The First Patient

Dinner was brought back by Alfred on his way home: griddle cakes, roast chicken, and vegetable salad. It had to be said that Alfred truly understood his young master's tastes, refraining from buying cream-filled bread with roast meat. Still, for Karen, the casual bite he was more accustomed to throwing together would have been pig's head meat, braised beef, peanuts, and cold tossed side dishes. Even if such a spread could be found out here, though, the flavor would differ drastically. Everyone sat down together to eat. Karen reminded Xili, "The cat and dog in this house are to be treated like human beings." Alfred explained, "The cat needs a cup of coffee every morning and afternoon. If we aren't home at noon, you need to prepare meals for the cat—make them as refined as possible. Afternoon tea and a daily platter of fresh fruit are non-negotiable. "As for the dog... when you prepare the cat's portions, prepare something for the dog too while you're at it. A step down from the cat's standard will do." "Woof!" the golden retriever let out a disgruntled bark. Purr was secretly delighted at first, but then jolted in alarm: *Not good, the radio goblin is sowing discord in our alliance!* Karen had always been generous when it came to caring for Purr and Kevin. As for other matters, such as Xili's salary and benefits, Karen didn't ask; he trusted Alfred to make proper arrangements. With his own base salary of ten thousand riels a month, and commission cuts that would only be higher rather than lower, he could easily afford to hire several more maids. After all, this was York City, one of the most prosperous cities in the world, teeming with wealthy people suffering from "imaginary ailments." After a quick bite, Karen returned to the second floor and lay in bed reading the newspaper. The house's heating wouldn't be turned back on until tomorrow, and after nightfall, nowhere was cozier than under the blankets. Without needing to be told, the golden retriever trotted over with the newspaper in its mouth and switched on the radio. Karen began reading the paper. He liked reading the *Wien Daily* because it wasn't a narrow regional paper. Though it dedicated some columns to Wien's domestic news, most of its coverage looked outward; it could well be called an international gazette. In other words, as an empire possessing vast colonies, major domestic events in Wien were already a variety of "international news." After attending a succession of coronation ceremonies, the King of York had been hospitalized. A faint smile touched the corners of Karen's lips. For an elderly person, the scariest thing was change. Continuing along their established momentum, an old person might live a long time, but if they insisted on overexerting themselves—even if the exertion was aimed at benefiting their physical and mental health—it could easily bring things to an early end. People were like this, nations were like this... and perhaps even churches were like this. *"A rebel army has emerged in the Kotak region, attacking a town and establishing a provisional government."* The Kotak region was on the Southern Continent, where desert terrain made up the majority. The Southern Continent had always been a colonial carving ground for empires like Wien; various empires had waged wars here, seizing land from the indigenous peoples. However, the report also pointed out that this rebel force in the Kotak region had originally intended to negotiate with the Wien government for an autonomous district and partial self-governance. But following the queen's passing, the resistance organization appeared to have received funding from other empires, abandoning peaceful measures. As Karen continued turning the pages, the bedroom door was pushed open, and Xili walked in holding a broom. "Sir, I've finished cleaning everywhere else. Let me sweep this room too." Though a bit surprised, Karen nodded. "All right." Purr quietly raised its head, fixing its gaze on Xili. Xili began to sweep. In truth, she was already regretting this. Lacking experience as a maid, it hadn't crossed her mind beforehand that coming in to sweep a bedroom at this hour was inappropriate—especially while the master of the house was lying in bed. Earlier, swept up in the hotheaded excitement of having received such a high wage and feeling obligated to work hard to repay her employer, she had completely overlooked the matter. Yet leaving right now would be even more awkward, so she could only continue sweeping. Karen watched her back as she swept the floor. *Hm?* *Was she wearing jeans this afternoon?