Previously, Goethe couldn’t understand why Miss Sheila would seek out Swart.

  It couldn’t possibly be for reasons like forming an alliance or seeking protection.

  This wasn’t Swart’s first time at the Garden Club.

  It wasn’t the first time Miss Sheila knew of him either.

  If she wanted to meet him, she would have arranged it long ago.

  Besides, considering the circles she moved in, with just a hint of her intentions, there were people far more useful than Swart, people who would eagerly offer their services.

  So what did Swart have, aside from his own authority?

  Money?

  That was laughable.

  For someone of Miss Sheila’s stature, even if her wealth were reduced tenfold, she could easily outshine Swart by miles.

  That’s why, before, Goethe simply couldn’t fathom it.

  But now, Goethe finally understood.

  It wasn’t Miss Sheila looking for Swart.

  It was the "Fog Killer" who was after him!

  Why was the Fog Killer doing this?

  Of course, it was to try and "remove" all the people around him, even if those people seemed utterly useless.

  As for why not directly come after him?

  Goethe’s eyes turned toward Morey, who was dressed in women's clothes, and he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

  The Fog Killer wasn’t a fool. If they were, they wouldn’t have escaped the official pursuit in the capital, Bode, and then eliminated a special, superhuman official in Lustre.

  Most likely, the Fog Killer had predicted that Morey would use "divination" to track his movements.

  Then, the Fog Killer boldly laid their trap, waiting for Morey to step into it.

  But… they weren’t sure who Morey was!

  Even though theFog Killer knew more about "supernaturals" than he did!

  So, he was left behind!

  He became the "bait" to lure Morey out!

  Just as Morey used him as bait to draw the Fog Killer out!

  Between Morey and the Fog Killer, the roles of hunter and prey continuously shifted.

  And him?

  He was, from beginning to end, nothing more than "bait."

  In fact, he could be called the "ultimate bait."

  Goethe didn’t mind this.

  He only hoped to stay alive.

  With that thought, Goethe stopped in his tracks.

  "Morey, I think we should change our entrance."

  He said this aloud.

  ...

  At the Garden Club, in the hall.

  The whispers that had filled the room came to a brief halt once again.

  Everyone's attention was drawn to the lady who appeared at the corner of the hall.

  Her exquisite, beautiful face made the bright lights in the hall seem dull by comparison.

  Especially for the men, their gazes were firmly fixed on the lady in the blue dress.

  As for the other women who had previously appeared attractive?

  They were fine before, but with the appearance of the lady in blue, they suddenly seemed plain, almost ugly, in comparison.

  As they stared, their eyes suddenly froze.

  Who was the man holding her hand?

  Why did the lady look so shy?

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  And why were they heading toward the door?

  Then—

  "To the Pinecone Hotel."

  Goethe’s voice clearly rang out in the hall.

  The Pinecone Hotel was the finest and most expensive hotel in Lustre, located in a wealthy district where nobles and the rich lived. It was beautiful, clean, and very safe, with police patrolling around the clock and private bodyguards of the nobles making it a no-go zone for others.

  What would a man and a woman do at the best, most expensive hotel in the city?

  The answer was obvious.

  Immediately, all the men felt disheartened.

  Meanwhile, the surrounding women were filled with jealousy.

  "She's just a short-term contract worker on her first day, what’s so special about her?"

  "Yeah, she’s nothing special!"

  "Exactly!"

  The jealous mutterings rang out, but those women suddenly noticed the men around them becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

  It wasn’t until this moment that they realized the foolishness of their actions.

  Normally, they would never do such a thing, but jealousy made them ugly, and it clouded their judgment.

  They regretted it instantly.

  But it was too late.

  That lady in the blue dress was destined to be the focus of the evening.

  The carriage wheels rolled swiftly over the smooth cobblestone streets, heading straight for the Pinecone Hotel.

  Inside the carriage, Morey lit a piece of incense, then quickly made several gestures that ordinary people couldn’t possibly replicate. Only after that did he softly say: "We can talk now."

  "Were you just blocking the sound?" Goethe asked curiously.

  This wasn’t an act, he was genuinely interested in supernatural powers.

  "It wasn’t just blocking the sound, it was a disguise."

