At this moment, Winder felt his calf muscles trembling gently, as if they could no longer support his body's weight. After leaving Utopia, he had anticipated the worst—some sudden, unexplained death, like a sudden collapse without cause. Yet he had never imagined he would encounter people from Utopia within the bustling, real-world metropolis of Beckland. Even more significant, the visitor invited him to return to Utopia. To Winder, this was an utterly terrifying nightmare—staying composed without collapsing was already a sign of strong psychological resilience. With a strained expression, he managed to say, "I've been quite busy lately..." The police officer named Byers immediately replied, "The trial is scheduled two weeks from now—here are the official documents." He handed the files to Winder. Honestly, Winder had no intention of taking them, but he had no choice but to accept. Byers stepped back a pace. "This concerns a woman's future. I sincerely hope you'll be willing to testify." "It depends..." Wendel didn't want to commit, yet he couldn't refuse either. Byers said no more, merely bowed. "I'll be waiting for you in Utopia. I hope we'll have the chance to meet again." With that, he turned and left the house, stepping into the street. Throughout the entire exchange, Wendel felt as though he had been frozen, transformed into a statue, standing there motionless, his eyes never blinking. A few more seconds passed, and then he seemed to finally awaken from his dream, his body growing soft and leaning slightly against the side of the door. Until then, he had been so afraid—afraid that Byers would forcibly bring him to a Utopia that didn't exist at all. Now, Wendel didn't know whether he would still have the chance to leave, or whether he might simply vanish there, forever. Rather than a sudden death, the unpredictable yet clearly unfavorable outcome frightened him more. "Hurry! Hurry! Report this immediately! Seize that policeman from Utopia, uncover the true nature of this strange town, and find a solid solution to resolve the matter once and for all!" After regaining his composure, Wende forcibly rallied his spirits to notify the MI9 officers secretly monitoring him. At this moment, he finally realized the serious flaw in his earlier response—he had failed to seize the opportunity to use the agreed-upon gesture to signal to his colleagues that the visiting policeman was problematic. He hadn't even attempted to delay time, waiting for the monitor to notice the discrepancy on his own. Nor had he drawn upon his experience as an intelligence officer to subtly inquire, without drawing attention, about the inn where Byles was staying in Beckland and the specific train and date of his reservation. Overcome by fear, he had simply defaulted to the most routine, least risky course of action. Thinking of this, Wendel stepped out of the room and glanced toward the direction where Beales had gone, but saw not a single trace of his figure. The police officer from Utopia had blended seamlessly into the stream of carriages and pedestrians. Turning his gaze back, Wendel looked down at the documents in his hands, suddenly feeling uneasy: "What if I don't go to Utopia to testify two weeks from now?" The more he thought about it, the more afraid he became; his legs grew weak once again, and he quickly gestured to his colleagues nearby to indicate his discomfort. Thus, in Hū's understanding, the Utopians should not be wandering off from their homes. Was this part of the ritual's requirements? What were these residents' true identities—followers of the Fool, companions of the World, Germain Spalro? After gaining a general sense of the Utopian visitors, Hū, lacking further information, decided to return to the headquarters of MI9, hesitating whether to dispatch her subordinates to conduct a broader search. She was uncertain whether the World would welcome such actions and feared they might disrupt the ritual. After pacing back and forth in the office, Hū prepared to pray to the Fool, asking that the latter convey her questions to Germain Spalro. As she approached the chair, her gaze swept over the report resting on the table. That was the investigation report prepared by her two subordinates—one confirming that all passengers who had arrived smoothly in Beckett were in good health, and the other noting that one passenger had remained in Utopia. Passenger… Hux’s gaze grew focused, and by instinct, he formed a hunch: the Utopian resident who had come to Beckett had a specific purpose, not merely wandering aimlessly. His purpose likely connected to one of the passengers who had previously left Utopia. That… Hux was startled, and quickly sat down, beginning to pray. At that moment, the door to her office was knocked. “Please, come in.” Hux hesitated and said. As the door opened, Hux saw Lock, with a full beard like that of a sheep, and Winder, a firsthand witness to the Utopia incident. “Colonel,” Lock said, his words a bit disordered, “Winder met someone from Utopia—someone who came directly to visit him!” This development, too, had come as a surprise to