Before returning to Zheng San's apartment, Ulrich stopped by a few stores to obtain various items. Sage plant, wormwood, and sandalwood, all of which are found in herb shops.

  Besides herbs, he also bought candles, chalices, and tools of all kinds. These were the required materials for the shadow rune, as well as the corresponding rituals, according to Gu Lan's research.

  Even with Ulrich's knowledge of the cities, the search for these things took him some time. In fact, one of the more difficult item is a silver knife. This item was not commonly used in the current time, making it almost impossible to obtain without visiting a specific antique shop.

  Fortunately, Gu Lan was an antique dealer who also happened to have this sort of item on hand, thus, saving him the effort.

  By the time Ulrich arrived at Zheng San's apartment, it was already ten at night.

  Ulrich stood before Zheng San's door once more, his arms laden with bulging bags. The scent of dried herbs wafted from one, while metallic implements clinked softly in another.

  He raised his hand and knocked—three sharp raps. With his current state, climbing the 5th floor is not an option, though he did consider it.

  The door opened with a small crack. Zheng San's scarred face appeared, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  Then recognition dawned, followed immediately by exasperation.

  "You again?" Zheng San's voice carried equal parts disbelief and resignation. "Brother, do you have some vendetta against me? Can't you just leave me alone?"

  Ulrich pushed past him without ceremony, stepping into the apartment as if he owned the place.

  Facing Zheng San's question, Ulrich recalled the spilled coffee during their first encounter and nodded.

  "Yes, and no."

  "Why do I feel like you are being petty?" Zheng San closed the door with more force than necessary, turning to watch as Ulrich began depositing his bags on the dining table.

  "Petty? No, I'm the most virtuous person you will ever meet. And I only need two more hours anyway, what's the problem?"

  "Think of me as... a temporary occupant." Ulrich unpacked the first bag, revealing bundles of sage and wormwood. The pungent aroma filled the small apartment immediately.

  Zheng San's nose wrinkled. "What in the—are those herbs? What are you planning to do, cook a witch's brew in my kitchen?"

  "Something like that." Ulrich continued unpacking methodically—candles, a silver knife, various implements Zheng San couldn't identify.

  "Brother!" Zheng San stepped forward, gesturing helplessly at the growing collection of strange items.

  "You break into my home twice in one day, you threaten me with my own gun, you make yourself comfortable, and now you're turning my apartment into some kind of... of... What even is this?"

  Ulrich paused, looking up at Zheng San with that same unsettling blankness. "Does it matter?"

  "Does it—" Zheng San sputtered, then threw his hands up in defeat.

  "Fine. Fine! Make yourself at home. Rearrange the furniture while you're at it. Perhaps brew some tea. Should I warm the water for you?"

  "That won't be necessary, I'm not your father," Ulrich said in a low and serious voice.

  Zheng San collapsed into his chair, watching in bewildered silence as Ulrich continued organizing his mysterious supplies.

  Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he asked, "Are you going to tell me what any of this is for?"

  "No."

  "Of course not." Zheng San rubbed his temples. "Why would you? That would be reasonable."

  Ulrich reached into his bag and withdrew the black book—the one Zheng San had seen from the organization's task. He placed it on the table between them with deliberate care.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Zheng San's eyes widened. "Is that—"

  "Your assignment. Consider it delivered."

  "You..." Zheng San leaned forward, staring at the book, then at Ulrich.

  "I retrieved it from its current owner, yes. Did I steal it? No, he gave it to me willingly. I had consent, though, he did look a little afraid of me… Aren't I good looking?

  Hearing this, Zheng San's eye twitched, "That's called stealing, brother!"

  His voice rose another pitch as he exclaimed. "You committed theft! Stolen goods! That's...!"

  Ulrich rolled his eyes, muttering," Weren't you going to steal it anyway?"

  Without much time to play around, he dropped the act and demanded, "I need to meet your client. Arrange it."

  "Arrange it?"