  "If someone wants to listen, they’ll hear what they wish to hear."

  "And this will help with our plan."

  Morey explained, then looked at Goethe with admiration.

  After Goethe briefly outlined his guess, Morey immediately agreed with his plan.

  As the current special official of the supernaturals in Lustre, Morey understood the Fog Killer’s better than Goethe did.

  "You’re very clever, even smarter than I expected. Plus, your reactions are quick..."

  "So, I hope our cooperation can go deeper."

  With that, Morey stared intently at Goethe.

  Goethe frowned.

  It wasn’t that Goethe opposed deepening the cooperation.

  It was just that the way Morey looked right now made him feel uncomfortable.

  A young woman who appeared as beautiful as a flower, but in reality was a man in his forties with graying hair, sitting across from you and talking about deeper cooperation, it felt almost like being forced to eat canned herring, only to find that the supposed post-meal fruit was durian.

  That feeling...

  It was like seeing a stick meant for stirring muck!

  Goethe had no choice but to look away from Morey, shifting his focus to clear his thoughts.

  "Deepening cooperation is fine, but what do I gain from it?"

  "Can I learn these supernatural powers?"

  Goethe asked directly, having quickly adjusted his mindset.

  It wasn’t that he couldn’t take a more roundabout approach, but Goethe felt that, given the current situation, being straightforward was better.

  "Yes."

  "Provided you have the talent!"

  "If you don’t have the talent, even if you learn… the results won’t be as good as a revolver, unless you want to perform tricks on the street."

  Morey answered directly. After a brief pause, he continued, "In addition to learning supernatural powers, you’ll also receive a nice weekly salary, though of course, you’ll have to work for it."

  "Like what we’re doing now?" Goethe asked.

  "Exactly like this," Morey nodded.

  "That’s dangerously close!" Goethe responded.

  "Anything worth doing comes with risk!"

  "And around here, the rewards often far exceed the risk!" Morey emphasized.

  Goethe didn’t respond this time.

  He believed that every effort should have its reward, but as for Morey’s claim that the rewards far exceeded the risks, he didn’t say more. Given the situation, the risks they took, with their lives on the line each time, made even the greatest rewards seem justifiable.

  At that moment, the carriage came to a stop.

  They had arrived at the Pinecone Hotel.

  Morey tugged at ‘her’ hair, then adjusted ‘her’ skirt, looking disheveled as ‘she’ stepped down from the carriage.

  Seeing the driver’s knowing smile, Goethe took a deep breath and threw 1 silver coin at him.

  It wasn’t the market price.

  It was the Garden Club’s price.

  As expensive as ever.

  But Goethe was confident it would be worth it.

  And indeed, it proved to be so.

  Just as Goethe and Morey were about to link arms and enter the hotel, a thin fog appeared in the distance.

  The next moment, the fog thickened, swelling like a tide, rushing toward them.

  Goethe seemed startled, his face filled with panic as he grabbed Morey and ran toward the Pinecone Hotel.

  But the fog came too fast.

  In an instant, it enveloped them both.

  Seeing this, Morey smiled.

  The "Fog Killer" had finally taken the bait!

  Without hesitation, Morey pulled a scroll from beneath ‘her’ skirt and tore it open.

  A burst of light erupted.

  The thick fog was instantly dispersed.

  "Ah!"

  A scream, faint yet piercing, echoed in Goethe’s ears. It seemed far away, yet close, and Goethe couldn’t rely on the sound to pinpoint its source, while Morey instantly tracked it.

  "I’ll be right back!"

  With those words, Morey darted off.

  The speed was astonishing. In the time it took for Goethe to take a breath, Morey’s figure had already vanished.

  However, chaos erupted at the end of the street.

  Bang, bang!

  Two gunshots rang out, and the two patrolling officers who had been standing nearby collapsed to the ground. Seven or eight figures, all armed, appeared in Goethe’s line of sight.

  "Kill him!"

  As soon as they saw Goethe, they shouted.

  Goethe glanced behind him, then, unhurriedly, pushed open the door and walked into the nearby Pinecone Hotel. Seeing the calm and collected front desk attendant, he said, "Give me a room!"