“Mika is very good at hiding.” “I was curious once, but seeing how stable they transport ‘ingredients,’ I did not delve deeper.” “However, I know of several of their contact points and two secret bases.” Jason wasn’t surprised by this response. If Mika had been so easy to catch, Edward would not have been at his wits’ end. Similarly, if Hannibal had not prepared anything, he would not be worthy of being called a ‘hunter.’ Jason was fairly certain that when he encountered Dadas, Hannibal had guessed what Mika had intended to do. Jason had no argument against this. He had seen it before, hadn’t he? Things that threatened oneself and could not be used had to be destroyed. Moreover, the rise of gunpowder was the most direct strike against the “Mystical Side.” Afterwards, Jason and Hannibal had a pleasant conversation. Or rather, an exchange. The two had a simple yet profound discussion on how to hunt “food.” “I’ve now found some traces of ‘food.’ “They’re much smarter than before, but they always leave traces.” “Would you like to take a look?” Hannibal extended an invitation to Jason. Jason nodded immediately. He rarely refused anything related to ‘food’ and matters concerning ‘food.’ The two made their way to the bedroom. Unlike other bedrooms. In Hannibal’s room, aside from a bed, there were photos, cut-out newspapers, and numerous records covering the walls. Jason glanced over and saw reports that had been in the newspapers: “The Ripper Under Nightfall” and “The Echoes of the Hanged.” However, unlike the reports in the newspapers, The details here were much more thorough in Hannibal’s room. Not just records of the victims, but also of the killers. For “The Ripper Under Nightfall” there were some clear records about the culprit: Height 180-185cm, physically strong, left-handed, knew some fighting techniques, skilled with knives, accustomed to blood, speculated to be a doctor or butcher, had a private carriage or car, lived alone in an urban area. “Are you interested in him?” “I’m interested in any ‘food,'” Jason said with a smile. “This is a cunning one; I’ve been tracking him for nearly six weeks now.” “But he hasn’t slipped up yet.” “These clues are only approximate.” “However, much stronger than he is.” Hannibal said regretfully, while pointing at the wall where “The Echoes of the Hanged” hung. Compared to “The Ripper Under Nightfall,” there were far fewer records for “The Echoes of the Hanged;” in fact, it was almost none. There was only this: Gender likely male? Even just this sentence, Hannibal had placed a question mark behind it. “This individual is the most cunning ‘food’ I’ve ever seen. Not a single clue left at the scene, and no pattern to the crimes. They are indiscriminate of time, location, or the gender and age of the victims. Aside from all being hanged, there are basically no commonalities. Even the gender described here is a speculation,” Hannibal spoke of this ‘food’ without any discouragement but rather with excitement. Then, he turned his gaze to the wall directly opposite the head of the bed in the bedroom. Unlike other walls crammed with clippings, there was only one drawing here— A vast, lurking figure shrouded in mist occupied ninety percent of the canvas, while countless tiny figures below it were panicking, distressed, screaming, bowing, or shooting guns. It just kept moving forward. Without any hesitation. “Is that the original colossal wraith?” Then, Jason fixed his gaze on the immense figure for a good ten seconds before he let out a long breath and said: “How exquisitely delicious it must be!” Hannibal, who had been waiting for Jason’s answer, immediately laughed. Indeed, he was worthy of the king to whom he had sworn loyalty. In the king’s eyes, any strong, Bizarre existence was just another dish.