him. Indeed... Wendel not only didn't seem surprised, but subtly exhaled a sigh of relief. She turned to him and asked, "Why did he come to see you?" "He asked me to testify at Utopia regarding the case of Tricia's murder, as mentioned in my report." Compared to before, Wendel had clearly regained his composure. He then added, "He's a police officer named Byers. I didn't dare ask him where he lives, when he plans to leave, or which steam train he intends to take." "To show his importance, Hux stood up and thought for a moment before saying, "Lock, immediately gather your team members and locate the rental carriage driver who frequently waits near Wendel's residence, as well as the public carriage driver who passes through the area. Ask them whether they've seen Byers—if so, where did they take him—and send someone to the steam train station to stand at the entrance and observe the passengers coming and going..." After giving these instructions to his subordinates, Hux turned to Wendel and said, "You'll assist them by describing Byers' appearance." "Yes, Colonel," both Lock and Wendel responded at the same time. Once they had left and the door was closed, Hux sat back down and began praying. Soon, she received a response from the "Knight of the Fool," seeing the "World" Germain Sparo praying in the gray mist. Germain Sparo told her, "The investigation can proceed normally." "We can propose the ritual hypothesis when necessary, but only as one of several possibilities." At ease now, Houghton patiently awaited updates from his subordinates. When night fell, Lock returned to Belotto Street to report to Houghton: "We've found the cab driver who was transporting the Utopian!" "Hmm?" Houghton showed clear interest. Lock briefly explained: "The Utopian named Byers originally instructed the driver to proceed to the dock area. But as soon as the carriage entered that zone, he asked to alight, claiming he had arrived. The street was unfamiliar to the driver, giving him a sense of being lost. When they left that street, however, he found the surroundings suddenly familiar. We accompanied him again to the same location, but he simply couldn't locate that street." Houghton nodded slightly, speaking with a serious tone: "This aligns preliminarily with the descriptions of entry and exit from Utopia in previous cases." "Major, you're saying we can enter or exit Utopia from any street in any city?" Locke was still a bit hard to believe. After a moment's pause, Hew said, "It seems to be true so far, but I still feel something's off—um, how exactly does Utopia connect with different locations? How is it positioned?" As his voice softened, Hew turned to Locke and said, "Go tell Winder that he'll be staying here for the next two weeks, until the document expires." "Yes, sir," Locke replied immediately and then turned to leave Hew's office. Winder had no objections to Major Dillchah's arrangements—indeed, he could only truly feel secure at the headquarters of Military Intelligence Nine. His temporary quarters were a slightly renovated guard room, with a view of the lawn, gardens, and trees outside through the windows. At a glance, Wendel spotted a black raven standing on a branch, quietly gazing this way. ........ The night in Bansi was unusually eerie, with the calls of crows or other seabirds echoing intermittently. Veldu stood by the window, watching the increasingly near, crumbling wharf and the silent, abandoned city that had fallen into ruin, his growing sense of pressure mounting. After several days at sea, his vessel was approaching the port of Bansi. The captain had already informed Veldu during the day that they would wait only for two hours; beyond that time, Veldu would have to remain on this deserted island, waiting for the next ship that might arrive at any moment. Taking a deep breath, Veldu turned away, removed his coat, and then opened his suitcase, pulling out a classical black robe, which he donned. The robe was embroidered with gold and silver threads and set with various gemstones the size of rice grains—family seals belonging to the Abraham lineage. After making preparations, Verdurad left the pirate ship and entered the port of Bensy. Along the way, the classical robe occasionally tightened, constricting until his face turned purple and he nearly fainted. As he walked, Verdurad followed the map he had purchased and eventually reached the original location of the Bensy telegraph office. On the open space in the center of the collapsed building, he noticed two vivid crimson streaks—seeming as though two people had been pressed into paste. Beside these traces, on a broken wall, a monstrous cephalopod figure was drawn and carved: armored, with waves beneath its feet and a trident in hand. Verdurad raised his lantern to examine it closely when suddenly a drop of cool liquid landed on his neck. Startled, he instinctively reached out and felt the sticky texture—unlike rain, and colorless, not blood. It resembled saliva. Verdurad’s brow slightly furrowed, and slowly lifted his gaze toward where the drop had fallen. It was a deep black sky, neither moon nor stars.