"Ha! How could anyone possibly tell whether someone was from out of town just by looking? How would we even distinguish them?" Roy composed himself, feigning a deep conversation with his companion about the contents of the yellow paper. Through the subtle undertones of his words, he reassured both Phel and Pascha, easing their anxiety—after all, aside from Byles, the other three were all native Roonians, with no southern continent heritage at all, so their facial features were entirely ordinary. "But—but this is something extraordinary," Pascha stammered. This simply couldn't be explained by ordinary reasoning! Roy's heart tightened as he glanced at the steadily approaching citizens, their expressions blank. He quickly lowered his voice and shouted: "Run!" As soon as he spoke, he turned and dashed toward the nearest street entrance, with Phel and Pascha close behind. As a native, Byles naturally fell back, allowing a shimmering, ethereal scale pattern to form over his skin. Thud! Thud! Thud! Several citizens lifted their double-barreled hunting guns and aimed them forward, firing. Roy, Phil, and Pascha—all battle-savvy extraordinary individuals—raced, occasionally changing direction or rolling forward with a crouched motion, successfully evading the attack. Then, under Pascha’s guidance, they moved through the streets and alleys, breaking free from the pursuers and reaching a quiet, shadowed corner. “Now what?” breathed Phil, one arm missing, as he gasped for air. “Based on the announcement, it seems we won’t be able to leave the city directly.” “We need to understand the pattern and find solutions within it,” Roy said, though he too was anxious, striving to remain calm so as not to unravel the team’s morale. Pascha glanced at Byers, who was on watch: “Has that bulletin board been there before?” Byers nodded. "Yes, though I rarely have the opportunity to visit the city square, when I was drafted into the military, we gathered there, and I did see the bulletin board." "The bulletin board should be fine," Pascha suggested, "perhaps the two sheets of paper are the key—they give the written edicts a mystical significance." Roy immediately agreed: "Exactly. "And I suspect that the edicts must be publicly announced to take effect. If we can find a chance to tear those two sheets, the corresponding restrictions might vanish." Hearing Roy's words, Pascha, Phil, and Byers all fell into silence. After a few seconds, Phil's facial muscles twitched as he said: "Let's try it! If we're always trapped within the city, even if we're not caught by the citizens, we might still be punished by the edicts for various reasons." Though all of them were exceptional, their ranks were not particularly high, and they would face extreme danger when confronting the city's widespread hostility. Roy, Byers, and Pascha—all of whom had seen combat—understood that hesitation at this moment would be the most unwise course of action, and thus each swiftly made their decision, agreeing to Phil's proposal. Guided by the experienced "hunter" Pascha, the group wound around half the city, returning to the municipal square through an alternate street. By the time they arrived, the citizens who had gathered to view the announcement had dispersed, as if the city were now actively searching for foreigners. Glancing at the quiet, upright notice board standing between two gas lamps, Roy and the others approached cautiously, always ready to flee. As they drew near their destination, Roy suddenly thought of a question and lowered his voice: "Would destroying the announcement constitute a violation of law?" "Theoretically, yes," Pascha replied, pausing momentarily. They immediately turned their attention to the notice board, scanning the offenses listed in the third law: “... ‘8. Damage to public property;’ ...” “Really?” Bryers exclaimed. Phile's already pale face grew even paler as he thought for a moment. “What penalties are imposed for damage to public property?” This was a relatively minor offense, and the penalties were likely to be light. If that were true, Phile decided to take a calculated risk and tear down the notice, putting an end to this terrifying and strange sequence of events. “First offense: flogging,” a voice spoke up from behind them as Roy, Pascha, and Bryers pondered the answer. The four people turned in surprise, and there stood a young man dressed in a black robe, wearing a high-crowned hat, with an unremarkable appearance. He continued: “Second offense: amputation of the hand. As for repeated offenses, I’m not certain.” “How do you know this?” Roy held his hidden dagger tightly, eyes alert, and furrowed his brow in question. The young man smiled. "I tried, but it had no effect—the announcement will soon recover." "So you were whipped?" Pascha asked, now somewhat enlightened. "Yes," the young man nodded easily. "But since I also committed fraud, I was later sentenced to have my hand amputated." "Fraud?" Byles asked, somewhat puzzled. "The simple truth is," the young man replied with a cheerful smile, "I didn't personally go and damage the announcement. Instead, I had a dummy sent in, and it was that dummy who was whipped." As he spoke, he raised his right arm. At the wrist, just like Phil's, the limb was cleanly severed. The skin around the wound was pale with a reddish hue, and it still seemed to be bleeding. Suddenly, the fracture began to move, and one after another, slender, translucent, twisted creatures crawled out, entangling and overlapping