Dorothy gazed at the letter before her, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. However, upon recalling Aldrich’s words earlier, a sense of doubt crept into her mind. ‘This so-called ‘cognitive poison’… I’ve never sensed it, but everyone else seems to take it seriously. Should I take this chance to ask about it?’ With that thought, Dorothy quickly organized her words and spoke up. “Sir, there’s something I’d like to consult you about. What’s your understanding of this ‘cognitive poison’?” Dorothy asked, trying her best to sound like she wasn’t completely ignorant of the subject. “cognitive poison, you say… Haha, Miss Mayschoss, it’s not something one can simply understand.” Aldrich chuckled in response, leaving Dorothy momentarily stunned. “Not something that can be understood? Why?” she pressed. “Because… three pounds consultation fee,” Aldrich said, jingling the coins in his hand. Dorothy looked at him with a deadpan expression before handing him three pounds out of the twenty she had just received. After pocketing the money, Aldrich continued. “No one can truly comprehend cognitive poison. It has existed since ancient times, present in all forms of knowledge—especially the mystic. The more profound the mystic, the more potent the toxicity. Every Beyonder seeking mystical knowledge must endure its torment. Those who fail to withstand it risk madness at best, death at worst, or, in severe cases, losing control. cognitive poison is a threshold blocking the path of all seekers of the mystic, a significant obstacle for Beyonders climbing their paths of transcendence.” As he spoke, Aldrich’s demeanor grew increasingly solemn. “Many have researched cognitive poison, but no one has made any breakthroughs. No one knows its essence or why it exists. We only understand its effects, unable to grasp its true nature. All we can do is rely on experience to resist it. It’s the contamination of knowledge. If anyone in this world could truly understand its nature, it would be the gods...” "As for cognitive poison, what I—and most Beyonders—know is limited to this much. It’s not worth much, hence the modest fee. Lastly, let me remind you, Miss Mayschoss, to always be well-prepared when delving into mysticism. I believe you have the means to handle it?” Dorothy nodded silently, slightly taken aback by Aldrich’s explanation. ‘cognitive poison… A poison embedded within knowledge itself, undefined and enigmatic, yet the bane of all seekers of transcendence?’ … The streets of Igwynt were brightly lit at night, with lampposts illuminating both sides of the bustling roads. Shops remained open, and pedestrians wandered the sidewalks. Although not as lively as the nighttime cities of Dorothy’s previous life, it was far livelier than Vulcan. Horse-drawn carriages traveled the streets, and Dorothy rode in one of them. After parting ways with Aldrich, she had planned to head home but found no carriages available. Just as she was considering using her Corpse Marionette Ring to animate a dead horse and ride it home, Aldrich reappeared, offering her a school carriage—at the cost of ten coins, nearly ten times the usual fare. ‘This guy’s a businessman at heart. Charging for even the smallest thing—what kind of craftsman is he?’ Sitting in the carriage, Dorothy crossed her arms, sulking at Aldrich’s sudden penchant for charging fees. Yet, in some ways, his adherence to rules had its merits. For instance, before she left, Aldrich had assured her that he wouldn’t disclose her information, whether to the Bureau of Tranquility or the Crimson Banquet. "Don’t worry, Miss Mayschoss. Since we’ve done several deals, you’re now a client of our Craftsmen’s Guild. By our rules, I won’t betray any client’s information." Recalling Aldrich’s promise, Dorothy felt somewhat reassured. The Crimson Eucharist’s recent failure had left no survivors to report back. Thus, they would likely attribute the failure to interference from Grayhill, assuming their agents had alerted the organization. "I can’t remain passive. Once I complete my advancement, I’ll consider launching a counterattack. But how did the Eucharist get such detailed information on me? First, they knew my travel plans. Now, they know which school I attend… Something doesn’t add up." Deep in thought, Dorothy rode the carriage until it stopped in front of her apartment on Sunflower Street. After bidding farewell to the school coachman, she climbed the stairs with her satchel. Upon opening her door, she was greeted by Gregor, who was just putting on his coat. “Oh, Praise the Holy Son! You’re finally back, Dorothy. I was starting to worry something had happened. You’re never this late,” Gregor said, visibly relieved. Dorothy shrugged casually and replied, “No need to worry, Gregor. I just stayed behind at school to get some extra tutoring. You know how we girls aren’t allowed to take night classes, which puts us at a disadvantage compared to the boys. When a teacher offers extra help, I make sure to seize the opportunity.” Dorothy smiled as she spoke. Hearing this, Gregor relaxed further and beamed. “Extra tutoring? That’s great! What a kind teacher. If this helps you improve your grades, we should thank them properly. I’ll buy a gift for you to bring to them.” No need for a gift… I’ve already spent enough money on him to cover ten years of tuition… Dorothy silently grumbled but refrained from voicing her thoughts. After putting away her belongings, she joined Grego for dinner. During the meal, an idea struck her, and she casually asked him a question. “By the way, Gregor, does your company require employees to register family information?” “Family information? Hmm… Yes, because our work is somewhat risky. If anything happens, they need to notify our families,” Gregor replied after some thought. “I see… And do you need to provide a reason when requesting leave?” “Of course. Otherwise, why would they approve it?” Gregor answered matter-of-factly, then looked at Dorothy curiously. “Why are you asking all this?” “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to understand how companies in Igwynt operate for future job planning,” Dorothy replied nonchalantly. Gregor, however, took her words seriously. “Job planning after graduation… Dorothy, I’ve told you before not to consider a job like mine. I think you’d make an excellent lawyer. You may not realize it, but lawyers are indispensable to the wealthy. It’s a lucrative career! Or you could consider becoming a civil servant—Igwynt’s civil servants have great prospects. I’ve interacted with some through my work…” The rest of the dinner turned into Gregor’s lengthy career advice session. Dorothy listened with mild exasperation, forcing herself to endure until the meal was over, after which she escaped to her room. Locking the door behind her, Dorothy turned on her desk lamp, pulled a letter from her bag, and sat at her desk. “My career path has already been decided…” she muttered softly, staring at the letter in her hand.