Night had fallen. Ever since the Great Smog Incident, new laws concerning "air pollution" had been enacted, and the clouds above Backlund had grown thinner and paler. The crimson light of the Scarlet Moon spilled faintly over the darkened streets, brightening them just a little. However, at No. 5 Williams Street in the West Borough—inside Princess Vera’s villa—dense fog swirled thickly, blocking all forms of observation. "That old dragon has come to some realizations after the failure of his latest scheme. He won’t dare provoke you again so easily," Vera said as she sat on her bed, adjusting the collar of her nightgown before glancing toward Ebner, who stood not far away. "Also, he specifically mentioned that the suitcase and the young girl holding it are both yours to deal with—his apology for the offense." After finishing his brief meeting with Audrey, Ebner had come straight here to learn about the aftermath of last night’s events. Upon hearing this, he couldn’t help but chuckle. "The ’Dragon of Imagination’ really does know how to curry favor in the easiest way possible..." After all, both Islant and the "Corrupted Suitcase" were already his spoils of war. Using them as an apology gift was rather stingy. "Of course, that’s not all..." Vera raised a finger and continued, "He also made a promise, offered a piece of information, and gave a piece of advice." "A promise, information, and advice? What are they?" Ebner asked with interest. "The promise," Vera said, "is that he’ll transfer the identity of ’Arrogance’ to you at an appropriate time in the future. "As for the information—it concerns Mr. ’Gluttony,’ who’s stationed in Conston City. "He said that this gentleman relies on a Sealed Artifact matching the ’Gluttony’ pathway and has lived for at least five hundred years. He’s changed identities over and over, so few have noticed. If not for his mind slowly decaying, even dragons of angelic rank wouldn’t be able to detect him." Vera recounted the "Dragon King’s" promise and intelligence, leaving only the "advice" unspoken. The identity of ’Pride,’ huh? That could indeed come in handy... say, when dealing with George III. Mr. Gluttony in Conston City? What does that have to do with me? Why would the old dragon bring him up specifically? Hmm... the only thing on my current task list related to Conston City is investigating Silica’s death. Could this five-hundred-year-old ’Gluttony’ be connected to her demise? At the very least, he must be an important suspect—or a provider of key clues. Otherwise, the Dragon of Imagination wouldn’t have deliberately offered this information as part of his apology. After a brief chain of thoughts, Ebner looked back at Vera. "And what about the final piece—the advice?" Vera opened her mouth, tried a few times, then shook her head. "His advice involves that Being. Even with my mist shielding me, at my current level—merely at angel rank—I can’t speak it aloud. "He doesn’t mind that I know it, but I’m forbidden to tell you." Pointing toward the night sky outside the window, she added softly, "From my perspective, he did it deliberately—to sow doubt and erode your trust in that Being." Something involving the Goddess, which I’m not yet allowed to know? A simple ploy of sowing discord—but one that strikes directly at the heart. Still, even without that trick, I’d never completely trust a god. It’s an unpleasant tactic, but at most it’s just a nuisance. Neither the Goddess nor I will pay it much mind right now. Ebner shook his head slightly, losing interest in the so-called advice. Seeing this, Vera narrowed her eyes briefly before returning to normal. She then warned, "The ’Dragon King’ is not a magnanimous being. Though he’s suffered a setback and probably won’t act in the short term, he’ll surely look for a chance to get back at you. Be careful." "I understand," Ebner said solemnly with a nod. In truth, marked by two goddesses and carrying a fragment of angel-level power himself, he wasn’t too concerned. After reviewing with Vera some of the knowledge concerning mythical forms along the "Black Emperor" pathway, Ebner "politely" took his leave. Watching his figure fade away, Vera withdrew the mist and gazed up at the crimson moon, murmuring quietly, "Until he reaches Sequence 3 and stabilizes his divinity, I can’t approach him again... If that balance is broken... Forget