Mr. Azk, Another encouraging change is that an increasing number of students, mail carriers, and technical workers are purchasing bicycles, and the number of horse-drawn carriages on the streets has significantly decreased. This means that horse manure and its pervasive odor have stepped down from their dominant role in Beckland's air quality—though they still hold a considerable presence. You know, the well-bred gentlemen and ladies won't easily compromise their status. Nevertheless, from my observations, their younger children are gradually developing an interest in bicycles. "I'd almost forgotten to tell you—I've just purchased a manor that once belonged to the Duke of Negan. It's called 'Morgos.' It features its own premium vineyards and winery, as well as a vast stretch of woods and farmland, perfect for both cultivation and hunting. The main house is square in shape, with one long side missing, and spans four floors, boasting numerous rooms. I wandered around for quite some time without even stepping into the grand hall—I must have walked over ten thousand steps. The manor is also adorned with an abundance of sculptures, oil paintings, decorative elements, and exquisite tableware, making it quite regal, almost like a palace. Perhaps my description is a bit exaggerated, since I've never actually seen a true palace. This is, after all, my very first manor. I still remember in Tinggen, when I lived with my brother and sister in a rented apartment with only two rooms, and every night we had to fall asleep to the scent of coal smoke." "This is Major Colonel Qunnas Colg, whom I've introduced to you. It cost me a total of twenty thousand gold pounds. Don't worry about my finances—I've made a substantial fortune on the Southern Continent, and I've also sold several magical items. I currently have over seventeen thousand pounds in cash, fifteen thousand pounds in gold bars, and a variety of coins, soules, and pence. I'm quite satisfied with the Rosemire Estate. I've appointed my former personal butler, Richardstone, as estate steward. It's now autumn, and I'm planning to invite guests there for a pleasant weekend. I hope Richardstone will be well-prepared. The mysterious world of Becland remains unchanged—may it stay so. The 'magic mirror' I mentioned earlier has regained its original condition, though it seems to have sustained a post-traumatic stress disorder specifically affecting Amun. Whenever a relevant matter is raised, it automatically alters the font color, provides incorrect answers, and repeatedly asks me to praise it." "It now holds a different view on leaving the Steam Church, seemingly deciding to stay a bit longer, believing that would be safer. In fact, it even wishes to reveal its harmful nature and evolve into a 'Class 1' seal object. I must say, its thinking always astonishes me. "Thanks to some of its answers, I've discovered a method for creating pure darkness—by using night-domain talismans infused with dreams. This response belongs to the 'Goddess of Night' and can be categorized as pure. Furthermore, after repeated trials, I've finally mastered the meditative inscription of divine symbols and have successfully produced the desired items." As I write this, sitting on the sofa with my thighs serving as a desk, Caine pauses his pen and gently rubs his temple. Each failure means the loss of another 'spirit insect,' and every time a 'spirit insect' is separated, it feels like a profound tearing of his spiritual essence, requiring a considerable period of recovery. Therefore, to leave room for unexpected contingencies, Cline never pushes himself to his limits. After separating three or four "spirit insects," he takes a few days off to begin attempting the inscription, cycling between trying and pausing, until now he has finally mastered the method and produced finished works. He glances at the rectangular "diamond" placed beside him, and within its continuously refracting light, he sees complex symbols extending layer upon layer into the void—his head slightly dizzy, as though witnessing a historical moment. He names it the "Reenactment of Yesterday" incantation. Cline withdraws his gaze and continues writing: "Another storm has made landfall along the coastal regions, and both houses of the kingdom have entered the traditional period of significant legislative discussions. With the New Year drawing near and growing louder, an inexplicable sense of concern arises. "I hope you recover soon and awaken promptly." "Your ever-devoted student, Caine Moretti." He set down the pen, folded the letter, and blew across the Aztec copper whistle, summoning the white skeletal messenger nearly four meters tall. Unlike before, this messenger revealed only its head and one arm—resting beneath the floor, extending into the second floor. This made it appear much shorter than Caine himself. After all, I'm now barely qualifying as one of the Death's chosen... Caine handed the letter to the messenger, watching it dissolve into a cascade of white bones and sink into the floor. Having completed these tasks, he reached for the "Reverie of Yesterday" talisman resting on the sofa arm. It was his first successful creation—he intended to use it himself first, since now that he had experience, the rest would be easier. As for whether