Aberrant Demon?

"Diss!" "Yes." That sensation of one's heart leaping into one's throat turned out not to be an exaggeration at all. Karen was experiencing it right now. Just as he had stared at that childish drawing, recognized the murderer's identity, and gasped the name aloud in shock, the "murderer" had already been standing in the doorway for who knew how long, and had even replied with a calm: "Yes." That faint, soft syllable detonated in Karen's ears like a sudden clap of thunder. Sitting on the spring bed, Karen's spine snapped rigid in an instant, and he stood up at once. At the same time, he snapped the notebook shut. "Were you calling for me just now?" Diss asked. "I... yes. There was something I needed to discuss." Diss nodded. "I was looking for you as well." "Haha, what a coincidence, Grandfather." "Come to my study." "Right away, Grandfather." Diss turned and walked away. The moment he heard the study door click open, Karen ripped the page out of the notebook and crumpled it into a ball. Glancing at the glass of milk and the glass of water on the desk, he ultimately stuffed the paper ball into his pocket, abandoning any thought of swallowing it. Leaving the bedroom, Karen walked into Diss's study. The furnishings differed little from any ordinary study, bearing nothing lavish or peculiar. The chandelier in the center of the ceiling was brightly lit. Yet Karen remembered that on that night, Diss had lit candles in here. Diss was seated behind the desk. Karen pulled up a chair and took a seat just as naturally—or at least, he appeared natural. For now, Karen could only set the matter of that drawing to the back of his mind. To begin with, he had no emotional attachment to those "parents." In fact, even in the original Karen's memories, impressions of his parents were nearly blurred into nothing. Therefore, whether Karen's parents had truly died by Diss's hand, as depicted in the drawing, did not touch upon any fundamental issue for him personally. More importantly, his immediate priority was to stay alive. "Will you speak first, or shall I?" Diss asked. "You first, Grandfather." "Your uncle spoke to me about what happened today, including the new position he wants to arrange for you at the company. You've become so outgoing now—you can even counsel others in their sorrow?" Karen replied, "It's precisely because I lived in gloom for so long that I learned how to listen and console." "Are you willing to do this kind of work?" "I am." "Why?" "Because I am a member of the Inmeles family. If I have the ability, I want to help the household—not just the family business, but the family members. My... family." "A deacon's position recently opened up at Mink Street Church. If you wish to help and guide others, that position is actually far more suitable." "I don't want to serve as a church deacon." "Oh? Why?" "I want to do things in my own right, not... in the name of God." "Is there a difference?" "A very big one." "Where does the difference lie?" "I believe the bond between family is innate, not a gift from God. Nor do family members require God to grease the wheels between them." "Go on." "Uncle Mason needs money, Aunt Mary needs money, and Aunt Winnie needs money after her divorce." "The family does not lack money." "But the family isn't wealthy enough." "I don't particularly wish for my children to devote their entire lives to chasing money. Wealth can never be fully amassed, and life holds far more meaningful pursuits." "Yet most meaningful pursuits are terribly hard to realize without sufficient money." Diss fell silent, so Karen held his tongue as well. After a long while, Diss broke the silence. "Do you love money so much?" "Grandfather, as I said, Uncle, Aunt, Aunt Winnie, and the growing Mina, Lunt, and Chris—they all need money. What my family needs is what I will fight to obtain." Diss reached out toward the teacup on the desk. Karen stood up and took the thermos from beside the corner of the desk. "Grandfather, would you like fresh tea leaves?" Diss shook his head. Karen poured in hot water, set the thermos down, and sat back down. "Do you think you can earn all the money you need and desire through this alone? I know you made twenty thousand lubi today. In fact, I am quite curious why that gentleman was willing to pay such an exorbitant fee." "Because he recognized its worth." "That is precisely the issue. Those who recognize worth are always in the minority. And those who recognize it while also possessing the wealth and generosity to spend freely are rarer still." "I'll think of other ways. I believe I can manage." "Very well." Diss took a sip of tea. "Now, tell me what you wanted to discuss." "Grandfather, I want to resume my studies." "Oh? You want to go back to school?" "Yes, Grandfather." "You just said you wanted to work for the household and earn money for the family." "I don't need to attend classes every day. I can help out at home while teaching myself, but I'll need your help in arranging my academic