Pike said, "Praise Order!"
Hearing those words, Alfred kept a calm expression and pointed at the four soda bottles arranged in a square before them. "A rigorous geometric shape possesses a natural beauty. It's truly pleasing to the eye."
Karen shook his head with a laugh. "You two are really childish. You might as well buy a box of building blocks to play with at home."
Everyone laughed, and Karen stood up to bid farewell to Pike and Dinkum.
"We're heading out."
"We're off as well. Thank you for your help."
"Thanks for lending a hand."
Karen and Alfred returned to their car.
"What a coincidence, Young Master—running into peers in our trade."
"Mm."
Not every funeral parlor had ties to the Church of Order; in fact, the proportion was exceptionally low.
However, in the Church of Order's advancement path—especially upon reaching the Inquisitor stage—the spells involved required dealing quite frequently with corpses. In addition, an Inquisitor could monitor the movements within their assigned district through corpses, so many local Inquisitors did indeed operate funeral parlors.
Rojia City had numerous funeral parlors and crematoriums, but the Inmerlais family was the only one with ties to the Church of Order.
York City's population and urban scale were more than ten times that of Rojia City, with an untold number of funeral parlors. To run straight into one connected to the Church of Order out of such a massive sample size was an uncanny stroke of luck.
Alfred turned on the car radio. After tuning it for a moment, he tapped it with his finger, and soon Dinkum and Pike's voices from the hearse ahead drifted through the speaker.
Dinkum: "You idiot! How could you just blurt out 'Praise Order' in front of outsiders?"
Pike: "I couldn't help myself, all right? Weren't you excited just now, too? Besides, what's wrong with praising Order?"
Dinkum: "Those two just now seemed very familiar with our trade. They weren't afraid of the 'guest' at all. I think they might be in the same business."
Pike: "You're overthinking it. Maybe they're doctors or butchers."
Dinkum: "Either way, you're not allowed to drop hints about your identity in front of strangers again. If the boss finds out, he'll break your legs."
Pike: "The boss is the one in trouble, not us. He's been suspended as an Inquisitor, but we're still God's Servants belonging to the Church of Order's ranks. Are you still afraid of him?"
Dinkum: "Aren't you afraid of him?"
Pike: "I am. Of course I am."
Dinkum: "Don't forget that we're God's Servants registered under him. If our suspended boss gets convicted later, we certainly won't get off clean either."
Pike: "I don't know whether the boss is clean or not, but I sure am. I even remember to return soda bottles for the deposit."
Dinkum: "We're so insignificant that nobody truly cares whether we're clean, nor are we worth investigating. All right, start driving. Now that we've picked up the 'guest,' we need to go pick up the boss. Don't keep him waiting."
Pike: "It's fine. The boss will just add more time himself."
The hearse started moving. Alfred switched off the radio and gently rubbed the space between his eyebrows.
"It's an Inquisitor of the Church of Order, without a doubt," Karen said.
Alfred said, "However, their boss—that Lord Inquisitor—appears to have been suspended. He may face internal litigation from within the Church of Order next."
"Let's follow them for a bit and see. Keep your distance."
"Yes, Young Master."
The hearse drove ahead, and Alfred followed behind, maintaining a deliberate gap rather than tailing too closely.
About a quarter of an hour later, the hearse pulled into a "pastry shop street." Pastries were displayed in front of every storefront, giving Karen a sense of deja vu reminiscent of the hair salon red-light alleys from his previous life.
After waiting about five minutes, a balding, middle-aged man emerged from one of the pastry shops with a cigarette between his fingers. Before getting into the car, he cleared his throat heavily, spat on the ground, and climbed into the hearse.
"Even if purely for the sake of public image, I think this Lord Inquisitor deserved to be suspended," Alfred remarked.
Karen looked at the shop the Inquisitor had just left. The sign read "Eva's Pastry Shop," and a slogan was posted beside the entrance: *Delighting Half Your Soul.*
Noticing Karen's gaze, Alfred pointed in that direction and explained, "Young Master, that slogan means the shop's services cannot go all the way to the final step, but everything else is allowed. That's why they call it delighting half your soul."
"Note it down."
"Yes, Young Master."
"Find some time to investigate it."
"Yes, Young Master."
The hearse started up again, and Alfred continued following. Perhaps because an Inquisitor had boarded—even a suspended one—Alfred showed him proper respect by leaving an even wider gap than before.
