Lin Jie followed Marcus, stumbling along the dark passage deep within the cave.

The rock walls on both sides bore clear signs of artificial excavation—underground tunnels dug by eighteenth-century smugglers to evade Royal Navy customs ships. Rusty iron rings, once used to tether pack mules, could be seen in the corners.

William walked at the rear of the group.

The old soldier's finger remained on the trigger, his eyes scanning every shadow that could hide a person.

"Relax, old friend," Marcus said without turning his head.

"If I wanted to capture you, I would have acted back on the mudflats."

"You know my temper. I don't like playing dirty tricks behind someone's back, even when dealing with traitors."

"We are not traitors."

Lin Jie's voice was calm.

He looked at Marcus's broad back. The dark gray trench coat was splattered with mud, clearly indicating the burly man had been waiting here for quite some time.

"I know."

Marcus stopped walking.

He turned around and raised the stormproof kerosene lamp in his hand.

The dim yellow light illuminated a heavy oak door ahead, secured by a rusted iron lock.

"If I believed the nonsense on that wanted notice, I'd be drinking stout in the bar of the Underground City right now, not freezing my ass off in this damn rat hole."

Marcus pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock.

A wave of warm, dry air rushed out, carrying the smell of burning smokeless coal and a faint hint of tobacco.

This was a typical smuggler's hideout.

The room was not large, expanded from an original mining pit.

The surrounding walls were reinforced with wooden planks, and thick wool carpets covered the floor. In the corner were several crates marked "East India Company." A robust fire burned in the center of the room, with a copper kettle steaming above it.

"Go in."

Marcus stepped aside, making an inviting gesture.

"This place is safe."

"At least for the next twelve hours, Ackerman's hounds won't catch the scent here."

Lin Jie entered the room, took off his still-dripping trench coat, and hung it on a rack beside the fireplace.

Evelyn and Julian also entered. They both looked rather disheveled; the long sea voyage and the recent landing had drained much of their stamina.

Marcus took several tin mugs from a cabinet in the corner, filled them with hot coffee, and roughly shoved one into each person's hands.

"Have something to drink."

He sat down in an old armchair beside the fireplace.

Marcus didn't immediately get down to business. First, he took out a thick cigar, lit it with the charcoal fire, took a deep drag, let the pungent smoke swirl in his mouth, and then slowly exhaled.

That motion carried deep exhaustion.

"London has changed, Lin Jie."

Marcus stared at the flickering flames, his gaze somewhat distant.

"Since Sir Henderson fell, those hawks have been like vultures smelling carrion."

"They've taken over the Underground City."

"Most of the archives have been sealed, all missions are being reevaluated, and every investigator has to undergo that damn 'loyalty test.'"

"That's a purge."

Lin Jie held the hot coffee, feeling the warmth spread from his fingertips through his body.

"They're purging dissidents. Yes, purging."

Marcus sneered.

"They call it 'purity maintenance.'"

"The Association now is not what it was when we first joined."

"Before, we fought to protect. Now... many fight to kill."

He looked up, his gaze falling on Lin Jie.

"Do you know why Barton isn't here?"

"He's under surveillance?" Lin Jie asked.

"Worse than that."

Marcus flicked the cigar ash.

"Three days ago, those Gardeners from the Internal Investigation Division brought a list to Barton."

"It was an execution order for this round of 'traitors.'"

"Your name was at the top, right at the very peak in red font."

"According to procedure, as your direct superior in the London Branch and your sponsor, Barton needed to sign that document, confirming the 'facts of your corruption' and authorizing the pursuit and kill operation."

The atmosphere in the room froze. William's hand tightened around his mug.

They all knew the I.A.R.C.'s bureaucratic procedures.

That signature wasn't just a formality. It meant a complete severance of stance, meaning Barton would have to personally push Lin Jie into the abyss.

"Did he sign?"

Julian couldn't help but ask.

"If he had, I'd be chopping your heads off with an axe right now, not pouring you coffee."

Marcus grinned, showing a not-so-pleasant smile.

"That tall-hatted fellow usually looks like an emotionless machine, obsessed with rules and order."

"But in that conference room, facing three Inspectors holding manacles..."

"He tore up that document. Right in front of the person in charge, tore it to shreds."

Marcus's voice held barely concealed respect.

"He said, 'I only sign investigation reports with a closed chain of evidence. I will never sign a murder order based on political conjecture.'"

"And then he was suspended."

"He's now under house arrest in his Kensington apartment, with at least three teams of Gardeners watching him in twenty-four-hour shifts."

Lin Jie fell silent.

He could picture the scene.

Barton Chris.

That always impeccably dressed British gentleman in his three-piece suit.

That manager who was full of suspicion at their first meeting but gave his utmost support after confirming Lin Jie's value.

He had gambled his career, even his life, for his principles.

"Then our current situation..."