registration." "Do you still intend to take the university entrance examinations?" "That is my plan." "Where do you plan to study?" "St. John's University in the Kingdom of Vien. I hear it is an exceptional university, renowned worldwide." "Indeed, that is universally acknowledged. But do you think you can attend university there?" "I believe that as long as I study diligently and work hard..." "No, no, no." Diss cut Karen off. "You misunderstand my meaning." "What do you mean, Grandfather?" "I'm old. When one gets old, one prefers peace and stability. One likes having one's children gathered around." Karen froze. In his original plan, going to another country for university would have been an ideal way to handle their relationship. *You know I'm not your grandson.* *You also know that I know you know I'm not your grandson.* *I would have departed Rojia City and left Ruilan under a perfectly legitimate pretext.* *To my mind, I would finally be free of this family. I would be... free.* *To your mind, your grandson would still be alive, living far away, pursuing his studies. Distance lends itself to fond illusions.* *Wouldn't that be wonderful for both of us?* Diss took another sip of tea. "I wouldn't feel at ease with you traveling far." "But Grandfather... I'm grown up now. According to the customs of Rojia City, turning fifteen makes me an adult." "In my eyes, you are still a child. Unless..." "Unless what?" "Unless... I die." *Before I die, don't even think about leaving this family.* *Of course, you could choose to run away. But you are welcome to try.* Karen parted his lips slightly and drew a breath. Then, the stiff tension on his face softened back into a warm expression. He rose to his feet and smiled. "Actually, I can't bear to leave you either, Grandfather. Being able to stay by your side has always been my greatest blessing." Diss nodded and glanced toward the study door, signaling that the conversation was over and he could leave. Karen turned around. The genial smile vanished, replaced by solemn gravity. As Karen reached the door of the study, Diss's voice drifted from behind him: "By the way." Karen spun back around at once, his smile returning. "Yes, Grandfather? Is there something else?" "A notice came from the hospital saying he's awake. I have business at the church tomorrow, so go visit Mr. Hoffen on my behalf." "Of course, Grandfather. Thank heavens, God bless him—Mr. Hoffen is finally out of danger." "Yes. Get some rest early." "You too, Grandfather." ... Karen returned to the bedroom. Lunt, having already washed up, was lying on his spring bed preparing to sleep. Seeing Karen come in, he sat up immediately to remind him: "Brother, Mother told me to remind you to eat your late-night snack." "Right, I know." Karen noticed three hundred lubi pressed beneath the glass of milk. Closing his eyes, and opening them again, Karen opened the drawer, pulled out a thousand lubi, combined it with the three hundred, and walked over to Lunt. "Brother... I can't take your money." "Hold out your hand." "Brother..." "Hold it out!" Lunt held out his hand. Karen placed the one thousand three hundred lubi into Lunt's palm, then leaned down until his face was close to Lunt's, enunciating each word: "You are not allowed to disobey." Lunt pressed his lips together and ultimately nodded. Straightening up, Karen suddenly realized that taking out the frustration stirred up by Diss on Lunt was thoroughly inappropriate. He reached out, patted Lunt's head gently, and comforted him: "Your brother can earn money. I won't miss your pocket money. Just don't let your mother know, and don't waste it on nonsense, either." "Yes, Lunt understands. Lunt will listen to Brother." "Go to sleep." "Good night, Brother." "Good night." Karen sat back down before the desk beneath the glow of the lamp. He pulled the crumpled ball of paper from his pocket and tried to smooth it out, but after opening it halfway, he balled it up once more. He raised the milk and drained it in a single gulp. Immediately after, he dropped the paper ball into the glass of water, picked up a spoon, and mashed the paper to pulp inside the glass. Having done that, Karen propped his forehead in his hand, his grandfather's words echoing in his mind: *"I wouldn't feel at ease with you traveling far... unless I die."* *Just when are you going to...