The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

"I know. I heard he died a horrible death. It was murder. The old man was roasted to a crisp. It's like getting rid of a useless pest for the city, saving him from wandering around the streets all day and getting in the way."

After saying that, the two patrolmen burst into laughter in unison. Their laughter contained no sympathy, only a cruel indifference, as if they were just discussing a joke for people to amuse themselves over tea.

Fragments of the conversation drifted into Morian's ears on a gentle breeze, like a pebble thrown into calm water, creating a violent ripple.

...Dead?

Old Brown? That down-on-his-luck, alcoholic vagrant who had provided him with intelligence?

Morian's pupils dilated instantly, and he stood frozen in disbelief.

But...why? Because I asked him about the Blissful Secret Society? No, how did the culprit know about this? There were indeed only the two of us at the scene, and we weren't being followed.

In a moment of shock and self-doubt, a reasonable guess gradually emerged in his mind.

Medium divination!

The other party may have used the fortune teller's ability to trace back to the brief contact in the back alley that night.

The night they infiltrated had cost them dearly, so they were willing to use any resources to trace the source of the intelligence leak.

Damn!

It was my carelessness; I overlooked the hidden abilities within the extraordinary world.

It was me who ruined old Brown.

It's all because of me...

The afternoon sun was still bright, and the sound of the pastor preaching could be faintly heard in the garden, but all the sights and sounds suddenly became blurry and distant, with only the words "dead" and "pest control" echoing sharply in my mind.

Honestly, I didn't know Old Brown well, and we had only met for a few minutes. We didn't have a particularly good relationship.

But it was precisely because of those few minutes that he became the target of the Blissful Secret Society's venting, ultimately leading to his tragic death in the streets of Bet City.

Thinking of this, Morian's body swayed involuntarily, an indescribable sense of guilt welled up in his heart, and he almost stumbled and fell in the street.

He stood there for a while before slowly raising his drooping head. The hand that had been gripping the bag of alchemy materials tightened its grip even more.

With a soft "pfft," a laugh filled with self-mockery and cold anger, Morian's tightly pursed lips curved into a smile.

Without lingering too long, he continued walking forward until he returned to the office, closed the door, and leaned against the door. Only then did Morian stop hiding his icy gaze.

Only then did he truly realize that once he became involved in such an event, even if he didn't actively investigate, the other party would still track him down and eliminate all threats in order to achieve their goal.

In just a few days, another innocent victim has emerged.

Since that's the case, I might as well take the initiative and hunt down these scumbags.

Having made up his mind, the last trace of hesitation in Morian's eyes disappeared. He quickly put away all the purchased items and, without lingering, stepped out of the agency's door again.

In less than ten minutes, he arrived at the best and most expensive spiritual medium shop in the area.

The storefront of the psychic shop was decorated with a deep purple curtain and star and moon symbols, making it appear even more mysterious.

"Arrange the best divination service for me." He pushed open the shop door, his tone without the slightest hesitation, and looked directly into the inner room, past the apprentices who were greeting customers in the front hall.

The curtain deep inside the medium's shop was lifted by a hand adorned with several rings, and an old woman with thick, curly hair and dark skin slowly emerged.

Her gaze fell on the young man in front of her, who was breathing rapidly, and she looked him up and down.

"Do you need a divination service?"

“Yes,” Morian said sincerely, looking directly into the other’s eyes, “and what I need is your ‘tracing back’.”

Upon hearing this, the old woman, who had been calm, raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised that this seemingly ordinary young man not only knew about that kind of secret divination, but also spoke about it so frankly.

However, since the other party has already made it clear, there is no need for me to pretend to be stupid and hide it. Being honest can actually make me a lot of money.

"That's very expensive." A playful smile appeared on her face.

"I don't care." Morian's face also broke into a bright smile.

After saying that, he took out his wallet from his pocket and gently placed it on the round table covered with dark velvet.

The old woman sighed softly, whether out of a sense of pity for the young man's stubbornness or something else, and then gestured for Morian to sit down in the chair in front of her.

After sitting down opposite her, she took out a crystal ball as deep as the starry sky from under the table, and then used a short pen that emitted a special sandalwood scent to carve three intricate and unknown patterns on the parchment.

"Close your eyes, say what you need to trace back, and then place your hands on this crystal." The old woman's voice became ethereal.

"Don't resist, I will guide you safely to the answer you seek."

Following the guidance of the professional fortune teller, Morian slowly closed his eyes, silently reciting in his mind, "Recreate the scene of Old Brown's death and the identity of the Joker," and then stretched out his hands and firmly pressed them on the surface of the crystal ball.

At first, there was only pure darkness.

But soon, in this void of consciousness, he began to see a series of almost illusory, indistinct fragments playing before his eyes. Although these fragments were not clear, he could still make out their general content.

Under the night sky of Bet City, a man dressed in a comical clown costume approached a homeless man step by step, like a fierce predator leisurely watching its prey make its final struggle, or like an actor preparing to step onto the stage.

He wasn't in a hurry to make a move, which must have stemmed from his absolute confidence in his own strength. He was confident that no matter how many chances he gave the old man in front of him, no matter how much he struggled, he was destined to die.

"Interesting, even divination couldn't make out the insect's appearance." The clown in the clip suddenly spoke, as if delivering a final verdict, "I'll give you a chance to confess who demanded the information that night."

Old Brown, who already had several burns on his body, did not answer. Instead, he spat out bloody saliva in the direction of the clown with a disdainful "Pah!"

The intense heat burned his throat and esophagus, and in excruciating pain, he could only express his contempt in this most primitive way.

The saliva evaporated into a wisp of steam the moment it hit the ground.

Seemingly realizing that his body was about to give out, old Brown pulled out his old companion, a vintage-style dagger, from his pocket.

The roar echoed throughout the dark alley.

In the scene, old Brown's bulky and clumsy body suddenly displays astonishing explosive power, crashing into the clown in costume like a missile, a strength completely unlike that of an old man waiting to die.

Morian asked himself if he himself would be intimidated by such a lion-like, desperate aura, even if he were on the other side.

But the clown in the picture just let out a sneer, and with a wave of his hand, the flames instantly engulfed the lion.

The final scene takes place in a theater, where a clown in a comical costume slowly removes his heavy makeup, revealing half of his profile in a mirror.

The scene of the tracing ends here, and when you open your eyes again, you are undoubtedly in front of the dark candlelight of the medium's shop.

Goodnight, Mr. Brown, you absolutely lived up to the title "Lightning"...

Morian remained silent for a moment, said nothing, and then took out a wad of cash, preparing to pay and leave.

As I turned to leave, a solemn voice, lacking its usual professional composure, sounded behind me.

"etc."

Watching his retreating figure, the old woman's eyes held a complex mix of emotions, a mixture of helplessness and warning.

"Are you sure you want to go? I advise you to stay out of it, that clown..."

"He is Lv2."

Lv2?

Does this refer to the second stage of "Ascended"? But so what?

"Of course." Morian didn't turn around, but waved his hand and simply stated his decision, "Some things, once you know them, you have to do them."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He raised his hand, lifted the deep purple curtain, and stepped into the still bright sunlight outside.