Evelyn looked worriedly toward the door.

"If Mr. Barton is already under control, then your action this time..."

"I'm a rough man."

Marcus waved his hand, cutting off Evelyn.

"The big shots look down on me, think I'm just an obedient thug."

"Besides, the Association isn't a monolith of just the hawk faction."

Marcus stood up, walked over to the pile of crates, and forcefully pried open the lid of one.

Inside was a complete set of precise tactical maps, an encrypted radio, and some supplies.

"Although Sir Henderson has fallen, the foundation he built in Europe over decades remains."

"And Mr. Morgan in North America."

"Those who don't want to see the Association become a mere killing machine are secretly forming an alliance."

"They've planned a counter-operation codenamed 'Operation Scales.'"

Marcus took out a map and spread it on the table.

It was a detailed topographic map of Cornwall.

"To stop Ackerman and the Council's madness, we need a fulcrum."

"A fulcrum heavy enough, ancient enough, and holding the core legal authority."

Marcus's finger pressed heavily on a spot on the map.

Tintagel.

"Merlin."

Lin Jie spoke the name.

"Yes, Merlin."

Marcus nodded.

"Or the Oak Sage, call him whatever."

"He is the last elder of the Round Table Knights, the 'ancestor' in the Association's legal framework."

"If we can gain his support, the moderates can legally challenge the hawks' legitimacy."

"But, the Association's regular forces cannot move."

"During this sensitive period, any mobilization from a branch would be seen as a signal for civil war."

"So, we need a variable."

"An 'outsider' not part of any branch's roster, with independent operational capability, sufficient strength, and trustworthy."

Marcus looked at Lin Jie.

"That's you, Lin."

"You're a free hunter."

"Your file is in London, but you never truly swore allegiance to any branch."

"And..."

Marcus paused, his gaze sweeping over the [Silencer] at Lin Jie's waist and those seemingly ordinary yet dangerous boots.

"Your strength has far surpassed that of a rookie."

"Although the hawks have been deliberately downplaying your mission ratings to hide your growth."

"In our circles of frontline hunters, your evaluation reports have been circulating like crazy."

"Independently hunting multiple Town-class UMAs."

"Directly defeating a Guardian of the Black Lotus Sect."

"Emerging unscathed from a place like the Aether Tower."

"If not for that damn wanted notice, you'd be ranked at least in the top hundred of the Record of Elite Investigators by now."

"Who would have thought that two years ago you were still a rookie whose hands shook when firing a gun."

Marcus's voice was sincere and serious.

"You are the only piece on this chessboard that can jump outside the rules."

"So, we've staked everything to get you into Tintagel."

Lin Jie looked at the location marked with a red circle on the map.

It was less than thirty kilometers from their current hideout.

But those thirty kilometers were likely already littered with mines and traps by Ackerman's forces.

"I understand."

Lin Jie nodded.

"This isn't just about saving ourselves."

"It's also about finding a way out for those still holding onto principles."

He looked up at Marcus.

"One more personal question."

"How is Lily?"

This question was unrelated to the grand narrative but was vitally important to Lin Jie.

That little girl with special talent was a kind of emotional anchor for him in this era.

Marcus's expression grew complicated.

He sighed and pulled a crumpled photo from his pocket.

He had secretly taken it before leaving London.

The photo showed a red-brick house in Richmond, curtains drawn, with two men in trench coats standing at the door.

They were the Association's surveillance sentries.

"She's alive."

Marcus said quietly.

"But not well. Soon after you left, her synesthetic ability seemed to spiral out of control."

"The plants around her house started growing wildly, even blooming in winter."

"That kind of spiritual fluctuation was too obvious, impossible to hide."

"The Association noticed her."

"Although that old cop Arthur is tough, guarding the door with a shotgun, not letting anyone in."

"They've sealed off the house under the pretext of 'medical observation' and 'quarantine.'"

"They haven't moved to take her yet, probably because Ackerman's focus is entirely on Merlin right now."

"But if the Merlin situation is resolved..."

Marcus didn't continue.

But everyone present understood what that meant.

For the hawks, the best way to handle an uncontrollable "vessel" like Lily, tainted by ancient gods, was "containment."

Lin Jie's eyes turned cold.

His fingers lightly tapped the tabletop, producing a rhythmic sound.

"It seems we have one more reason."

Just then, a very peculiar bird call came from outside the door.

It was a simulated sound from some kind of mechanical device.

Marcus's expression sharpened.

He quickly stood up, grabbed his shotgun, and simultaneously extinguished his cigar.

"Someone's coming."

William instantly raised his gun, aiming at the oak door.

But Lin Jie waved his hand, signaling everyone to relax.

His keen perception had caught a faint, familiar presence.

"Let him in."

Lin Jie said.

Marcus walked to the door and gently slid back the bolt.