* "Hah." With a helpless sigh, Karen picked up the bread from the desk and took a huge bite. He couldn't bring himself to utter such a curse after all. Even though Diss had once wanted to kill him—and probably still did—he hadn't actually done so yet. Before Diss killed him, Karen was eating his food, drinking his drink, using his belongings, and living in his house; he really didn't have the face to harbor resentment. What else could he do? Karen spread his hands. "May Grandfather live to a hundred." If Diss wouldn't let him leave, then he could only pray for Diss's longevity. Because Diss's words held another implication; just as Ron had said, he intended to spend his very last lubi before dying. If one day Diss suddenly took ill and felt his days were numbered, then before he departed... Karen licked his lips, and laughed dryly at himself: "He'd probably take me with him." ... In the study. The black cat, Purr, strutted across the desk. "Every other breath about earning money for the family, never straying three sentences from family this and family that. How touching, how heartwarming! Diss, have you been bewitched by him? "He's just hiding behind this so-called family status! He's just trying to use this supposed affection to tie your hands! He's only saying these things to save his own skin! "What, Diss, can it be that you actually believe his words? Or are you merely deceiving yourself?" Diss sat there in silence. Purr continued pacing back and forth across the desk with elegant feline strides: "Look at you, look at you! Is this still our Lord Inquisitor Diss? "Our Lord Diss has truly grown old, it seems, clinging to sentimental attachment and forgetting his duty. "Diss, have you forgotten how you killed your own son and daughter-in-law back then? Why is it that now, faced with a grandson, you can't bring yourself to strike? And you have more than one grandson, don't you!" Diss's gaze finally settled upon Purr. Under that stare, Purr retreated a few delicate pawsteps. Then, Diss spoke: "Order... Cage." Black patterns radiated from Diss's body, enveloping the desk area in an instant, cutting it off from the rest of the world. "Diss, what are you doing? Don't be rash! I'm waking you up! I'm warning you! I'm trying to help you!" Diss's hand came straight down upon Purr's back, pressing downward. "Aaaagh! Aaargh!" Purr shrieked in agony. Soon, the screams degraded into cat yowls: "Meoowww!" Watching Purr writhe under the excruciating torment beneath his palm, Diss remained entirely expressionless. He merely asked in a flat tone: "Are you trying to teach me how to do things?" ... There was no business for the family today, and Mina, Lunt, and Chris had all gone to school. Karen finished the breakfast Aunt Winnie had prepared, and upon heading down to the ground floor, he saw Paul and Ron sitting in the flowerbed, chatting. "Good morning, Young Master Karen." "Good morning, Young Master." Ron was exceptionally warm, all thanks to yesterday's five hundred lubi. Karen asked Paul, "Do we need to take the carriage out today?" Paul shook his head. "No calls yet." Ron chimed in, "I'd say today is going to be a nice, relaxing day. Mr. Mason and Mrs. Mary haven't even gotten out of bed yet." Uncle and Aunt were taking advantage of the lack of business to sleep in. "Paul, could you drive me to the hospital? I need to visit Mr. Hoffen on Grandfather's behalf." "Of course, Young Master." Using the Inmeles family's vehicle for personal trips elsewhere was rather awkward, but taking it to a place like a hospital was perfectly appropriate. Stepping back into the hearse that brought misery to living and dead alike, Karen sat down on a cushion and sighed: "We really ought to get a new hearse." This one was a converted vehicle after all. A proper hearse had a recessed groove in the middle to secure the casket, fixed seating and handrails on both sides, and far more space. "Mr. Mason has wanted to replace it for a long time, but Mrs. Winnie won't agree." Paul started the vehicle, and the hearse began rolling down Mink Street. "Paul, turn over that way and drive past the row houses ahead." "Understood, Young Master." Yet just as Paul turned onto that street, Karen changed his mind: "Forget it, Paul, turn back. Let's head straight to the hospital without the detour." "Alright, Young Master." Paul showed not the slightest hint of impatience. His temperament was indeed far better than Ron's—though of course, if you tipped Ron, he would instantly become just as enthusiastic. Karen had originally intended to pass by the home of Uncle's first love to glance at the second-floor window, but on second thought, Grandfather wasn't in the carriage with him. For safety's sake, he abandoned the notion. About ten minutes later, Paul pulled into the hospital parking lot. "Young Master, I'll wait for you here." "Alright." Karen got out and walked toward the inpatient building. Only when he climbed the steps did he realize he was visiting a sick man without having brought any fruit. Should he go back out to buy some fruit or a bouquet of flowers? After a moment's hesitation, Karen decided it was too much hassle. Forget it. "Hello, could you tell me which room Mr. Hoffen is in?" "Mr. Hoffen? Please wait a moment, I'll check the records for you." "Thank you." "You're welcome." The young nurse at the reception desk flipped through the ward's patient roster. As she searched, she kept glancing up to examine Karen, the corners of her mouth curving into a slight smile. Karen maintained a polite smile, waiting patiently. Since he had inherited such a handsome face, he had no choice but to endure the petty annoyances that came with