  "That's not possible. Unless the client agrees on it themselves, a meeting is not on the table."

  Ulrich continued to arrange the items from his bag as though he did not hear Zheng San's words. Then, the noises stopped.

  "You communicate online when you turn in your task?"

  Zheng San nodded, unable to grasp Ulrich's intentions.

  "I'm sure there is a way for you to pass a message to the client directly," He said, then raised his finger in the air to mimic a writing gesture.

  "Bring me some pen and paper."

  Immediately, Zheng San was confused. However, knowing Ulrich, he didn't question it and quickly got him the paper and pen.

  "Take a picture of this and send it to your client when you turn in your assignment." Ulrich's voice was firm and steady, speaking as though he knew the client firsthand.

  Seeing this, he can't help but glance at the paper, wanting to know the content that made Ulrich so confident.

  On it were small, messy scribbles. The symbols and shapes left him dazed, almost dizzy.

  The more he stared at it, the more dizzy he got; it was as though the scribbles were coming to life, staring back at him.

  Looking at Zheng San's expression, Ulrich scoffed inwardly. How could this man possibly understand it?

  This was ancient Hermes, perhaps, only the few symbols that Ulrich could recognize. Together, it meant — 'Greetings'.

  "What is this?" He blurted out, even more baffled as he stared at the paper in his hand.

  "A greeting. If my guess is correct, then this person should recognize it and take the initiative to contact you, if not, then forget about it," He said, refusing to elaborate further.

  Following his words, Ulrich went back to arranging the candles on the dining table. This time, Zheng watched as he took out a large black gem the size of a fist.

  "Where did you get that—"

  Instantly, Ulrich threw him a stare, as though to tell him to get to work.

  Seeing this, Zheng San sighed with helplessness and went into his room. By the time he returned, there was a small, black laptop in his arms.

  Ignoring Ulrich in the room, he booted it up and entered the site, greeted by a series of questions. This was a safety measure employed by the organization. The questions themselves were for verification.

  Only after answering each question did he land on the login page, where he input his information.

  Finally, Zheng San managed to find the task assigned to him, and with a click, he initiated a contact with the client directly by sending a single greeting message.

  1999: Why are you contacting me?

  The black and white cursor blinked continuously, while the text stared at him. After a moment, Zheng San raised his hand, typing on the keyboard.

  Big Three: A friend is interested in meeting you.

  "..."

  Seeing no response, he sighed.

  He knew this would happen. Oftentimes, the clients themselves rarely take an interest in a meeting. Much less for a meeting with someone else besides the direct handler of the task.

  Then, following Ulrich's instruction, he sent the picture of the paper scribbles on screen without much hope.

  Big Three: 111.png

  1999 is typing….

  1999: Who is this friend of yours?

  Zheng San's hand froze, his fingers hovering above the keyboard. His eyes widened as he stared at the screen, reading the message once, twice, three times to ensure he wasn't hallucinating.

  The cursor blinked expectantly, waiting for a response.

  "What the..." Zheng San hissed, producing a low whisper.

  His head whipped around to look at Ulrich, who was still calmly arranging candles on the dining table without a care about his surroundings.

  Zheng San's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. He looked back at the screen, then at the paper with those incomprehensible scribbles sitting beside his laptop, then at Ulrich again.

  "Brother..." His voice cracked slightly. "What... what that greeting? What did you write?"

  Clearly, those messy symbols meant something. Something significant enough to turn a disinterested client into an eager one with a single image.

  Ulrich didn't even glance up from his work, his tone increasingly casual. "I told you. Just a greeting."

  "A greeting." Zheng San repeated flatly, his eye twitching again. "A normal greeting doesn't make someone do a complete one-eighty like this!"

  His heart hammered in his chest. Who was this client? And more importantly, who the hell was this young man in his apartment?

  For some reason, he had a feeling that this was not the first time he had met Ulrich. But how is that possible? Such an eccentric person, if they met before, he would certainly remember!