5th Stanley Road, located at the edge of the inner district. This area leaned toward the southern outer district, being neither poor nor bougie, hovering just in the middle.

  Ulrich strode down the uneven road, finally stopping in front of a small bakery with the signboard—"Freud Bakehouse". As he pushed the door and entered, the bell jingled, announcing his presence.

  "Welcome in!" Greeted an old, female voice. Ulrich turned his eyes, his lips curling into a slight smile as he bowed.

  "Greetings to you, Ms. Freud."

  She wore a white linen turban-like 'nightcap' and a large white apron—the vanilla white, not quite pure white, dotted with blue squares.

  "I haven't seen you in a while, Ulrich. Is everything alright, dear?" Her voice was soft and soothing, not quite a match to her rather frayed appearance.

  "Yes," He nodded, his eyes turning away, and for a moment, he hesitated on whether or not to inform her of Selena's absence.

  It seems like she isn't aware of the news yet…

  "Have you heard the recent news?" He asked, walking toward the basket of bread and taking his pick of the freshly baked goods.

  "The news?"

  "Are you referring to the offshore bans? Or the protest at the southern district?"

  Hearing this, Ulrich's hand froze.

  "The protest? It is already at that point?" He recalled Donnie's Shelby words, as well as the weaponry that was in his hands.

  If he had returned the goods, shouldn't the bans be lifted, people returning to their usual life?

  Thinking along this line, he had a feeling that something was not quite right. It seems like he would have to give Donnie a visit, given a chance.

  "You seem surprised, I mean, shouldn't that naturally be the case? People protest every time there is a radical decision being made, this is the norm." She said, placing another basket of bread onto the wooden counter.

  Ulrich didn't comment on it and quickly changed the topic, averting the need to answer her question.

  "Have you seen Selena around?"

  Immediately, he noticed something abnormal. Isn't this an ordinary question? Why did she look like she saw a ghost?

  "Boy, you are the third to ask this question. What's the matter?" She asked in return, realizing that something wasn't quite right.

  "Nothing. Who asked about her before me?"

  She thought about it for a moment, then decided to tell him the truth.

  "Three nights ago, someone came. A middle-aged man, I couldn't quite tell because it was dark, and he was covered up. He inquired about her as a friend, such as her favorite food, restaurants, or hobbies. But I admit I didn't tell him the truth."

  Hearing this, Ulrich frowned, letting her continue without interrupting.

  "To the Mother, I swear he gave off a very strange feeling." She paused, her face fell into thought, as though to pull the past scenes into the present.

  "After that, he left. He didn't seem to question my answers. I was quite confused, maybe I was wrong… But thinking about it again, that lad must be up to no good!"

  Her description of this 'friend' had him thinking.

  Three Nights ago, this is before her disappearance… He recalled Lewis Smith's appearance, who was in her home, the same one he had killed.

  "Ms. Freud, did you notice anything abnormal about him? Or details of his appearance, even the slightest bit would help."

  By this point, she could tell something was wrong and quickly answered him.

  "Yes, I believe he had rather short hair, as the hat he wore was cut short."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "What about his eye color? Or any items he carried on his person that are out of the ordinary?"

  "Hmm…" She paused, staring into the ceiling, and finally exclaimed.

  "That's right! When he asked me about her hobbies and likes, he was fiddling with a pendulum in his hand."

  A pendulum!

  Ulrich hissed. In his mind, he immediately thought of Lewis Smith. However, he suppressed his shock and urged her to continue, "What about the second instance? Who else, other than me, asked about her?"

  "Just before you, an Inspector came. A well-mannered young man, I must say. He showed me his credentials, so I trusted him and answered all his questions honestly."

  "I believe he introduced himself as Victor Dunley."

  "Did something happen to Selena?" She asked, anxious.

  By this point, she knew something was awry. The thought that Selena, that dazzling gem, who lived a rather ordinary life, would face any misfortune left her heart aching.

  Ulrich let out a deep breath and said, "Truth be told, it was a home robbery, Ms. Freud. I happened to learn about it not long ago. She is currently missing, and I'm hoping to find her myself."

  Immediately, she almost hit the bread basket as her hand dropped toward the ground.

  "That poor child! How could those vicious people target her?"

  Seeing this, Ulrich expressed his shared feelings, "At times like this, we should pray the Mother to bless her with good fortune."