it. With that Being watching, it’s unlikely to reach that point anyway..." Friday morning, in a manor on the outskirts of Bayam. Fınd the newest release on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩•𝗳𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝕟𝕖𝕥 With Anderson’s introduction, a man with clear Feynopotter features—Ockfa Conakris—sold the revolver Death Knell After explaining the gun’s strengths and side effects, the slightly plump, round-faced, amiable-looking middle-aged man added, "Oh, right. Just carrying it isn’t too bad—it merely makes you feel thirsty. Drink plenty of water and visit the lavatory often, and it’ll be fine." Well, now Gehrman Sparrow’s constant trips to the lavatory finally have a ’reasonable’ explanation... Klein mocked himself, then said evenly, "I’ll test it. If there’s no problem, it’s a deal." He certainly didn’t intend to fire the weapon for real—that would only create a new weakness. Instead, he used spiritual exploration combined with divinatory truth-detection. He acted so calmly that he didn’t even care about Ockfa’s or Anderson’s eyes on him. I’ll verify it again above the gray fog later... Still, Ockfa probably wouldn’t dare lie to me. He must fear retaliation from a crazy adventurer like me. He’s already returned to a quiet, stable life, with a wife and children... Klein placed Death Knell on the table, opened his suitcase, and took out the 9,000 pounds he’d brought from above the gray fog to "air out" in the real world. Ockfa accepted the money and quickly counted it, confirming its authenticity and total. After a few good-natured jabs between him and Anderson, Ockfa was about to have a servant see them out when the cold, stoic adventurer before him said flatly, "May I borrow your lavatory?" Ockfa froze for several seconds before responding, "Of course." He summoned a servant to guide Klein to the guest lavatory at the corner of the first floor. Once Klein’s figure disappeared completely, Ockfa murmured in disbelief, "Death Knell’s side effect is taking effect that quickly? That can’t be right... Has it accumulated from disuse?" Anderson smirked and said, "Ockfa, maybe you should consider another possibility... What if it’s a personal issue? "You know, back on the Future, "You’re not afraid he’ll shoot you for that?" Ockfa clearly understood the strongest hunter’s habit of provocation but hadn’t expected him to dare insinuate something about the crazy adventurer’s kidneys. "Tsk, he may be cold and insane, but he’s still reasonable," Anderson clicked his tongue. "If it’s true, he won’t deny it." Ockfa gave him a deep look, then decisively took a step back to increase their distance. After all, the lavatory was just around the corner—and with the crazy adventurer’s abilities, he might well hear everything. In fact, Klein did hear it. Though he wanted badly to shoot Anderson, he first had to accept a letter from Miss Messenger. Yes, the only reason he’d entered the lavatory was because he’d sensed Miss Messenger’s subtle "warning." Ever since Sharon had advanced to demigod and conversed with Miss Messenger, the latter had become much more polite—at the very least, she now gave Klein a brief spiritual notice before emerging from the spirit world. Klein quickly skimmed the letter and saw that the sender was Danitz. The "infamous great pirate" wrote that Lieutenant Iceberg wished to see him and asked him to confirm the time and place. Just as his gaze left the letter, he heard Miss Messenger—Reinette Tinekerr’s—four heads speak in turn: "Wants to..." "see you..." "the one..." "is..." "That..." "who bears..." "a demon’s..." "resentful spirit..." A person bearing a demon’s resentful spirit? That combination sounds creepy... Who could it be? Wait, I remember Ebner mentioning that the "Pale Admiral" Maria had a demonic characteristic sealed within her. And as one of the five survivors of that experiment eleven years ago, she’s likely far from as ’holy’ as she appears... Also—this isn’t very mystic, is it? My messenger moonlighting as an informant? Then again, she’s worked as Ebner’s hired muscle before... though she charges a bit much. Klein thought as he asked aloud, "You investigated the Golden Dream?" "Sharon..." "asked me..." "to help you..." "with warning..." Reinette Tinekerr’s four heads spoke one after another, staring at Klein with eerie calm.