it. Alas. For instance, this young nurse was deliberately checking at a snail's pace just to look at him a little longer. Finally: "Found it. Mr. Hoffen is in Room 301, Bed 2." "Thank you." "Would you like me to show you the way?" "No need, thank you." Karen climbed the stairs to the third floor. Room 301 was right by the stairwell, right there as soon as he reached the landing. Pushing the door open, he saw two hospital beds inside. Mr. Hoffen lay on one, while on the other, a middle-aged woman in a caregiver's uniform was sound asleep, snoring softly. She hadn't even noticed Karen opening the door. A caregiver slacking off. Karen moved forward to wake her, when Mr. Hoffen's voice drifted over: "She works three jobs. She's exhausted. Let her sleep a while longer." Karen turned around to look at Mr. Hoffen lying in bed. His head was wrapped in bandages. Before Karen walked in, he had apparently been reading a newspaper, so his recovery seemed decent. "I heard you were awake, so I came to visit right away." Empty-handed, Karen took a seat beside the bed. A sneer touched the corner of Mr. Hoffen's mouth. "Disappointed I didn't plunge to my death?" Karen shook his head and said frankly, "Had I wished it, you probably wouldn't have reached the hospital alive." Mr. Hoffen frowned slightly, looking puzzled. "What, you aren't even bothering to act anymore?" "What is there to act? I am Karen. It's just that my recent illness brought about quite a change in me. After all, nearly dying of sickness tends to alter a person's temperament. That's only natural, isn't it?" "I'm truly curious why Diss still lets you live." "I am Grandfather's grandson. There's really no point in talking like that." "Don't you know what you truly are?" "I've said it already. I am Karen." Mr. Hoffen lifted his chin, revealing the crucifix necklace around his neck. "Take it off." "Alright." Karen reached out and unfastened the crucifix necklace from Mr. Hoffen's neck. Mr. Hoffen stared at Karen and said: "I will show you right now what you truly are." "As expected of a philosophy professor. Actually, I would be delighted to discuss philosophy with you." "Grip it!" "What?" "Grip the crucifix in your hand!" Karen looked down at the crucifix necklace hanging from his fingers, freshly taken from Mr. Hoffen's neck, and did not move. "What, you don't dare?" "No." "Then grip it! As long as you grip it, you will see clearly what kind of thing you truly are." "Mr. Hoffen, divination is fine as a personal hobby, but getting too obsessed with it really isn't good. It affects your real life." "If you are that thing, the moment you willingly grip it, your soul will thereupon be annihilated." "Are you telling a story?" "Yes! So grip it, and play along so I can finish the story!" Karen hesitated. "What are you hesitating for? Grip it! What, are you lying even to yourself? Heheh, I don't know why Diss still lets you live. Perhaps he's grown old too, so old that..." Mr. Hoffen's eyes suddenly went wide. Right before his eyes, Karen, seated before him, closed his left hand around the crucifix. One second. Three seconds. Ten seconds. Half a minute. After gripping the crucifix, Karen remained completely motionless. Mr. Hoffen propped his hands against the bed, struggling to haul himself up, but right then, Karen suddenly leaned forward and barked, "Hah!" "Aagh!" Startled out of his wits, Mr. Hoffen lost his balance and tumbled back onto the bed, his eyes still fixed on Karen in sheer disbelief. Karen tossed the crucifix necklace onto the pillow beside Mr. Hoffen, spread his arms, and spun around on the spot. "Didn't you say my soul would be annihilated? Look at me—how am I completely fine?" "Impossible... That's impossible!" Mr. Hoffen began muttering frantically to himself. "Get some good rest. I'll come visit you again in a while. I hope by then, things up here will be working a bit more normally." With that, Karen tapped his forehead. "Goodbye, Mr. Hoffen." Having said his piece, Karen walked out of the ward. *His soul wasn't annihilated by the purifying implement...* *Could I have been wrong?* *Is he truly not an aberrant demon?* ... As he walked down the stairs, the young nurse at the reception desk offered Karen a sweet smile, and Karen returned it with a polite smile of his own. Leaving the inpatient building, he walked down the steps. Instead of heading straight to the parking lot to find Paul, Karen went to a secluded corner of the hospital garden. He squatted down, clapped his right hand over his mouth, and shook his left arm like mad. "Fuck... that hurts like hell!" After a frantic bout of shaking, Karen finally stopped. He brought his left hand before his eyes and slowly opened his palm. On the skin of his left palm, a cross-shaped burn scar sat vividly etched. Yet the wound appeared cauterized, leaving not a single drop of blood to seep out. Staring at the branded burn, Karen sank into deep thought. After a long while, he murmured a question to himself: "So... what the hell am I, anyway?"