A figure in a black double-breasted trench coat, wearing a top hat and holding a walking cane, entered.

His trouser cuffs bore little mud, despite the terrible conditions outside.

Barton Chris.

The man who should have been under house arrest in a London apartment had miraculously appeared in this underground cave in Cornwall.

"Good evening, everyone."

Barton removed his hat and gave a slight bow, his movements still impeccably precise.

But Lin Jie noticed his complexion.

Pale.

Extremely pale.

The sign of severe weakness after expending a large amount of Spiritual Force.

"How did you get out?"

Marcus looked at him in surprise.

"What about the Gardeners watching you?"

"They are still watching."

Barton said calmly, taking a pocket watch from his trench coat and glancing at it.

"They think they are still watching."

"I created a blind spot in their senses."

"In their perception, I am currently sitting by the fireplace in my apartment, reading a book."

"But this won't last long."

"I only have two hours."

Barton walked to the table.

He directly pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the table.

It was a roll of black tape, looking like ordinary industrial tape used for patching pipes or insulating wires.

But the surface of this tape had no reflection. It was a deep, profound black, pure black.

Like a strip of shadow cut from the night sky.

This was Barton Chris's Grotesque Armament—[Librarian's Seal].

"Let's be brief."

Barton looked at Lin Jie, his eyes showing only businesslike severity.

"Ackerman has set out."

"The special train he's on, the 'Judgment,' will arrive in Cornwall tomorrow morning."

"He's not just bringing the elite of the Inspector Squad. He's also bringing three Kingdom-class sealed artifacts retrieved from the Geneva Headquarters arsenal."

"He's coming to wage war."

"If Merlin refuses to cooperate, he will wipe the entire Tintagel area off the map."

Lin Jie looked at the roll of black tape.

He could feel the unique power emanating from it.

Seal.

Restrain.

Negate.

"What do you want us to do?" Lin Jie asked.

"Get there before him."

Barton's voice remained calm.

"Merlin is hiding in a crevice somewhere in Tintagel. That entrance is protected by an ancient Celtic formation."

"Ackerman will use brute force to break the formation. That will cause spatial collapse, burying everyone."

"But you are different."

Barton pointed to Lin Jie's pocket, the location of the Round Table insignia.

"You have the key."

"You must infiltrate, find Merlin, before the main force launches its assault."

"Or, take him away."

"That's difficult." Lin Jie shook his head.

"If Ackerman is bringing a large force, he'll definitely seal off the perimeter."

"We might not even be able to get close."

"That's why I'm here."

Barton picked up the roll of black tape. He suddenly turned and walked to a corner of the room.

There was a small ventilation window there, boarded up but still allowing the sound of wind and rain outside to be heard.

Barton tore off a piece of tape and stuck it over a crack in the window.

The action was simple.

Even somewhat casual.

But the moment the tape was applied, an extremely bizarre phenomenon occurred.

The sound vanished.

Not diminished.

Completely vanished.

The sound of wind, rain, even the distant crashing of waves against rocks coming through that crack was completely severed at that moment.

That corner became a zone of absolute silence.

William instinctively opened his mouth to say something, but found he couldn't produce any sound.

No.

He *did* make a sound, but the sound was "seized" during transmission.

"Sensory seizure."

Barton turned around. His voice remained clear because he hadn't sealed his own vocal area.

"I can use this seal to seal one sense of any area or any object."

"Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste."

"Of course, spiritual perception as well."

Barton walked up to Lin Jie.

"While you infiltrate Tintagel, I will provide peripheral cover."

"I will use this seal to seize all detection methods Ackerman has deployed around the castle."

"I will make his sentries blind."

"Make his hounds useless, without noses."

"Make his listening devices scrap metal."

"But this has a cost."

Barton's face grew even paler. Cold sweat beaded at his temples.

"Maintaining this conceptual seal consumes immense mental energy."

"I can only hold it for half an hour at most."

"And, if Ackerman himself intervenes, my seal will fail."

"Because he's a monster."

A flash of deep apprehension appeared in Barton's eyes.

"He may not be on that so-called Hunter Ranking, but if a ranking were truly made..."

"His strength would definitely be within the current top fifty. He is a man who has turned himself into a 'weapon.'"

"Do not attempt to fight him head-on. Remember, do not attempt to fight him head-on."

Barton repeated, which was very rare for his usually terse self.

"If you encounter him."

"Run."

"Run using every means possible."

Lin Jie looked at Barton.

He saw determination in this man's eyes, a resolve to act despite knowing the odds.

"I'll remember."

Lin Jie reached out and shook Barton's hand.

"We'll bring Merlin out."

Barton didn't respond to this promise.

He nodded, then put his top hat back on and straightened his collar.

"Time is short. I must return before the illusion fails."

"Good luck, hunters."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

The black-clad figure quickly disappeared into the dark depths of the tunnel.