"Coo coo coo..."

In the sunset glow, a snowy white owl flapped its wings silently, landing on the rooftop of a building at the Navy Academy.

Seeing the master who had been waiting here, Bess happily bounced onto Aiven's shoulder, affectionately grooming his hair with its beak. However, instead of tidying it, it made his hair even messier.

"Pfft—" came a light laugh from a young girl nearby.

"Ahem, that's enough, Bess. We'll play later. Today's task is tough; show your skills, and I'll reward you with a month's supply of fresh meat."

"Coo coo coo..." (Large portion)

"Alright, no problem!"

After such a long period of nurturing, Owl Bess as a "Base Station" has grown significantly, despite still being a weak combatant.

But its data processing capability has taken an exponential leap; even its intelligence now can compare with that of a five- or six-year-old child, although it can't talk, it's far more reliable than a mischievous child.

Moreover, it can connect with Aiven's mind link at any time, making language not a barrier for them.

Sweeping his gaze over the companions sitting or standing: "I'm counting on you, everyone!"

"Don't worry, leave it to us." After spending the whole day regaining vigor and receiving potion treatment, several people had already restored their optimal state, responding in unison.

Today is already the sixth evening.

As the seven-day final deadline approaches, the remaining two Killing Ghosts have yet to be slain, and the situation is urgent. Even possessing the impressive results of a double kill during one night, they have no chance to rest.

The Crowman Team, Iron Wall Knights, the nearly crippled City Guard, First Fleet, Sea Hunter Guild, Explorer Association, Royal Navy Academy, noble private soldiers—all who are still breathing have been dispatched, searching the entire city for the remaining two Killing Ghosts.

Even after experiencing a fierce battle, it's impossible for them to be idle at this moment.

Especially Aiven; now is the time for his sea bird scouting network to shine, and he absolutely cannot be absent as a major force.

Of course, besides those decent reasons, meritorious awards, resource supply, and rapid growth speed after battling similar-level opponents are the real motivations for them being so proactive!

Moreover, if the Killing Ghosts aren't completely cleared, every one of their family members will be in danger. Although the probability is only one in ten thousand, no one wants this "Lucky One" to appear in their own home!

"Principal Princeton is always in the Academy, don't worry, the Killing Ghost won't dare come here," Krell said confidently about the safety of the Academy.

After that night, Krell's attitude toward Aiven hadn't changed much; instead, he seemed to have shed some burden, his previously dismissive demeanor renewed.

He even tidied up the pile of "junk toys" in his bedroom, exhibiting a bit of the transformation akin to a city brat returning to family business and reforming themselves.

Hmm, it's not evident elsewhere, but he appears much more reliable than before.

As one of Aiven's official teammates, Krell was naturally a part of today's operation.

Aiven sat on the ground, gradually entering deep meditation, and in this state used Bess as a medium, projecting all his mind into the scouting network formed by sea birds, searching fully for traces of the Killing Ghost!

The remaining three took up their spirits to be responsible for vigilance.

...

As night fell, a man in worn military attire that appeared to belong to a veteran from the last century, casually strolled down a street that had become somewhat desolate, yet still had pedestrians passing through.

Even though many had realized there was some danger lurking in the city, due to livelihoods, what could they do? A day without work means a day without income; working probably won't lead to death, but staying home will undoubtedly lead to starvation sooner or later.

However, the "veteran's" strange outfit didn't attract any attention from passersby, as if passing by an invisible person.

More amazingly, a couple walked toward him, instinctively letting go of their hands when they reached him, only to hold them again after passing by.

Clearly, his strange abilities were not merely invisibility.

The veteran reached the entrance of the "Ancalia Grand Theater" located in the city center and adeptly scaled the theater's snow-white marble exterior wall like a big gecko.

The complicated sculptures and stone columns on the wall provided plenty of footholds for him to use hand and foot, effortlessly climbing to the top of the theater, which was as tall as a five-story building.

Choosing a spot with a broad view and natural cover, he removed the "long stick" wrapped in burlap from his back, tearing away the cloth to reveal a fully black firearm, its black barrel and black stock plain and unadorned.

Yet, the two metal runes carved on the stock—"Night Owl"—indicated that this was indeed an "Alchemy Firearm".

He positioned the muzzle on a protruding guardrail.

"Ha, the hunt begins!"

The veteran wore a smile as cold and hard as his demeanor, moving his eyes close to the scope.

Bang—

The flame flickered slightly, the gunshot dim and barely audible.

At the same time, a snowy white seagull happened to fly over him, its keen eyes scanning the city below, yet paid no mind to the "veteran" in close proximity.

Poor neighborhood.

In a small courtyard.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

"Little Amy, be good. After mom earns money by washing these clothes for others, I'll take you out to buy some white bread, okay?" The young mother lifted her head to show her son a smile.

"Okay, mom." Although still hungry, the little boy bit his finger and obediently sat on a small stool waiting for his mom to finish her work.

Bang!

...

Beneath the same night sky.

"Strange!"

Aiven's sea birds had already spread across most of New Inn Port, including the entire main city district, port district, and part of the suburban estates.

Especially the high-rise buildings with open views were focal points for patrols, but after a thorough search, there was no result.

"Any finds, Aiven?"

Though they temporarily served as guards, ensuring Aiven's safety while he immersed himself completely in the scouting network, at this moment, they felt more anxious than Aiven himself.

It's truly frustrating not being able to help despite watching closely!

Shaking his head, Aiven pondered:

"Most of the seven Killing Ghosts have distinct characteristics and action patterns. They even used to be 'humans', and their behavioral methods have traces to follow.

The 'Hammer Following Mad Demon's' targets are mainly workers and strong men; the 'Clown's' targets are mainly young boys; the 'Murder Prince's' targets are beautiful young girls;

The 'bluebells' targets are males of the middle-class or above; 'White-Faced Dancer' is keen on killing attendees of large balls indiscriminately; the identity-unconfirmed 'Random Host' isn't included.

Only the 'Demon's Disciple' is rumored to have been an elite Sniper Musketeer who, upon leaving the army, suffered from mental illness (now known as: stress-related mental disorder), indiscriminately killing men, women, old folks, and children using a Sniper Firearm, continuing as a 'Killing Ghost'!"

Thus, we can take targeted measures against other Killing Ghosts, delineating active areas or dangerous crowds. But concerning the Demon's Disciple, there are no good methods, as his hunting range is too extensive.

Furthermore, his peculiar ability, which reduces his presence, is practically a bug for a sniper who needs to conceal their actions!

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