The Upper Sector and Lower Sector of New Babylon were like two parallel universes.

  While the Lower Sector was drenched in never-ending acid rain, the air thick with rot and despair, the Upper Sector enjoyed eternal sunshine. A massive artificial sky-dome simulated perfect blue skies and white clouds, even adjusting the color temperature of the sunlight according to the season. The air here was triple-filtered, carrying an expensive, crisp scent as if it had just been shipped in from the Alps.

  John stood before the ornate iron gates of the Van Horn Manor, feeling like a glob of sludge that had accidentally fallen into a cream cake.

  His cheap, still-damp hoodie clashed violently with the servants around him, who wore custom silk robes and walked genetically modified pets.

  "Name?"

  The security captain at the gate was a cyborg. His left eye was a massive red camera lens, scanning John up and down.

  "John Doe. I'm here for the bounty."

  John held up his phone, displaying the mission code for [Find the Cyber-Ragdoll Cat].

  The captain scoffed, looking at him like a beggar looking for a payout.

  "Another one here to die. Go in, and don't get the carpet dirty."

  The gates slowly opened.

  Revealed before John was a garden so luxurious it was suffocating. The fountains sprayed not water, but liquid mana essence; every blade of grass on the lawn had been gene-edited to remain a perfect emerald green forever.

  And in the center of the garden, a group of people were swarming around a noblewoman.

  That was Mrs. Van Horn. She wore a long gown woven from phoenix feathers. Her makeup was exquisite, but right now she was weeping like a willow in the rain, her handkerchief practically wringable.

  "My Luna... my precious darling... if anything happens to her, I won't live!"

  Standing beside her was an impatient-looking middle-aged man. It was Mr. Van Horn, New Babylon's largest potion supplier.

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  "Enough! It's just a cat, isn't it? Just buy another one!"

  "What do you know! That's Luna! She is unique! Her gene sequence is fused with my soul fragments! She is my life!"

  John stood on the periphery, listening to this farce.

  One cat life.

  A fifty thousand bounty.

  That money was enough to buy ten human lives in the Lower Sector. Enough to keep Margaret alive for another year.

  This was the arithmetic of New Babylon.

  "Are you the Necromancer who took the job?"

  A butler-like man walked over, holding a handkerchief to his nose, seemingly repulsed by John's smell.

  "Yeah." John nodded.

  "Follow me. This is the last place Luna was seen."

  The butler led John to an exquisite cat house in the corner of the garden. It was made of solid gold, lined with velvet, and next to it sat unfinished, top-tier sashimi that cost more than John's monthly food budget.

  "Three hours ago, Luna was having afternoon tea. Then she suddenly vanished. The surveillance cameras didn't catch anything."

  The butler pointed to several paw prints on the ground.

  "These are the last traces she left. Then the footprints just stop here."

  John crouched down to examine them closely.

  The prints were light, definitely a cat's. But at the edge of the lawn, they abruptly vanished, as if it had... flown away?

  He pulled out his Yin-Yang iPad and activated [Spirit Vision].

  The screen showed chaotic energy fluctuations. There were too many magic arrays in this manor; the interference was severe. It was like trying to hear a mosquito buzzing in a room full of noise.

  "Well? Have you found anything?" the butler urged.

  John shook his head. "Too much interference. And... there's a smell here."

  Even through the filtration, John caught a whiff of something extremely faint, but definitely out of place.

  It was... the rot of a sewer.

  But how was that possible? This was the Upper Sector. Even the sewers here were closed-loop systems, cleaner than the tap water pipes in the Lower Sector.

  "Smell? Are you insinuating that our manor is unsanitary?" The butler frowned.

  "No. I'm saying the cat might have gone somewhere it shouldn't have."

  John stood up and looked around.

  The manor was too big, too complex. Finding it alone would take days. And although the cat had a tracker, as Singularity had said, it was military-grade encryption; ordinary spells couldn't trace it.

  He needed professional help.

  He needed a "detective" with a nose sharper than a dog's, logic tighter than a machine's, and the ability to see through these fake facades.

  John looked down at the tablet.

  The [Free Summoning Ticket] Singularity had gifted him was blinking in his inventory.

  "Since it's a cat hunt... let's find the guy who's best at finding things."

  He opened the [Underworld Connect] APP and typed keywords into the search bar:

  [Detective], [Cat], [Sharp-tongued].

  The system quickly matched a result.

  [Responder: Sherlock Holmes]

  [Race: Heroic Spirit (Consulting Detective)]

  [Status: Extremely Bored (Boredom Level: MAX)]

  [Skills: Deduction, Trace Tracking, Chemical Analysis]

  [Summon Cost: Free (This time)]

  [Note: This guy is high-maintenance, especially when nicotine withdrawal hits.]

  John took a deep breath.

  Holmes. The legendary detective. If even he couldn't find it, the cat had probably turned into a quantum state.

  "Summon."

  John pressed the button.

  [Message from Singularity]

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