From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

After leaving the police station, Douglas found a coffee shop on the corner, had breakfast, and then lit his walnut pipe while looking at a map.

The blue-gray smoke drifted away, and he used it to calm himself down.

He needed to calm down, because the place he was about to go might very well lead him to an old acquaintance.

Harding Street was unusually quiet in the morning. Most of the small shops on the ground floor were not yet open, except for a florist who was arranging the flowers in buckets at the door.

Upon arriving at number twenty-seven, Douglas stood in front of the door for a few seconds, straightened the collar of his trench coat, and then raised the brass door knocker and knocked three times.

The door opened a crack, revealing the face of a middle-aged man wearing round-framed glasses.

The man's first reaction upon seeing Douglas was not wariness, but rather a sense of knowing—as if he already knew someone would come knocking.

"A natural history enthusiast?" the middle-aged man asked routinely.

"No," Douglas answered crisply, while taking out his Ninth Bureau badge from the inside pocket of his trench coat and flashing it in front of the middle-aged man.

"Harry Douglas, Senior Investigator, Ninth Bureau, Federal Ministry of Security. I need to see your superior."

The middle-aged man's expression shifted, but he quickly regained his composure and stepped aside to make way.

"Please come in, Inspector. I'll go inform Mr. Holloway."

Douglas stepped across the threshold. Instead of following the middle-aged man into the museum on the first floor, he stood in the foyer and waited.

A moment later, unhurried footsteps came from the direction of the stairs, accompanied by the rather deliberate sound of a cane tapping the ground.

The inspector looked up and saw Kane Holloway standing halfway up the stairs.

The elegantly dressed caregiver, with a meticulously trimmed goatee, stood with his hands behind his back on the stairs, looking down at the guests in the foyer.

He wore an expression that Douglas knew all too well—a cold laugh that contained disgust and mockery, as if to say, "I knew you jerk would come knocking on my door sooner or later."

Douglas stared at that face, feeling his temples throbbing again.

"Holloway," he said the name in a flat tone.

"Long time no see, Douglas," Holloway replied in the same tone, walking slowly down the stairs. "You still look like someone's stepped on your face."

Douglas ignored that. He simply pulled a picture of Lane Hall from his pocket and held it up in front of Holloway.

"This person must have been to your club recently. Tell me his whereabouts."

Holloway didn't even bother to look down at the photographs; his gaze passed over Douglas and landed on a framed picture of insect specimens on the foyer wall, as if it were more worthy of admiration than a photograph of a fugitive.

"Inspector, the Bayview City Natural History Club operates within the framework of the 'Balance Alliance,'" Holloway scoffed. "We're here to maintain order in the local clandestine trading market, not to act as informants for the authorities."

"I'm not here to talk to you about market order."

"Then what are you here to talk about? The Ninth Intendant's authority has limited effect here." Holloway's lips curled slightly upward. "Or are we here to talk about that unpleasant past between us?"

Douglas clenched his fist in his trench coat pocket!

"This man is a fugitive who escaped from a transport ship guarded by a Tier 1 Transcendent." He tried to keep his voice steady. "I need to confirm whether he possesses Transcendent abilities and where he went after leaving Gulfstream City."

"A fugitive?"

Holloway finally deigned to glance at the photo, then gave Douglas an exaggerated look.

"Those nuns might catch a few pathetic lunatics at most. Is it really worth the Ninth Bureau sending a senior investigator like 'you' to personally investigate them? Inspector, you make me think you're making a mountain out of a molehill, or that the Ninth Bureau has made a mistake in this matter."

"That's not something you can judge."

"On the contrary, that's exactly what I can judge." Holloway's smile faded, and his voice became businesslike. "As long as our guests don't violate the rules of the International Extraordinary Coordination Committee, we have no obligation to disclose information to anyone. This is the position of the Libra Alliance, and it's also the bottom line for our club."

Douglas stepped forward to face Holloway. He was half a head taller than the caregiver, and his shadow enveloped the latter.

"You are protecting a potential—"

"What potential?" Holloway tilted his head back, looking directly into Douglas's eyes. "Inspector, if you had a certificate jointly issued by the Ninth Bureau and the Coordinating Committee, why didn't you present it from the beginning?"

These words were like a needle, piercing Douglas's nerves precisely.

Of course he knows the rules.

There is indeed an unwritten agreement between Bureau Nine and non-governmental supernatural organizations: as long as there is no conclusive evidence that a legitimate supernatural gathering is seriously threatening social order, Bureau Nine generally will not take the initiative to infiltrate or interfere.

This rule was established decades ago at the "Curtain Conference" by the International Coordinating Committee for Extraordinary Personnel, with the aim of avoiding a full-scale confrontation between official forces and civilian extraordinary individuals.

The Quan Tianping Alliance took advantage of this, positioning themselves as a "neutral buffer zone in the gray area," neither committing crimes nor cooperating with the authorities, and reaping the benefits of this rule.

Douglas also knew that what truly emboldened Holloway to act so openly was the old grudge between the two.

Five years ago, there was an old incident—Douglas didn't want to think about the specifics—but Holloway had clearly kept a record of it and intended to get his revenge with interest.

There was a few seconds of silence in the foyer before Holloway broke it, his tone carrying a sense of superiority.

"Inspector, I have a suggestion for you: if you truly believe this person poses an extraordinary threat, apply for orders from your superiors through proper channels. I'll be waiting for you then."

Douglas stared at Holloway's hypocritical face.

He was quite curious to see what Holloway would look like after he punched him and ripped off his goatee and chin.

But in the end he did nothing; getting angry here would only make Holloway more smug.

A more realistic reason is that he currently lacks concrete evidence to prove that Lane Hall possesses extraordinary abilities.

A fugitive case without extraordinary evidence is not enough to break the protective umbrella of the Quan Tianping Alliance.

Douglas turned around without a word, pushed open the dark green wooden door, and stepped into the morning light of Harding Street.

Holloway's unhurried voice came from behind: "Inspector, be careful on the road. Rush hour traffic in Bayview is terrible."

The door slammed shut behind me with a crisp, clean sound.

Douglas stood on Harding Street and took a deep breath.

He took out a pipe from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag.

Blue-gray smoke billowed from his nostrils and quickly dissipated in the morning breeze.

"Damn it..."