The early preparations for establishing the Town of Secret Figures were quite tedious and cumbersome, at least that's what Caine thought. Inside the vast, ancient palace, Caine sat in the high-backed chair belonging to "The Fool," holding a water-absorbing steel pen and writing on ordinary paper, assigning names, ages, and destinies to each Figure. As he did so, he guided one after another "Spirit Worms" out of his body, allowing them to reassemble beside him into a series of distinct duplicates. Some of the Figures sat cross-legged on the floor, others occupied the twenty-one seats beyond "The Fool," and a few materialized beds, settling onto them to rest. Then, each of them summoned different books from the cluttered piles and read them attentively. These books include, but are not limited to: "How to Brew Fine Wine," "Train Dispatching," "The Complete Guide to Pastry Making," "Self-Cultivation for Clergy," "Manuals on Gas Wall Lamps, Gas Meters, and Various Household Mechanical Repairs," "Dixi's Cuisine," "Port Management in Practice," "Fundamentals of Law," "The Woman's Sense of Taste" magazine... These are the specialized knowledge required by different personages, enabling them to fully embody their roles and appear authentic in all aspects—whether engaging in deep conversations or interactions with outsiders. For Crane, merely memorizing these facts poses no difficulty; what is essential is that he truly masters and applies them, without confusing the characters or allowing a sturdy, well-built, yet lower-income switchman to unexpectedly discuss the moisture-retention effectiveness of a certain skincare product or the flaws of a particular silk fabric. Such a situation might create a unique appeal in novels, dramas, or operas, but when transplanted into reality, it clearly appears unrealistic and hinders the progression of rituals. To avoid such issues, Klein had to invest significant early effort, ensuring that every character in the town of secret figures was authentic, well-developed, and appropriately grounded. Fortunately, the number of residents who truly required in-depth expertise in specific fields was not large—most were semi-literate, or even completely illiterate, living by experience and drifting through life without clear direction. For these characters, Klein's learning tasks were considerably lighter, much like workers who underwent minimal training or none at all and entered the assembly line. After an indeterminate period, Klein finally set down his pen, rubbed his temple, and took a deep, long breath. He had now compiled detailed profiles for nearly five thousand residents of the town, and his corresponding knowledge base was nearly complete. "This is simply like directing a massive film—where I'm the screenwriter, the lighting designer, the set designer, the makeup artist, and all the actors too... With this ritual going on, I'm truly teetering on the edge of losing control, just one misstep and I'll split into multiple personalities, plunging into madness... Fortunately, I have a competent psychologist. 'Yes, there's one issue to keep in mind for the town of Secrety: Though I personally am a well-mannered, refined gentleman, most of the residents are from the lower strata. Whether in speech or behavior, they tend to be more rustic and unpolished. I can't maintain a stiff posture during performances—I simply can't overcome the psychological barrier.' In silent contemplation, Klein allowed his surrounding duplicates to dissolve into slender 'spirit insects,' which then retreated back into his own body. Of course, this isn't the whole picture—there's still another 'Klein' maintaining the current state, ready to take over the shift at the Source Castle." The very next moment, Kline's true form returned to reality, retrieving "The Crawling Hunger" from the historical fissure and donning it. Then, he "transmitted" himself to an island located in the turbulent sea, clearly deviating from the established safe route—a stage he had chosen in advance. ——This place has long been isolated by storms, devoid of human activity, featuring vast forests and wildlife entirely dependent on them. Kline surveyed the area, selected an open space, and placed his right hand against his left chest, praying with devotion: "I hope there will be a city suitable for five thousand people living here." As soon as he finished speaking, Kline raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the open space became remarkably level, and the surrounding forests stepped back significantly, yielding abundant trees, stones, and soil. At the same time, one after another, buildings rose up—stone and wood hybrid structures, no higher than four stories in height, styled in a manner reminiscent of the Dicis Bay in the Kingdom of Ruin. In the span of just a few blinks of the eye, residential houses, libraries, police stations, telegraph offices, municipal councils, small hospitals, fruit factories, waterworks, gas companies, steam train stations, parallel rail lines, and countryside plantations all took shape, and the streets were paved with concrete or stone. Finally, beside the central square of the town, a spire-shaped church rose up from the ground, standing proudly. This was the church of the "Goddess of Night," as befitting the city's established setting. "I hope this island has a deep-water harbor," Klein continued, making his second wish. Tap! He snapped his fingers once more, and his wish was fulfilled. About three kilometers from the town, a modest port rapidly took