of specific, valuable pieces of intelligence gathered—twenty pounds per valuable item." "Who decides whether something is valuable?" Ian paused for a few seconds before asking. To him, receiving fifty pounds upfront meant the engagement was already secured. That amount would be sufficient to hire a dozen people to conduct a full investigation across the eastern districts to the Jowood area for a full fortnight. He didn't particularly care about the profit he made from the fifty pounds, as many people depended on him for livelihood and needed regular, paid assignments—otherwise, he simply wouldn't stay informed. Emlyn studied Ian for a moment, then exhaled, "Of course—it's me who decides. You should be well aware of my reputation." "Moriarty the Detective never mentioned this to me..." Ian murmured, sighing. "Well, our last collaboration was fairly pleasant. I'll trust you this time." Emlin nodded in satisfaction, pulled out his wallet, and counted the bills until the total reached fifty pounds. As he did so, he found himself hesitating—his savings had dwindled down to just four hundred and seven pounds. Now it was three hundred and fifty-seven. He shifted his gaze from the bills, placed the cash into Ian's hands, and then moved on without further delay. He put on his hat, stepped out of the billiard room, and left the "Brave Ones" pub. On the street, Emlin loosened his fingers from his nose, looked up at the blazing clouds, and his expression grew steadily serious. He spoke quietly to himself: "This time, the 'ghost' isn't here... where has it gone?" "Hmm, Ian acted as if he'd never heard of the Rose School, but his accelerated heartbeat betrayed him... And yet, he didn't ask whether Sherlock Moriarty had returned to Beckett at all—didn't seem at all concerned. Hadn't Sherlock already returned and met with him?" Heath Dole nodded. "Three days after you left, a stranger visited Charlevoix, staying for about a minute. I didn't approach, afraid of being noticed. As you instructed, I had my men follow the stranger, but they were eventually lost." "What did the stranger look like?" Gauthier asked, giving a slight nod. Under Hiss Dore's gaze, there was a slight hesitation, as he inclined his body slightly and pointed to the ground, saying, "Something like this." At that moment, a vivid picture had taken shape—a man with a beard of two well-defined mustaches, whose facial features were reminiscent of the people from the River Vale region. His most distinctive trait was the three ear studs set in each of his ears. "Made of gold, slender in build, with little body fat, yet very healthy," Hiss Dore added. "Has he been behaving normally lately?" Cadrya asked, her brow furrowed. In her view, normality itself was the most extraordinary thing of all—especially since it concerned members of the rose order, who believed in the primordial moon. Hiss Dole nodded firmly. "Yes." Cadrya glanced toward the main entrance of the house, then paused before speaking. "I had originally planned to use my extraordinary abilities to enter stealthily, swiftly take control of Charleff, and remove him before any incident occurred. But now I believe the best course is simply to knock on the door and visit in person. The unknown danger is what truly frightens us." "Captain, I'd like to go with you," Frank Lee said, remembering how busy he had been with experiments lately and how long it had been since he last performed the duties of a chief officer. Cadrya, removing her thick glasses and securing them to the waist of her black wizard's robe, nodded. "Very well." After speaking, she stepped out of the shadowed corner and walked toward the main door of Charles' workshop. As she neared, she looked up at the crimson moon piercing through the clouds, then curled her fingers and gently tapped the door three times. Soon after, a series of footsteps approached, and the main door creaked open. Charles, the craftsman, showed little change from before—still slender and dark-complexioned, with slightly swollen under-eye circles, and a smile strained but managed to emerge from his brown eyes: "General, what's this time?" He stood at the doorway, blocking the glow of the gas wall lights behind him, casting a soft, dim light over the area and making himself seem immersed in shadow. Gauthier watched him for a few seconds, then spoke slowly: "I have a new idea—I'd like to make you my crew member." Her feet remained still, showing no intention of entering. Charles' expression tightened, and his tone suddenly grew somber: "Why?" Gardelie's gaze suddenly stilled, then slowly spoke: "Because I am a pirate." Pirates didn't need reasons—they simply did what they wanted, whenever they felt like it. Charles's facial muscles twitched slightly, and a fresh smile returned to his eyes: "I can serve as your sailor, though, as a 'craftsman,' I believe I'd be more effective in a larger city." "I agree with your point," Gardelie said, easing the resistance in his resolve, "but before that, you must stay with me on my 'Future' and become a companion to the others." Charles's expression gradually darkened, and his voice, slightly distant, replied: "I fear I won't be able to control myself—I have a strong desire to reproduce every day..." "A strong desire to reproduce?" Frank Lee, standing beside them, brightened and asked, confirming. Charles paused, unsure whether to nod or shake his head. Frank then turned to Captain Galadriya, the "Star General," and asked with evident excitement: "Captain, this is my experimental assistant, isn't it? I absolutely love this quality of his!" Galadriya remained silent for several seconds, then nodded slowly and solemnly: "Yes." Frank immediately broke into a warm smile and extended his right hand toward Charle, the "Craftsman": "Pleased to meet you. My name is Frank Lee, First Mate of the *Future*. " Charle's expression returned to normal; he shook hands with Frank with a touch of curiosity, then asked: "Will you only be staying on the *Future* for a short time?" "By my honor," Galadriya replied sincerely, silently adding to herself: It won't be long before the Queen herself comes to resolve your matter. "Well, I suppose I can't beat you," Charle shrugged. "Allow me to collect my personal belongings, then." He then stepped back two paces, turned around, and walked toward the staircase at the far end of the hall. As he walked, he suddenly paused, facing away from Gauthier and Frank Lee, and said with a light, slow tone, "The moonlight tonight is as beautiful as always, isn't it?" Without waiting for a response, he continued on, vanishing into the staircase. Only then did Gauthier's serious expression begin to become evident. Since Charles had opened the door, she had already noticed something was amiss: If the past Charles had been a normal human spirit, then now he was a conjoined being! This conjoined being was rapidly growing and expanding under the glow of the moonlight. This was not something I can handle on my own—I must write to the Queen, and I mustn't forget to mention my meeting request with Germán Sparo... Gauthier sighed silently, instinctively lifting her face. High above, the clouds were thin, and a bright, quiet red moon shone through. …… Beckland, Hilston district, "East Byrnes Retired Officers' Club." Daven Tout and Member Machet stepped down from the carriage and entered the hall together.