I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The psychic communication was scheduled to take place in the basement of the branch office, in Old Big's autopsy room.

Now, this autopsy room is without an owner.

When Richard pushed open the door, the stainless steel table was empty.

The ever-burning lamp above the platform is still lit.

Mrs. McNeil placed the thirteen anchor bodies one by one on the iron platform.

A broken lantern, a green pottery jar, a weighing stone tablet, an ebony box, a bronze paperweight, black rosary beads, an Amit statue, an ebony mirror, a pottery whistle, linen with gold thread, a small bronze balance scale, a silent fern gizzard...

And there's that clay tablet, inscribed with the general outline of the "replacement" ceremony.

A total of thirteen items.

They were arranged in a crescent shape along the iron platform.

This was Richard's idea, even though Mr. Reeve was completely wiped out.

But all of these things are Mr. Reeve's "ledger" for running that network over the past twelve years.

Its traces are scattered throughout these thirteen items.

Mrs. Mary will definitely find it useful if it's placed here.

"It's all set up," Mrs. McNeil said.

"The teacher will be here soon."

Richard retreated to a corner of the autopsy room, leaning against the wall.

He didn't dare get too close.

Time passed, little by little.

The light in the autopsy room never goes out, shining steadily.

Just then, a soft sound came from outside the thick wooden door of the autopsy room.

It was the sound of a cat's paws scratching at the door.

The cat avatar tried its best to tighten its ethereal barrier, striving not to disturb its surroundings.

The tighter it was, the more Richard could feel its original weight.

The silver ring on my chest was warm.

The door opened by itself.

A black cat squeezed in through the crack in the door.

Mrs. McNeil, half-paralyzed in her wheelchair, jolted and struggled to sit up.

"……teacher."

"Sit down."

That faint glimmer of attention traveled from a great distance along with the black cat.

His voice was gentle, but a little hoarse.

"Your injury hasn't healed yet, don't move."

Mrs. McNeil sat back down.

The black cat strolled over to the antiques arranged in a crescent moon shape on the table.

Those pure golden eyes swept over the thirteen old items from the Black Soil River, one by one.

It stopped when it swept across the clay tablet inscribed with the general outline of the "replacement" ritual.

The black cat then looked at Richard.

"Little Richard."

Richard bowed.

"……lady."

"You think you can gather Mr. Reeve's remaining spirit from these thirteen anchors?"

"This step was the right one."

The black cat waved its paw.

"Your quick thinking is a gift."

"It's also your trouble."

Richard's heart skipped a beat.

Before he could even ponder that sentence, the black cat had already strolled back to the antique table.

"McNeil".

"Yes, teacher."

"This time, the summoning of spirits is far more profound than you can handle."

"You just need to watch."

"Set up your 'anchor net' properly, I'll take care of the rest."

"Yes."

Mrs. McNeil took the last five Spirit Relics from the suitcase.

She took a ray of light from each of the five objects and used it to create an extremely thin net, which she then placed over the thirteen objects.

That is the guiding net.

The things we need to gather from the spirit world must first fall into this net to prevent them from getting out of control.

The black cat squatted down in the center of the autopsy room.

It didn't display any utensils; it simply closed its pair of golden eyes.

Then, the calling began.

The call transcended the walls of the autopsy room and the roof of the north wing, knocking directly on the door at the other end of the spirit world.

"For twelve years, there have been things in this city that wear the faces of the dead."

"Get out here!"

The thirteen anchor bodies arranged in a crescent shape on the table all lit up simultaneously after that sentence.

Thirteen strands of marks were extracted from the thirteen anchor bodies, floated into the air above the autopsy area, and coalesced into a blurry human-shaped outline.

Mr. Reeve had a face so kind it was chilling.

"……who."

The voice sounded hollow, carrying a sense of reluctance as if it had been forcibly pulled back from a great distance.

"Finally out," said the black cat.

Its pair of pure golden eyes opened.

Mr. Reeve's silhouette was spotted and hovered in mid-air for a moment.

"...It's you," it said.

Mr. Reeve's voice carried a sense of awe.

"The one on Flower Moon Street," Mr. Reeve's silhouette said, "We...have heard of you before."

"Us?" The black cat's voice deepened. "...The Echoes?"

The figure involuntarily nodded, then immediately stiffened.

But it couldn't control itself.

"It's not surprising that Yingsheng knows me," the black cat said.

"I have always done business with my doors open; the whole empire knows me."

"I called you out tonight for no other reason than..."

I have three questions for you.

Mr. Reeve tried to resist, but he couldn't.

"The first one," said the black cat.

"The silencing technique to kill that coroner."

"You go through it all from beginning to end."

Mr. Reeve's silhouette struggled for a moment in mid-air.

Then, it gave up struggling.

Under Richard's spiritual vision, the blurry silhouette raised the arm of the man in the gray cloth shirt.

