After taking a detour to the new safe house in the East Borough to change her outfit and performing anti-divination with black flames, Angel finally returned to her home on Red Rose Street.
This time, besides anti-divination, she also attempted more "traditional" anti-tracking methods—switching carriages, taking roundabout routes while observing behind her, and even passing through a coffee shop that was still open after nightfall, entering through the front door and exiting through the back to shake off any potential trackers.
Part of this was due to Dominic's reminder before he left, but more so it was a stress response after being tracked down by Miss Lola, that "Pleasure Witch."
After washing up at home, Angel retreated to the basement to organize the special ammunition she planned to sell, the remaining spirituality materials, and the precious "star crystals." The latter had only a few grams left—not enough to complete the next batch of "Storm Gathering" bullets—and urgently needed to be replenished at Mr. A's gathering.
Moreover, it had been over a week since she last attended a gathering. She felt it was time to return to the gathering and make contact with the Witch Sect.
This would be her only method to improve her strength, advance to Sequence 6, and get closer to the true culprit behind the evil god descent incident in Tingen City.
Although Miss Lola had said today that she herself was a Sequence 6 Pleasure Witch who had left the Witch Sect, and seemed to have implicit intentions of recruiting Angel, Angel did not trust this mysterious woman she had only met twice.
Considering the method of acting starting from "Assassin," anyone who could reach her level, whether actively or passively, would basically have the blood of many innocent people on their hands. Even thinking the best of her, she could at most be someone tired of killing—not someone to befriend deeply.
"But perhaps I could obtain the Sequence 6 potion formula from her..."
Listing the mysterious Miss Lola as a backup option for obtaining the potion, Angel began thinking about her next direction for acting.
Through these days of attempts at the divination club, she had found a way to act as a "Witch." Although the efficiency wasn't high, since she didn't have the Sequence 6 formula anyway, and the potion materials were nowhere to be found, there was no need to rush completing the "Witch" digestion.
Continue acting, wait for Mr. A's gathering advertisement notification, find an opportunity to make contact with the Witch Sect...
Burying the plan in her heart, Angel carefully put away the bullets that would soon become pounds, then left the gloomy basement.
Should I just burn the bridge after all...
Setting Backlund Bridge ablaze in broad daylight—as long as enough people see it, maybe it could directly complete the "Witch" potion digestion, instead of sitting here receiving clients doing love divinations...
Seeing off another visitor with a gloomy face, Angel wiped the magic mirror and tucked it close to her body, inwardly criticizing Backlund's customs and practices.
These past two days, she had diligently acted as a mysterious divination witch, hoping to digest the potion while helping some disappointed clients. She hadn't expected that all those who came seeking her services were asking about intimate relationships, whether there was a third party, or were couples on the verge of breaking up.
What was even more terrifying was that Angel discovered that guiding and breaking up these potential couples through divination showed signs of potion digestion that were faster and more obvious than any other time.
Was this the true essence of the "Witch" pathway? Whether Assassin, Instigator, or Witch, all took bringing disaster to others and becoming a calamity as their purpose?
Looking at the back of the man who left with a dark expression to confront his lover after she had said some inappropriate things against her conscience, she sighed quietly and put away the 2 soli on the table.
"Miss Watson, I've brought the Backlund Post you requested."
While she was deep in thought, the divination room door was pushed open, and one of the club's attendants delivered the newspaper she read every day.
"Intis Ambassador to Loen Assassinated at Embassy, Terrorist Organization 'Aurora Order' Claims Responsibility!"
The feature report on the second page bore such a shocking headline, with small text below: Look forward to an exclusive interview with a mysterious insider from the Aurora Order to learn about its magnificent century-long history.
Angel skimmed through it and discovered the incident occurred three days ago—the same night she and Dominic went to rescue the kidnapped Sonya. Combined with the commotion caused by multiple forces competing for the difference engine manuscript, she suspected the ambassador's death was also related to this matter.
However, that manuscript had already been sold to Mr. A, which meant it had fallen into the hands of the "Aurora Order." Why would they assassinate the ambassador?
Personal grudge? Covering up evidence? Or for some other, greater interest?
As for the so-called Aurora Order insider interview, without even asking, she knew it was the newspaper's gimmick. They were an organization of Beyonders, not some ordinary gang...
After pondering for a moment, she flipped to the classified ads on the fifth page and was pleasantly surprised to find another "Seeking Mr. A" entry. From the numbers in the contact address, she could tell that the gathering would be held tomorrow, Monday afternoon.
Finally...