"Young Master, it seems they also live in the Blue Bridge Community, just on the other end from us."
"Mm."
This area also fell within the Blue Bridge Community, but Karen's apartment sat at the southern end, whereas the hearse was heading toward the northern end. Since residents of the community typically headed straight toward downtown for errands and shopping, there was little interaction between the north and south ends despite technically belonging to the same neighborhood.
The hearse pulled up in front of a shop situated at the very end of this small commercial street. It appeared to occupy two storefronts.
"These conditions are far worse than our home's," Alfred said.
Karen nodded, noting the funeral parlor's sign: "Pavaro's Home Funeral Parlor."
Naturally, a more fitting interpretation would be the Pavaro Family Funeral Parlor.
"Record the location," Karen said.
"Recorded, Young Master."
"Let's head home, then."
"Yes, Young Master."
Alfred turned the car around and drove back toward the apartment.
"Young Master, do you plan to approach them?"
"Not for now. We can leave it aside for the moment. The Allen family will deliver my new identification details soon enough. According to Purr, they can find a new channel for me to get in touch with and join the Church of Order. Once I'm a God's Servant, things will become much more convenient."
"Young Master, I can conduct a preliminary background investigation on them first."
"Will it be dangerous?"
"Well, not every Inquisitor is Old Master Diss, after all."
"Then do it when you find time."
"Understood, Young Master. I'll make time in the near future to look into Eva's Pastry Shop and the Pavaro Funeral Parlor."
"You don't need to accompany me during the day for a few days so you can investigate."
"No, protecting the young master's safety is my primary duty. I can conduct these investigations at night. Pastry shops stay open quite late, after all."
"Mm."
Upon arriving at the apartment building, Karen went upstairs first while Alfred parked the car.
When he reached the door, the golden retriever, having heard his footsteps in advance, proactively opened it from the inside.
Purr was currently sitting on the ground-floor living room sofa eating a slice of mousse cake. Seeing Karen return, the cat asked, "My dear Young Master Karen, did your job discussion go smoothly?"
"I start work tomorrow."
"Oh, thank goodness. With your earnings, this precarious household can finally keep afloat."
"By the way, remember to share information with Alfred. I don't want to serve as a messenger between the two of you."
"Are you referring to the letter? That was an oversight on my part," Purr admitted frankly. "It was also because the stupid dog and I were both exhausted after catching crows last night."
Naturally, Purr couldn't admit that it was deliberate retaliation for when Karen had fainted while attempting to awaken Count Rekar, after which Alfred had falsely claimed the young master had suffered from exhaustion because the cat had pressured and pushed him to practice spell formations ahead of time.
At present, although the Ace of Spades Organization had only held a single meeting, two distinct factions had already formed.
One was the Pet Radical Reform Faction, consisting of the household cat and dog.
The other was the Radio Conservative Faction, made up of Alfred alone.
Purr's family faith system, the God of Light's finger on its tail, the golden retriever's experience and insights regarding evil gods, and so forth allowed them to draw upon external factors and power to help Karen develop and advance.
Alfred, on the other hand, maintained that the young master was inherently a great existence and would forever remain great and correct!
Because Alfred was so radically conservative, he had pushed the cat and dog into the opposing camp of "radical reform."
"I'm going upstairs to take a bath first," Karen said, heading up. The air pollution in York City was terrible; just a brief outing left a distinct coal-smog odor in the air that felt uncomfortable without washing up.
Alfred returned home shortly after and immediately called for Purr and Kevin to examine his aura fluctuations.
The result left Alfred thoroughly satisfied, for even with their acute senses, they had to admit that the aberrant demon aura on him had grown remarkably faint, replaced instead by an aura akin to a cleric's.
"Hahahahaha!"
Alfred completely cast aside his usual dignified demeanor, planting his hands on his hips and laughing heartily.
Purr and Kevin exchanged a look, both sensing the pressure in each other's eyes. Had the Conservative Faction already grown this powerful?!
Despite their factional differences, Purr still reminded him, "Since your aberrant demon aura has faded so much, you can try some rudimentary aura-concealing spells to mask the remaining trace. That way, unless you encounter a truly powerful being, others will find it difficult to detect your identity as an aberrant demon using investigative arts."
"Yes, that's a fine suggestion. I'll go browse through Mr. Hoffen's notes right away. Praise Mr. Hoffen, and praise the young master!"