  Ms. Freud nodded and tapped her chest thrice, " Praise the Mother."

  "Praise the Mother," Ulrich repeated, then left the Bakehouse.

  After leaving, Ulrich performed a divination to confirm that the first person who visited Ms. Freud was Lewis Smith.

  To his dismay, the result was positive. However, this was well within his expectations. At the same time, the feedback from the divination allowed him to deduce another principle.

  The greater the amount of information provided when performing a divination, the more likely it is for the result to be correct, as well as consuming less spirituality.

  Divination is built on the basis of information—past, present, or future.

  He recalled a similar principle on Modern Earth and decided to call it "Informativeness Principle".

  By the time Ulrich left, it was already half past five. He decided to give Donnie a visit and raise a few questions of his own.

  The sun gradually fell on the horizon as Ulrich made his way to Portsmouth, a trip that took half an hour from "Freud Bakehouse".

  Perhaps, he could save the trip by performing a divination, but following the first and second principles of Divination, the result would either be inaccurate or false. This can't be helped, after all, divination is not omniscient.

  When Ulrich left the carriage, Billie was standing in front of the Slough House entrance, rather surprised by his unprompted visit. However, he didn't stop him and offered a greeting with that stench of whiskey on his body.

  As Ulrich entered the back room, he saw Donnie drinking to himself. Adeline wasn't in the room, probably busy elsewhere. She wasn't exactly the type to involve herself in the family business. So it was no surprise she was absent.

  "You didn't return the goods, did you?" Ulrich said, skipping the pleasantry.

  For a second, Donnie's hand froze, then slowly, he placed the wine glass onto the wooden counter and narrowed his eyes.

  "You have sharp ears, Ulrich."

  He noticed something different about the man standing in front of him. It has only been months since he saw the young man, yet, it seem like he became an entirely different person.

  A true man. That's what appeared in Donnie's mind. In fact, he felt like the person standing in front of him at this moment was not the same one that visited the day before.

  In the past, he always had this feeling that Ulrich was reserved, as though something was holding him back from being the true man he ought to be. What was it? What brought this sudden change?

  "I am returning it…" He said slowly, gauging Ulrich's reaction.

  He thought about passing a lie, but with Ulrich's intuition and keen insight, it was an impossible task. As such, Donnie decided to quite frank.

  "Just not to the original owner. There is a rather large client from offshore who wish to buy these crates in my hand."

  Hearing this, Ulrich frowned.

  "Who is this client? There is not many who have such purchasing power in the entirety of Belham and are not afraid of the Union."

  "The Resistance. They have been rallying the people to go against the Union for some time now in the Eastern Luminant of the Fog Sea. It just so happened that Belham is within the range of their influence."

  Immediately, Ulrich's mouth opened, hoping to persuade Donnie otherwise, then closed.

  "Alright."

  Would his words convince Donnie otherwise? Impossible. Ulrich knew Donnie was a determined man fueled by raging ambition. Such a man is difficult to persuade.

  In fact, Ulrich was more confident that he would have an easier time convincing a pig to fly than to persuade Donnie to change his mind.

  Helpless, he could only offer a word of advice before leaving Slough House.

  After leaving Portsmouth, Ulrich called a carriage and headed to the address on the business card given to him by Ottis Owen, located on 61st Euston Street. It was rather close to St. Samuel, just a couple of streets away.

  He made the decision to join the Ministry, earn their protection, and gradually gain a foothold in the world of mysticism. Any rational person would make this choice after weighing the pros and cons.

  Ultimately, Ulrich considered himself quite rational.

  As he stepped off the carriage and walked to his destination, he noted the surroundings.

  The street was lined with well-maintained shops and bars, their exterior bearing the understated elegance characteristic of the inner district's rather classy appearance.

  In particular, he was looking for a signboard that reads "Cartwright Security", the same name written on the card. His search didn't take long, as he found the exact signboard, tucked between two rather elegant buildings—one that sells alcohol, and another that sells suits.

  Cartwright Security's front was quite unassuming, and if not for his deliberate search, perhaps Ulrich would have just walked past it.

  At this moment, Ulrich patted his black coat and made his way toward the door, then pressed his palm against the wooden frame and exerted a bit of force.

  Creak.

  "Welcome in! Carwright Security at your service~"