Putting down the newspaper, Angel took a deep breath, her mind reviewing the various explanations she had prepared to deal with the "Witch Sect," the embellishments of her false past, and the people who had died in Ince Zangwill's schemes.
"This will be the first step of revenge."
She stroked the citrine pendant on her wrist and murmured.
Stroking the amethyst pendant on his wrist, Klein watched in the washroom mirror as the bodyguard lady's figure in the black court dress quickly faded away.
The three-day employment had ended. During this period, he had joined forces with this powerful bodyguard to kill the Intis intelligence operative who came to "deal with" him as a small trouble—the Sequence 5 "Marionettist" Rosago. They had explored the underground structure on Williams Street, and today they had spent the entire day searching for information about Viscount Pound. He was quite exhausted.
He had never been so eager to enter the gray fog space, to organize his gains from this period, and to try out some of his ideas from these past few days.
But Klein was very cautious. He wasn't sure whether the bodyguard lady, who could conceal her form, had truly left. So following his usual pace, he continued doing his own things.
Cooking an exquisite dinner to fill his stomach, reading the newspaper to pass time, doing some light indoor exercise...
It wasn't until deep into the night, when he returned to the bedroom and drew the curtains to block out the streetlights and moonlight, that he took out the iron cigarette case and touched Rosago's remaining "All-Black Eye" inside.
Accompanied by a hissing sound that could tear at the spirit, dense black threads spread all around, extending from his limbs and joints to infinity, like control strings on a puppet's body.
Among these threads, there was none belonging to the bodyguard lady.
Confirming that she had left, Klein quickly set up a ritual, summoned his spirit form self, and took the cigarette case above the gray fog.
On the ancient long table, the "All-Black Eye" in the cigarette case no longer revealed madness, as if the pollution within had fallen dormant.
But Klein had no attention to spare for this. In his mind, it was as if a small section of memory had been repaired and reshaped.
The face of that mysterious lady he had been trying to recall since the "Eye of Wisdom" gathering, prompted by the bodyguard lady—the black-haired woman with freckles and no distinctive features—became blurred, became like a faceless person.
In the final memory, only those purple eyes behind the mask remained.
"The bodyguard lady was right. Such beautiful eyes—how could I have left no impression at all?"
He murmured.
The only possibility was that some force had interfered with his memory at the time, making him perceive purple eyes as black, preventing him from recalling the person's specific appearance.
And the gray fog space could resist this force, could eliminate its influence!
But why still couldn't he remember the person's face? Was it because too much time had passed, so that he had no impression at all? Or was there some power that even the gray fog couldn't fully pry open, concealing all of this?
Unable to spare attention for the originally planned experiment with the "All-Black Eye," Klein manifested parchment and wrote down a divination statement.
"The true identity of the lady I met at the gathering."
Reciting the divination statement, he leaned back in his chair with a trace of anticipation and entered the dream.
In the blurry images, Klein saw a steam train driving from the north into fog-shrouded Backlund, saw ships traveling on the Tussock River and bridges spanning the river, saw rows of townhouses along the Tussock riverbank.
Then the dream was interrupted.
"Insufficient information, leading to inability to divine her location?"
Looking at the parchment before him, Klein fell into thought.
This was similar to his first divination of "Red Chimney" in the gray fog space—there was partial feedback, but he couldn't divine the specific result.
"It's also possible that the other party has strong anti-divination methods, to the extent that even the shielding and interference of the gray fog can't fully 'penetrate'... Of course, this isn't the gray fog's fault—it's my own insufficient strength, my inability to fully grasp its power."
From the fragments he saw, he could confirm that the person came to Backlund from another city, lived by the Tussock River, and very likely in the Backlund Bridge area... This was adjacent to the Chorwood district where he lived! Perhaps she lived not far from him? But the images were too blurry, and Backlund had thousands upon thousands of townhouses. This was much harder than finding a red chimney in small Tingen City.
Thinking of his experience joining with Angel to search for the "red chimney," Klein's lips curved upward, but he quickly sobered up and broke free from the recollection.
This time wouldn't be so troublesome. He could borrow more people's power, and he didn't even need to speak through "The Fool"...
He took out the "All-Black Eye" that no longer whispered madly from the iron cigarette case, and manifested a man wearing a hooded robe across the long table.
This person had a dull expression and stiff movements. Rather than a person, he was more like a wooden puppet, but under Klein's manipulation through black threads, he quickly became expressive and moved freely.
"Welcome, new member. Which Tarot card are you prepared to choose?"
Klein asked with a smile.
"The World. I choose 'The World' card."
The man stroked his chin and spoke in a hoarse voice.