in layers to form a new hand. Throughout this process, Roy and the others felt no sense of awe or surprise—upon seeing the small creatures whose details they could barely distinguish, their minds grew disoriented, their thoughts scattered, and they struggled to control their emotional fluctuations. Only when the hand fully covered their skin and appeared normal did the extraordinary beings regain composure, stepping back simultaneously with a mix of astonishment, curiosity, and fear. The scene had utterly surpassed their comprehension! "Oh, I nearly forgot to introduce myself—I'm a traveling magician," said Caine, the very person who had just committed fraud and damage to public property. He glanced at the four extraordinary beings and smiled. "My specialty is fulfilling people's wishes. Do any of you have something you'd like to achieve?" "Heard this question, Roy perked up and asked with greater hope, 'Can we leave Beldan?' 'Of course, I'll do my best to arrange this, though not right now,' said Kline, offering his promise. Then he turned to Philip, whose hand had been severed: 'His wish has been expressed—what about yours?' '...I'd like my hand restored,' Philip said hesitantly. 'Good,' Kline said, turning to Byers. 'Retrieve his hand.' Byers hesitated but eventually followed the mysterious man's instructions, opening the wooden chest and returning Philip's hand. 'Come here,' Kline said, smiling to Philip. With courage, Philip took his severed hand and walked over. 'Unfasten the bandages,' Kline instructed. 'Place the hand back in its original position—remember, don't reverse it, or we'll have to cut it off and start again.'" Seeing how certain the other was, Philip gained a bit of confidence and quickly twisted his face into a distressed expression, removing the bandage that had stuck to his wound, making continuous hissing sounds. Once he had placed the severed arm down, Kline produced a sheet of white paper and brought it close. Then, he gently wiped the area at the break with his hand. Without a sound, the paper split into two halves, and Philip felt his pain vanish instantly. He hurried to look down and noticed that the break on his left wrist was now perfectly intact, as if it had never been injured at all. Subconsciously moving his fingers, he found no loss in dexterity. "Your wish has come true," Kline stepped back two paces and smiled. "Thank you..." Philip replied, somewhat dazed. Kline then turned to the other two extraordinary beings. "What about yours?" Seeing Philip's wish fulfilled, Byers stepped forward immediately. "I'd like to know where my family is now." Klein甩了甩左臂，取出一面饰有古朴纹路的银色镜子，低头笑道：“刚才那个问题的答案是什么？” The surface of the mirror shimmered, and one after another, silver words emerged: “Belland Gorolin Cemetery…” Byles, stretching his neck, felt his heart sink as a deep sense of sorrow and loss surged across his face. The next instant, another silver word leapt from the water-like glow: “…the caretaker’s cottage.” …That means… Byles’ expression shifted from sorrow to joy, and he spoke sincerely, “Thank you.” As soon as he finished, two questions suddenly came to him: How many people could the cottage accommodate? How many caretakers were there? His family certainly wasn’t just two or three! Byles’ expression shifted between gloom and hope, and he fell silent once more. He didn’t notice the questions that appeared on the silver mirror: “Great Lord, have I answered with sufficient kindness?” “Hmm.” Klein nodded slightly, his gaze shifting to the remaining woman. Pasah paused for two seconds before saying, "My wish is that you protect us until we live to leave Berdann." She found Roy's earlier wish somewhat flawed, since those leaving Berdann need not be the living. "Smart," Klein remarked with a smile. "Your wish will be fulfilled." "Then what is the cost? I mean, what is the price for watching the magic?" Pasah quickly asked. "Your wishes themselves are the cost," Klein replied briefly, then pondered, "Suppose certain things are objectively false, yet you willingly use them—shouldn't that still count as no fraud, then?" Roy and the others listened, looking puzzled and thoughtfully shaking their heads in turn. "Definitely not," they agreed. "This is actually a game between the two parties." "There is no fraud in a voluntary act with clear awareness." "Undoubtedly not." After hearing each of the four respond, Crane smiled: "That's exactly how ordinary people perceive it." As he spoke, he extended his right hand slightly, drawing into view a woman dressed in a simple robe, with long black hair. This was the historical image of the Night Court's Abbess, Arianna. Crane glanced around, noting no unusual occurrences, and then smiled at the projection, saying: "Madam, what exactly has happened?" Arianna's eyes subtly shifted, deepening into a serene gaze that instantly conveyed a sense of calm. In a calm tone, she said: "The Grand Patriarch of the War God Church, Laryon, has fled, and I am currently tracking his movements." She paused and added: "Since arriving in Beltrand, I have received new information. It indicates that when Laryon fled, he carried with him an object sealed within a spell." "0–02." PS: I'd like to recommend a WeChat public account called "Book Sea Fish Person," authored by "Andes Morning Wind," a top fan of mysterious and intriguing literary content on Weibo. The author posts at least four articles per week, including in-depth reviews of web novels, new book spotlights, and various book lists.