75: Chapter 13 Preparation

The long-vacated jiaowei Sealed Artifact box had all its sealing runes torn off the surface, flattened, folded, and neatly tucked into the bottom layer of his suitcase.

The empty box itself held little value, but the fine, miniature heat-insulating runes engraved on the shell remained intact, making it a reusable Beyonder material that didn't need to be wasted.

The remaining fine fragments of the snake emblem were sealed in a dedicated lead evidence bag and hidden deep within the lining of his suitcase, isolating all leakage of spirituality and external detection.

Inside his close-fitting waist pouch, the fragment of the worm of time pulsed gently according to a constant rhythm, the tiny crack on the edge steadily fixed without any sign of expansion.

Since setting foot in Backlund, the Fate Anchor had consistently maintained an extremely low-frequency operating state, like a guitar string pressed to its lowest register—silent, forbearing, silently providing a safety net, and quietly resisting the lurking disturbances of fate and unknown prying eyes.

Lu Li sat quietly on the edge of the bed, focusing his mind inward to review his spiritual circuits and state changes one by one.

The characteristics of the Sequence 9 Apprentice Pathway that had been completely stripped from his spiritual circuits were now fully ineffective.

His former talents, such as spatial perception and Lock Picking, had all been reduced to zero, completely cutting ties with this low-sequence Pathway.

Fortunately, the core ability of his main Pathway, the Sequence 7: Swindler, remained completely unaffected and as stable as ever.

Even though the fire of the jiaowei Sealed Artifact had completely escaped his control and been fully retrieved, the experience of flame manipulation he had accumulated during his Prometheus stage remained deep in his heart.

It was just that after losing the support of the Sealed Artifact, the explosive intensity and temperature limit of the flames had fallen back, losing their earth-shattering power, yet they were still sufficient to support daily combat and emergency defense; his foundation for actual combat remained.

Although his overall strength had adjusted slightly, standing at the Sequence 7 level was still secure enough to contend with enemies.

After thoroughly confirming that his state was safe and all hidden dangers were removed, Lu Li raised his hand to take out the copper compass gifted by Old Eye, focusing his mind to calibrate the direction.

The copper needle of the compass trembled slightly, shifting toward the direction of the new stronghold of the Aurora Order.

The degree of deflection was not drastic, but it was more stable and clearer than it had been several days ago.

This was the most intuitive omen—the ritual array hidden by the other party in the dark was rapidly overlapping and taking shape, with progress faster each day.

The core main force of the Aurora Order was still entrenched on the black sail ship at Storm Cape, but the dark pieces they had laid out in downtown Backlund were far more than just one.

With Abraham tracking and investigating along the freshwater suppliers and dock cargo routes for days, he finally locked onto the approximate location of one of the secret strongholds: the basement of a long-abandoned Textile Factory at the junction of the River Bay District and the East Borough.

Lu Li put away the compass, carefully locked the doors and windows, and after confirming that there were no oversights in the room, he walked downstairs and strolled toward Water Pump Street.

...

At the same moment, at 15 Mingde Street, Sherlock Moriarty's private detective agency.

The cramped room welcomed its third client of the day.

The visitor was a middle-level manager from a Dock District shipping company. His suit was worn and faded to white, with the edges polished shiny, and his fingertips were permanently stained with faint ink marks that would not wash off—traces left from years of hunching over a desk recording shipping archives.

His expression was tense, and his tone carried unconcealable suspicion and unease:

"Our company has several inland cargo ships. Last week, one of our cargo ships passed by the coast of Storm Cape. The captain saw a strange black sail ship with his own eyes outside the reef area."

"The ship's sails were a dull dark red, and it lingered in the reef waters for a long time, refusing to leave. The captain noticed the abnormality and recorded this strange event truthfully in the navigation log. But the very next day after the log was archived, the cabinet storing the files was pried open, and that page of records was completely stolen."

He gave a helpless, bitter smile: "I didn't call the police. Ordinary policemen would just treat it as nonsense; no one would believe the absurd rumors of a ghost ship. But I must find out who stole the log and for what purpose."

Sherlock listened calmly to the ins and outs and accepted the commission, with a reward of five shillings, half of which was collected in advance.

He lowered his head, held his fountain pen, and quickly jotted down the key clues in his notebook: Storm Cape waters, dark red sails, theft of the navigation log, very high probability of an internal job.

After finishing writing, he put on his top hat, pushed open the door, and left, heading straight to the Dock District to conduct an investigation.

The investigation proceeded exceptionally smoothly.

In a small, smoke-filled tavern on the edge of the dock, a one-armed old Sailor heard his inquiry, put down the wine glass in his hand, lowered his voice, and revealed a secret piece of information:

"In that sea area of Storm Cape, there has indeed been such a black sail ship drifting for nearly a month. The sails are dark red, and the ship's speed is bizarrely extreme; it can speed along even without wind. That strange ship has been guarding the outside of the reef, not like it's passing through or anchored, but rather like... it's quietly waiting for something."

The old Sailor scanned his surroundings to ensure no one was paying attention, then lowered his voice again to add a crucial detail:

"The night the ghost ship appeared at the Old Wharf, I saw a figure walk down from the pier with my own eyes. That person was carrying a wooden box on his back, and on the box, it was clearly printed with the exclusive sealing rune of the Nighthawks. I've never mentioned this to anyone, fearing it would bring a fatal disaster. You're a private detective; if you have the ability, go investigate it yourself."

Sherlock understood, keeping this testimony firmly in his heart.