drawing upon the strength of his historical self posed any danger, Caine had already consulted the gray mist—anticipating that if it involved the true "Fool" or the "Gate's" master, at least the gray mist and the mysterious space would offer some protection. And the oracular result was exceptionally secure. After gazing at the long, diamond-like incantation for several seconds, Caine no longer hesitated. He opened his mouth and uttered an ancient Hermes word: "History!" ——He had chosen to attempt this in the real world rather than in the ethereal realm, out of concern that the mysterious space might obstruct his connection to the past. As the resonant, difficult-to-articulate voice echoed through the air, Caine infused the spiritual essence into the "Reenactment of Yesterday" incantation. Light spread out like fine hair, illuminating the surroundings with a clear and pure radiance. Faintly, a scene began to unfold before Caine's eyes. There he was, dancing with Dailie Simonne beside the body of Inz. Zangwei; There he was, with silvering hair and distinguished bearing, Dauin Tangtai; There he was, hat in hand, carried gently by the wind, stepping aboard the "Black Iris"; There he was, struggling desperately as the meteor descended, Sherlock Moriarty; There he was, listening to the cries of a newborn at Black Thorns Security, summoning the "Sunshine," Caine Moretti; There he was, the young graduate, raising his revolver, aiming it at his own temple, pale-faced. Beyond that, all images faded, leaving only a gray-white mist. And even as the power of the incantation waned, Caine never once noticed the far end of that mist. Indeed, my journey across dimensions is connected to that gray mist, that mysterious space, and that peculiar "light gate"... This essentially confirms that I had been asleep within a cocoon, suspended above the light gate, in a state of continuous stillness for an unknown duration. Compared to the state of wonder when I first witnessed the "light gate," Klein now appears remarkably calm—almost as if this outcome had been anticipated all along. Inhale. Now, I can prepare two "reverie of yesterday" sigils for Will. These sigils serve me little purpose. This week, I'll skip visiting his home; every week, I go to deliver ice cream, and it's starting to seem as though his housemaid's gaze toward me has grown increasingly odd. Moreover, since I've mastered the "meditative inscription" technique of divine symbols, it's time to begin exploring the use of "time insects" as extraordinary projectiles. Yes, Leonard mentioned he'll be heading to Tübingen soon to test whether he can siphon the power of the mutated solar emblem. Klein raised a hand, gently massaged his forehead, and then rose from the sofa. — At a previous tarot gathering, Leonard had already received from Parès Soloyasde four divine symbols and magical emblems drawn from the domain of "The Thief." It was said that one could mislead an enemy, causing him to make erroneous judgments; another could steal three extraordinary abilities previously used by the target, tracing them back sequentially from the most recent instance; a third, if successfully applied, could profoundly affect an enemy, causing him to lose significant life and enter an accelerated state of aging; and a fourth could generate "time-beings"—short-lived entities that would quietly "inhabit" the target's body, controlled by the one who casts the spell. Of the seven "time-beings" remaining with Crane, three "Thief-of-Abilities" incantations had already been prepared—one given to the "Justice" lady, two retained by himself—leaving him with four "time-beings" to experiment with the four distinct effects. Of course, his intuition suggested that not all of them would necessarily succeed. As for Leonard's two "Chrono-Beetles," one transformed into the "Steward of Fortune" talisman—Leonard, following the teachings of the World, Germain Sparo, petitioned the "Knight of the Fool" and received a response—while the other, with the aid of Parves Soloyasda, was crafted into the "Parasite" talisman. After a flurry of activity, by evening, Klein successfully completed five attempts and failed once, securing two "Resurrection of Yesterday" talismans, one "Parasite Bullet," one "Deception Bullet," and one "Withdrawal Bullet." His sole failure was the "Decline Bullet," likely because the layers of mysterious spatial power he could currently mobilize within the gray mist were still insufficient. Gazing at the three bullets—visually similar, alternating between transparent and semi-transparent—Klein exhaled in relief, then removed the "Bell of Doom" revolver and carefully inserted each of them—one of which had been previously crafted by him into three "Spirit-Control Bullets." Having arranged the altar, he stepped out of the room, descended to the second floor, entered the dining room, and addressed the steward Walter, who stood beside him: "We can now invite the guests who are going on weekend hunting trips, according to the list we've prepared." "Yes, sir." Walter had been well prepared for this, as always, remaining serious and composed. ………… Tinggen, 36 Zötlan Street. Leonard stepped down from the carriage, his expression complex as he gazed at the newly reconstructed building, momentarily forgetting to enter.