Without any medium, they simply pressed that arm down into the void.

Richard's spiritual vision captured the trajectory of that spell's operation.

Without any medium, a vacuum is created simply by raising a hand and pressing down.

"And the distance?" the black cat asked.

"How far away were you from the coroner when he killed you?"

The outline played out again in mid-air.

After the vacuum was pushed out, it did not land immediately; the effects of the spell floated outwards.

Performing spells from a distance.

"...There's one more thing," the black cat said.

"What did you say before you killed the coroner?"

The silhouette trembled violently in mid-air.

It wanted to resist the order.

The more it resisted, the more violently the thirteen anchor bodies trembled.

The bamboo ribs of the broken lantern creaked and groaned.

The green pottery jar was moved to a slightly different position on the table.

A faint wisp of black mist seeped from the clay tablet inscribed with the general principles of "replacement".

Richard stood in the corner, cold sweat starting to break out on his back.

"Hand it over!" The black cat's pure golden eyes widened even further.

The entire autopsy table was suddenly pressed down, and Mr. Reeve's silhouette could no longer resist the immense power of that mastery.

It recited a very short incantation.

"Silent lock, so that's what it is," the black cat said.

"McNeil".

"Yes, teacher."

"I'll trace the trajectory of that technique for you."

Just like Mrs. McNeil did last time.

The spell's trajectory stuck to the parchment as soon as it touched it, turning into streaks of ink.

Three whole pages of parchment.

"Take this," said the black cat.

"There will be more than one Mr. Reeve in the Responding Society."

"You'll encounter this variation of silence again in the future."

"Only by knowing where it comes from can we know how to prevent it."

After receiving permission, Richard quickly began to peruse the document.

[博闻] He has memorized every single stroke down to the millimeter.

He himself was also practicing the original version of the silencing technique and had also considered the possibility of "reversal" in his mind.

From no medium to remote, and now to lockouts...

The entire path to advancement was laid out before him.

He had even vaguely considered what would happen if this set of "locks" were reversed... But the situation wasn't right, so he didn't let himself think about it further for the time being.

The black cat looked again at Mr. Reeve's silhouette, which was beginning to fade in mid-air.

"There's one last thing."

As it spoke, it stood up first.

"McNeil, tighten the anchor netting and retreat to the base of the wall."

"Little Richard, you too, stay away."

Richard felt a vague unease.

They weren't asked to return the money after the first two questions.

But this last question was designed to drive them back to the wall.

He didn't say much, but helped Mrs. McNeill's wheelchair back to the innermost corner of the autopsy room.

"The next question," said the black cat.

"You can't hear a single word."

It raised one paw and pressed down gently.

The first barrier has been lowered.

Under Richard's spiritual vision, it was something like a layer of salt mist.

It encompassed the small area in the center of the autopsy room, along with the outlines of the black cat and Mr. Reeve.

The second layer was a piece of paper soaked in oil, which, when placed on top, even dulled the light reflected off the iron platform.

The third layer is like water.

The fourth layer is like smoke.

The fifth floor...

Richard couldn't count any more when he got to the ninth floor.

The barriers were layered upon each other, falling quickly and steadily.

The etheric trajectories on each layer made him dizzy; each layer was as thick as a wall.

In the end, in his spiritual vision, all that remained of the autopsy room was a blurry image of light seen through deep water.

Through the layers of barriers, Richard saw the small black shadow and spoke to the gray outline.

They couldn't divulge a single word of what they asked.

Mr. Reeve struggled violently inside the barrier.

This is ten times more intense than the time when the "silent lock" was handed over.

The thirteen anchor bodies on the platform trembled even through the barrier.

Its mouth opens and closes.

The moment it finished speaking...

Without warning, they all exploded, like a cup that had been crushed from the inside.

The lingering sound exploded into countless fragments, which flew in all directions within the barrier.

Richard's pupils suddenly contracted.

In the center of the fragment, something opened its eyes.

It was that eye without a pupil.

That shouldn't be the case... Mrs. McNeil just learned this the hard way last time.

Moreover, judging from her words, actions, and notes, Lady Mary should also be a mature and prudent person.

His inspiration began to give him warnings, but to a very slight degree.

Mrs. McNeil, in her wheelchair beside Richard, gave him a reassuring look.

Richard felt a little relieved and continued to observe.

Following that "answer" that had just been uttered, the pupil-less eye forcefully pressed down on the entire gaze.

Pressing down on the center of the barrier, at that small, dark shadow.

That person had been waiting for this moment.

But at the very moment that gaze pressed down upon them.

The black cat's body lit up.

A beam of light rose from its body.

He was tall and wore a crown, leaning on a scepter whose patterns were indistinct.

This is the expert on the sun tradition.

The second light followed immediately, seemingly coming from a tropical island.

The figure held an umbrella, water silently flowing down its surface.