He had once stayed in the Tingen Nighthawks team and had seen the sealed tools kept by Old Neil with his own eyes.

He was familiar with the specifications of the Nighthawks sealing runes—the rune of a Grade 3 Sealed Artifact was about the size of a palm, with a copper base, engraved with complex miniature runes, and had extremely high recognizability.

The scene of Old Neil opening the safe in the Potion Room and taking out the jiaowei Sealed Artifact box was still fresh in his memory.

Combining all the clues, the identity of the mysterious person who appeared on the pier late at night carrying the sealed wooden box was already obvious.

...

River Bay District, basement of the abandoned Textile Factory.

In the dark and damp underground space, two figures of Aurora Order believers were busy unloading cargo, moving the last batch of ritual equipment from the carriage to the ground.

In the corner, thirty or forty solid wood boxes were piled densely. On the surface of the boxes, the exclusive mark of the Storm Cape port was clearly printed, indicating the origin of this batch of supplies.

On the ground, a brand-new twelve-pointed star array had already been outlined.

The scale of the formation far exceeded that of the one in the abandoned warehouse in the River Bay District; it was magnificent and evil, only the copper incense burner in the center of the array was empty, not yet ignited with the sacrificial fire.

Beside the array stood a figure draped in a dark cloak.

The heavy hood obscured most of his face, revealing only a pair of eyes filled with scarlet bloodshot lines, with paranoia and madness churning in the depths of his eyes.

He gripped a dark green crystal fragment in his palm; inside the fragment flowed a faint fluorescence, pulsing slowly to a bizarre rhythm, emitting a faint evil aura.

"Only three spare runes remain."

His voice was hoarse and low, carrying an indisputable sternness as it echoed in the empty basement:

"On the night of the full moon, the Storm Cape main ship will dock on time to deliver the final batch of sacrifices. Before then, everyone must behave themselves and not make any more mistakes that would ruin the big picture."

The two believers lowered their heads in response, not daring to be even slightly slack, and continued to bury themselves in organizing and stacking the ritual supplies.

A moment later, the carriage finished unloading, kicked up dust, and drove away, disappearing completely into the depths of the back alley of the Textile Factory.

On top of a pile of waste bricks, a lurking wild cat quietly got up, landed lightly, and followed the dark wall base, silently darting toward the East Borough.

Under the fur on the back of the cat's neck, a tracking rune as thin as a cicada's wing, almost impossible to detect, was attached.

By the window of the East Borough apartment, Lu Li withdrew his gaze from the distance.

He integrated and archived all the dynamics transmitted back by the tracking rune, accurately marked the location of the Textile Factory stronghold on the map he carried with him, and all the lurking dark spots became clear one by one.

After finishing the intelligence update, he calmed his mind and continued his day-to-day practice of Swindler abilities, polishing his core skill of information theft, steadily improving, and waiting quietly for the decisive battle.

...

The next evening, twilight stained the entire city of Backlund.

Lu Li went to the underground market to replenish his reserves of holy water, various charms, and refining materials.

On his way back, he deliberately took a detour and came to Warehouse No. 4 where Old Kohler worked.

Under the sunset glow, Old Kohler was squatting on the stone steps at the entrance of the warehouse, gnawing on coarse wheat bread in the evening wind.

Seeing Lu Li walking over, he took the initiative to move aside to make room for a clean step.

"A few days ago, was that detective who came to the dock to ask around your friend?" Old Kohler asked first.

"We are acquaintances." Lu Li replied indifferently.

"That person asked me a lot about the missing persons at the dock."

Old Kohler swallowed the bread in his mouth, his tone simple and honest, "Those who went missing were all loners, drifters, and single laborers. They had no relatives or friends and lived alone. No one paid attention to their tracks. I really didn't know anything, but I told him about a strange thing."

"Last month, there was a drifter named Old John who rented a shed next to mine. He lived there for several weeks and then disappeared inexplicably. His room was empty, leaving only a torn boat ticket."

Lu Li's eyes narrowed slightly, and he instantly deduced the cause and effect clearly in his mind.

That was the exclusive boat ticket for the ghost ship.

Old John must have accidentally picked up a ghost ship ticket that had been washed ashore by the tides of the Spirit World and was already ineffective, but it was misjudged by the Aurora Order believers who were secretly investigating.

They mistook him for someone who held a token and knew the secrets, and he was eventually abducted.

He kept this speculation silently in his heart without speaking it out.

Old Kohler patted the crumbs from his palms, with expectations for the future hidden in his eyes, and said softly: "The pay for the night shift at the dock has been a bit higher recently. I'll save up for a while longer, and then I'll take the girl out of the shanty town shed and rent a small single room near the church. It's safe and quiet there, suitable for her to live a good life."

After speaking, he turned and walked into the dim Warehouse No. 4, his back simple and resilient.

Lu Li watched him leave quietly, then got up and stepped onto the rusty iron stairs, walking up step by step into the heavy twilight of the East Borough.

The time of the full moon was getting closer, and all preparations for battle had entered the final finishing stage.

The notebook was densely filled with combed intelligence, deduced data, and listed to-do items, all clear and logical.

But what truly made Lu Li feel secure and unafraid of the turmoil in the situation was never the cold text on paper.

It was that through layers of investigation, integration, and deduction, he had long seen through the hidden layout of the Aurora Order and figured out the ambition and purpose behind every move of the opponent.

The enemy was in the dark, but he was clear about every step.

In this secret game on the eve of the full moon, he was always one step ahead of his opponent, firmly controlling the initiative of the situation, waiting quietly for the final outcome to arrive.