shape—featuring two piers, five warehouses, a seaside inn, a simple restaurant, a police station, a bar, a lighthouse, and a naval barracks. "我希望港口和城镇有便利的交通," Klein whispered his third wish. He then raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, a concrete road and a freight railway appeared connecting the town to the port. According to Klein's plan, the port section was designed for seafaring visitors, while the town section was intended to serve travelers from the northern and southern continents. Strolling thoughtfully through the empty city, Klein adjusted his hat and stepped directly through to the plaza, walking steadily into the church he had named Saint Alaina. The church's main doors were open, and inside, it was dark. After an indeterminate length of time, three figures appeared at the door: a thirty-something gentleman in a suit with a tie, a woman of ordinary appearance with a gentle demeanor, and a child dressed with the mannerisms of a young adult. The woman took a few hesitant steps, moved her neck slightly, and then smiled, extending both arms to rest against the gentleman's arm. The gentleman smiled softly, allowing the woman to lean slightly against him while extending his right hand to grasp the small boy's. The boy walked with a lively, bouncing gait, full of energy. At first, their movements were stiff and awkward, but as they progressed, they grew increasingly fluid, and time itself flowed quietly through the square. When they had gone, more and more people began to emerge from the church of Saint-Ariane—police officers, mechanics, gas company employees, restaurant chefs, elderly men with white hair, farmers in simple attire… Within the next hour, a steady stream of people kept coming out of the dark church, some turning toward different streets, heading to various destinations and entering different homes, others staying on the square, enjoying the view of a landscape without white doves. The number of people exiting had now surpassed the church's capacity, yet it seemed as though people were still inside, as if the church were connected to another city. Nearly a minute later, the church's entrance finally grew quiet again, though mice, cockroaches, moths, ants, flies, and mosquitoes quietly emerged from other parts of the building. Finally, one of the stained-glass windows high up in the church opened, and a flock of white doves took flight, landing in the center of the square. The people who stayed here came fully to life—some playing with doves, others seeking vendors, some strumming their seven-stringed lyres, others chatting with friends in bright smiles. A man wearing a hat, a windbreaker, a walking cane, and a left-hand revolver walked from the city square to the other side of the town, stopping before a wooden plaque. He then took out his tools and inscribed the name of the town on the plaque: "Yan'an." After a moment's thought, he erased "Yan'an" and wrote a new name: "Utopia."... Beckland, in the grand manor of the Count Holberg. "Alfred has already boarded the passenger ship returning to the Northern Continent?" Audrey could not conceal her delight. It was already September of the year 1352. Over the past several months, Audrey had not needed to exert much effort to persuade her father to abandon his initial intention of returning to East Chester in the first half of the year. This was because cities such as Beckett and Conston were in urgent need of reconstruction, and the royal political landscape required a new equilibrium. The Earl of Hall had numerous pressing matters to attend to and simply lacked the spirit for a vacation. Thus, all that Audrey needed to do was, whenever the Earl was in difficulty, to casually suggest that she would remain in Beckett and return to East Chester in the second half of the year—ensuring the matter unfolded as planned and earning her praise. The Psychological Alchemy Circle had not pressed her either—since then, their Council meetings had convened only three times, primarily focused on sharing research findings and updates from their respective regions. As for the trail of the great dragon of the mind, only Lady Greedy had inquired about it twice. To be honest, if it hadn't been for Mr. The Fool reminding Audrey to pay attention to that "angry" rabbit and the easily-overlooked chairman, she would have definitely found the committee meeting quite interesting, with the rabbit gentleman offering insightful remarks. But now, as always, she remains on her guard. "Yes, the passenger ship has already departed," Lord Hall nodded with a smile. "Once Alfred arrives in Beckland and completes the necessary social engagements, we'll return to East Cheshire to hunt foxes." Autumn is the ideal season for fox hunting. Audrey murmured, "Understood." ………… As a major in the army, Alfred had not followed the naval fleet to Dacey's Bay, but instead had taken his aide-de-camp and staff aboard a steam-sail hybrid passenger ship bound for Prince's Port. After nearly two days at sea, they encountered a violent storm. Amid the ship's violent heaving, the sailors on the lookout deck spotted a glimmer through the telescope—light emanating from a lighthouse. PS1: I provided detailed explanations for the three options yesterday because, personally, I felt the third one was the most compelling—yet, given Xiao Ke's nature, it's simply impossible for him to pursue it. So I had to reluctantly set it aside and specifically write it out for you to see, as it's the approach that carries the most mysterious and elegant charm.