Unable to stomach the Conservative Faction's arrogant posturing, Purr hopped onto the golden retriever's back and left the ground-floor living room, muttering softly to the dog underneath, "No need to worry about his current momentum. After all, we Reformists moved first to secure the high ground through a political alliance!"
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
At this moment, the cat and dog shared a rare unity against their common rival.
After bathing and changing clothes, Karen noticed that the clothes he had taken off two days ago were still sitting unwashed in the basin.
Alfred would never come up to the second floor without being summoned, so he naturally wouldn't see the basin in the bathroom. Even if he did, Karen would feel embarrassed asking Alfred to do his laundry.
As for Purr and the golden retriever...
Karen pictured Purr scrubbing clothes with cat paws,
and the golden retriever carrying a drying pole in its jaws to hang laundry.
In short, completely unrealistic.
Back at the Inmerlais house, his aunts handled the domestic chores, and his younger cousins pitched in after school, allowing him to essentially lie back and relax.
It had been the same at the Allen Manor, where an abundance of servants meant he never had to worry about such matters.
In reality, though, he truly needed a maid now.
Alaye's wife, Jane, had bought a full set of household necessities for them, so nothing was lacking in the house.
Karen brought over a small stool, sat down, poured in laundry detergent, and began washing clothes.
While Karen possessed great patience when cooking, he couldn't help feeling a faint irritability rise within him when doing domestic chores.
He rinsed each garment in water, then soaked it in the soapy basin, like dipping small fish in flour before frying them.
After soaking, he pressed them down with his hands, transferred them to a basin of clean water to press them again, and went through two basins of fresh water. Once he confirmed that no more detergent suds were being squeezed out, the laundry was done.
There was an iron at home, and Karen knew many of his clothes required careful pressing to look their best, but he was truly too lazy to bother. He simply carried the clothes up to the rooftop terrace and hung them out to dry.
Looking at the hung laundry, Karen frowned slightly, knowing he would almost certainly forget to bring them back in.
Going back downstairs, Karen reached the ground floor.
"Alfred, go find a maid right now."
Alfred paused for a moment, thinking to himself: *Aren't we waiting for Alaye to return so we can visit an agency together?*
Yet in the next second, as if a realization had struck him, he immediately said, "Understood, Young Master. I'll go find one at once."
"Buy dinner on your way back too. We'll just have something simple tonight."
"Yes, Young Master."
Alfred picked up the car keys from the table and headed out immediately.
Karen went back to the second floor, though he didn't enter the bedroom. It was far too early to rest; if he fell asleep now, he would wake in the early hours of the morning and sit idly until dawn before heading to work.
Or would he sit outside the clinic before sunrise waiting for it to open just to give Piaget a pleasant surprise?
Entering the study, he sat behind the desk and pulled open a drawer containing several notebooks. The black notebook lay at the very bottom; while at the Allen Manor, Alfred had specially commissioned the manor staff to craft a wooden box to store it.
Karen took out the notebook, opened the wooden box, and flipped it open. Whether the elaborate process had dampened his interest or he simply had nothing to record today, he closed the notebook again and returned it to the drawer.
Rising, he walked over to the bookcase and scanned the shelves until he spotted a multi-volume novel set: *Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar*.
The author, Maurice Leblanc, was a Faxonian and a famous, great author during his lifetime.
Karen pulled out one of the volumes, sat back down behind the desk, and began to read.
Although he wasn't starting from the first volume, the stories across the volumes didn't have rigid chronological dependencies, so reading an individual installment didn't detract from the experience, even if certain characters carried over.
The plot and characterizations weren't overly intricate; it was entertaining and relaxing to read.
Compared to the realist absurdist literature Eunice frequently recommended, Karen felt that spending a leisurely afternoon reading this sort of novel was genuine relaxation and enjoyment.
Of course, what he didn't know was that his loyal servant, Alfred, had already driven back to the apparel shop where they had purchased clothes earlier.
Alfred pushed the door open. Mrs. Michelle looked at him in confusion. "Is there a quality defect with the clothes?"
"Where is she?" Alfred asked.
"Who?"
Standing here alone without the young master beside him, Alfred's demeanor and gaze naturally inspired intimidation.
"Xili. The girl with the large bottom."
"Uh, she left after delivering the yarn..."
"Go bring her back."
"This..."
"Go, now!"
"Yes, yes! Please wait a moment, I'll go right away, right away!"
Alfred stood in the shop and closed his eyes.