Water dripped down the umbrella ribs, each drop turning into mist as it fell, carrying the salty, stagnant smell of millennia past.

Richard couldn't see its features, but the echo arrived.

...walking on a river without banks, breathing with the tide.

...He once used an umbrella to cover a thousand ravines and valleys.

...The spine has melted into water, the bones have been soaked through, only the sound of the tide remains, rising and falling forever.

This expert's aura is clearly several times stronger than that of the traditional, sun-loving one.

The third one was a fire that burned extremely steadily and quietly.

It had no specific face, but a graceful figure could be vaguely seen in the fire.

This expert in traditional furnace-making techniques, who wields a hammer, is actually a woman.

The fourth one remained suspended in mid-air, without moving a single finger.

The fifth path has no face, no outline, and it's not even quite certain whether it stands there.

But as soon as it appeared, all thirteen artifacts from the Black Soil River on the platform trembled slightly, as if they recognized one of their kind.

The light and shadow of the Five Paths Master rose from the body of a black cat.

They pressed down on the pupilless eye in unison.

In Richard's spiritual vision, the pupilless eye that was pressing down was pressed down from all sides by five invisible hands, inch by inch, back to the other side of the curtain.

Before closing, the eye trembled with extreme reluctance.

And then, that was it.

The thread connecting the curtain to the other side was burned off at the root.

The five beams of light appeared and disappeared just as quickly.

Within the layers of barriers, a small black shadow sat crouching amidst the slowly falling gray-white fragments.

Quietly, as if nothing had happened.

Richard leaned against the wall, somewhat dumbfounded.

...That's the real value of doing business throughout the entire empire.

He suddenly realized something he had never dared to think about before.

Perhaps, Mrs. Mary's stagnation at the "Master" level for so many years wasn't due to an inability to break through to the "Expert" level.

She just didn't want to.

Those layers of barriers dissolved one by one.

The black cat crouched amidst the scattered fragments, raising a paw to slowly lick them.

"McNeil".

"...Teacher." Mrs. McNeil's voice was hoarse.

"Remove the anchor net."

"It's no longer needed."

"Little Richard." The black cat looked at the boy in the corner.

"Yes, madam!" Richard stood at attention.

"The sentence I told you before: 'It exists as you define it.'"

"Um."

"There's one more thing you need to remember tonight."

"Speaking brings about what is to come."

"It's a black cat," the black cat said slowly.

"Asking is also a form of speaking."

"I'm keeping you outside so you won't get any of this 'knowledge'."

"If you don't hear a single word, then that thread won't reach you."

"That one eye can't see you."

"I'm not afraid," it said.

"As you all saw, I caught it."

"But you two..."

It glanced at Mrs. McNeil, then at Richard.

Knowing too much isn't necessarily a good thing.

"Those...those dishes just now..." Mrs. McNeil asked softly.

She didn't dare to ask the word "expert" out loud.

The black cat licked its paws.

"I've been in business for so many years, and there are more than just one or two people who owe me money."

It was said so casually.

"I will submit the relevant information separately."

The black cat stood up.

"Of those thirteen artifacts, twelve have already been destroyed; those that should be divided have been divided, and those that should be handed over have been handed over."

"That clay tablet should be sealed and handed over to Manchester City."

"You and McNeil can both make a copy of those three pages of the silence variant."

"The original documents will be sealed and handed over to Manchester City."

"Yes."

The black cat straightened up and squeezed its body through the crack in the door.

The heavy, calm ethereal aura outside the door slowly dissipated, like the receding tide.

Mrs. McNeill lowered her head, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the bone bracelet on her wrist.

After a while, she finally raised her hand and rubbed her eyes.

"Let's pack up."

Richard snapped out of his daze, stepped forward, and carefully put away the clay tablet filled with the general outline of the replacement ceremony.

All the items were properly categorized, the iron table was wiped clean, and the autopsy room returned to its usual deserted state.

Mrs. McNeill is holding onto the armrest of her wheelchair.

Push me out.

Richard held onto the wheelchair handles and pushed her out of the underground autopsy room, walking up the narrow corridor of the branch office.

On both sides of the corridor, there are piles of ropes, salt bags and copper nails used for sealing, left over from the post-war cleanup.

"This matter concerning Mr. Reeve is now considered closed."

Mrs. McNeil spoke in a low voice.

"But as long as that Black Earth River expert remains at large, all files related to the Echo Society within the Empire can never be archived or sealed."

As you approach the main entrance of the branch office, the hustle and bustle of the outside world hits you.

The distant sounds of coal carts rumbling, pedestrians talking, and vendors hawking their wares completely dispelled the lingering chill of the underground autopsy room.

Mrs. McNeil raised her hand and looked at the rows of houses in the distance.

"The memories of the people in this city have been wiped clean, and they will no longer be tormented by the black water and the ghosts of the dead. This can be considered the best outcome of the sacrifice that night."