In truth, while trying on clothes earlier, Alfred had finished long before coming out, but hearing the young master speaking with the proprietress and another young woman, he had deliberately lingered inside before stepping out.
When he emerged, he had merely tested the waters to see if the young master wanted to hire a maid.
Who would have guessed that after returning home, the young master would urge him in person!
It was his own oversight. Though he had grasped the young master's inner thoughts, he had failed to correctly gauge the urgency of that desire.
About ten minutes later, Mrs. Michelle ran back into the shop, pulling Xili along by the hand.
"I've brought her back for you." Mrs. Michelle didn't dare meet Alfred's eyes.
Xili bowed to Alfred. "Hello, sir. Were you looking for me?"
"Come work as a maid at my master's home," Alfred said.
"Huh?" Xili was bewildered and hurried to reply, "I'm terribly sorry, but I need to do manual labor, and I have to look after my father, mother, and younger brother. I truly can't spare the time to..."
"How much do you earn a month from your labor?" Alfred asked.
Mrs. Michelle answered for her, "Fifteen hundred riels."
Xili immediately protested, "No, not that much. Usually it's seven or eight hundred riels, depending on how much work there is."
Without citizenship, she couldn't enter standard large factories and could only work in small sweatshops that hired undocumented laborers, so her income naturally couldn't compare to regular workers.
Mrs. Michelle promptly pinched Xili's waist!
"Three thousand riels a month, including three meals a day."
Xili froze. That was considerably higher than what a worker with legal citizenship made in a month.
Alfred produced his wallet, took out three thousand riels, and laid the cash before Xili.
"Will you take it?"
Xili drew a deep breath and nodded. "I will, but this is too much. I've never worked as a maid before, so I don't know if my abilities..."
"The requirements aren't demanding." Alfred's gaze glanced across Xili's hips from the corner of his eye. He felt that what had attracted the young master to this slightly dark-skinned girl was undoubtedly that feature.
Therefore, a maid uniform skirt wouldn't suit her; jeans were the right choice.
Alfred considered pulling out another stack of bills to hand to Mrs. Michelle so she could pick out several pairs of jeans for Xili, but hesitated. He was currently spending the young master's money, so he couldn't be overly lavish.
By comparison, Alfred didn't consider hiring a maid for three thousand riels an exaggeration, nor would the young master object to the price. After all, the cat at home consumed nearly that much in coffee and pastries every month.
Alfred placed the money into Xili's hands. "This is your salary for this month. In addition, you must provide your own work attire. Pick a few pairs of jeans here.
"Change into them once you've chosen, and I'll take you to the house."
"Start work today?" Xili was thoroughly surprised. This was moving far too quickly.
Mrs. Michelle immediately pulled Xili by the hand into the back. "Come, I'll help you pick out pants."
Then she whispered, "Don't be afraid. Do you have any idea what brand that manservant is wearing and how much those clothes cost? A family like that would never cheat you!"
"But this..."
*Smack!*
Michelle slapped Xili on the rear.
"Ouch..."
"Hey, see what I mean? What man could possibly resist that temptation? That handsome young master clearly isn't an exception either, but he's shy. You'd better seize this opportunity!"
...
"Oh goodness, Karen, you washed the clothes yourself!"
Sitting atop the golden retriever's back, Purr had just completed a "patrol" of the rooftop terrace and, stunned by the sight of the hanging laundry, rushed into the study to ask.
"Mm."
"My poor Young Master Karen has actually been reduced to washing clothes with his own hands." Purr wiped at nonexistent tears with a cat paw.
"Whimper... woof." The golden retriever also displayed an expression of sorrow.
Purr quickly added, "No rush. Once Eunice finishes assimilating her bloodline, we'll have her come over to be the mistress of this household and take care of you."
"No need. There will be a maid." Karen turned another page of his book as he spoke.
"Right, right, right, we do need a maid. We must find an experienced, steady, married maid with family ties and a strong sense of responsibility."
Every single adjective could have an addendum in parentheses: *elderly*.
Your dear great-great-great-great-aunt remained ever mindful of guarding your position while you slept your days away.
Just then, the ground-floor door swung open.
"Young Master, I've brought the maid back!"
Purr quickly nudged the golden retriever toward the second-floor stairwell, where they caught sight of the young girl in jeans standing beside Alfred.
Soon,
the gazes of both cat and dog locked onto that crucial area.
Purr murmured,
"Damn it, is the Conservative Faction's offensive this fierce?!"
Chapter 118