* Especially when she bent down, the curved silhouette that pushed out—how should one put it? Not just men, even women couldn't help but steal a few extra glances. Still, Karen lifted the newspaper, blocking his line of sight. He was already engaged, and he had touched Eunice's legs; he really shouldn't let his thoughts wander while living on his own. It wasn't that "looking" was inherently a sin, but his gaze would likely put pressure on this new girl, making her overthink. Purr had been curled up by Karen's side, dozing with eyes closed. After Xili entered, it had also raised its head to watch her. As it watched, Karen's raised newspaper ended up blocking its view as well. Somewhat displeased, Purr extended a paw to push the paper down, only for Karen to pull up the blanket and tuck the cat's face right inside. Once she finished sweeping, Xili walked to the doorway and bowed to Karen. "I'm sorry, Sir. I lack experience. Next time, I'll clean during the day." "It's fine. Are you heading back soon?" "Yes." "Have Alfred drive you home." "My home isn't far from here. I can walk back on my own, no need to trouble Mr. Alfred." "It's too late right now; it isn't safe for you to head back alone. Starting tomorrow, you can go home once dinner is finished." "Yes, Sir. You're truly a good person." "Mm." Karen returned to reading the paper. Xili walked out, closing the bedroom door behind her. "I don't believe your heart wasn't itching one bit," Purr whispered. "Keeping someone like that by your side, mistakes are bound to happen." "You want to fire her?" Karen asked. "Shouldn't we at least see how tomorrow's coffee and meals turn out first?" "You make a very good point." Purr was convinced. Back then, it had been captivated by Karen's boiled fish with pickled greens and squirrel mandarin fish. Deep down, this ancient cat still retained the temperament of a spoiled young mistress. "All right, I'm going to sleep. I have to work tomorrow." *Have to work tomorrow.* *Heh, what a distant, unfamiliar, yet intensely familiar phrase.* Kevin crawled out of his dog bed, first switching off the radio and then turning off the lamp. Purr kicked its legs under the blanket, causing no further fuss, and quieted down. Karen tucked the blanket snug against his neck. "Good night." "Woof~" "Meow~" ... At six in the morning, Karen got out of bed. After washing up, he changed into the clothes he had bought yesterday and went downstairs. To Karen's slight surprise, Xili was already in the house. "Young Master, Xili came by very early and made breakfast." The breakfast was simple: buttered bread, fried eggs, small sausages, and hot milk. Karen sat down and ate his breakfast. Looking at Xili, who was already picking up a rag to start another thorough round of cleaning, he said, "When I have time one of these days, I'll teach you how to cook." "All right, Young Master. Thank you, Young Master." Karen still preferred noodles or minced pork and century egg congee for breakfast. Speaking of congee... "Alfred, remember to find some time to buy a few jars to pickle vegetables." "Young Master, I can buy them," Xili said. "All right. Get the funds from Alfred." "No need, the jars aren't expensive." "Those are the rules. Unless you don't wish to stay here, you must follow the rules," Alfred reminded her. "Yes, Sir, I understand." Walking downstairs, Alfred started the car and drove Karen to the nearby tram station. After parking, Alfred bought tickets and accompanied Karen onto the tram. Unless a traffic accident occurred ahead, taking the tram carried no risk of traffic jams. The trouble was... the tram was truly packed, even more exaggerated than squeezing onto a subway to commute in a modern metropolis in his past life. If Alfred hadn't used his own body to brace against the crowd pressing in behind them, Karen felt he would have been like a sardine in a can during transport, jostled and squeezed all the way to their destination. Thus, after getting off the tram, Karen said, "Let's drive to work from now on. I'll wake up an hour earlier to miss the morning rush." "Understood, Young Master. I believe that is a wise choice." Taking the elevator to the twenty-first floor, Karen arrived at the front desk, where the receptionist greeted him warmly. Then Bertha walked out, linking her arm familiar-as-could-be through Karen's, and first introduced him to his colleagues. Karen had no idea whether those colleagues remembered him; in any case, he didn't remember a single one. Afterward, Bertha led Karen to his office. It was a modest room, dominated by black tones, with soft lighting. Karen was very pleased with this layout. "In this box are your work uniform and name badge; wearing the uniform isn't mandatory. In addition, this phone can dial external lines, and your handset can reach the secretarial desk. If you need anything, feel free to ask them to bring it in." "All right, thank you." Bertha pressed a button on the desk phone. "Hello, please bring in a glass of iced water." "Right away." Soon, a female secretary walked in carrying a glass of iced water and set it on Karen's desk. Karen sat down behind the desk and asked, "Roughly when will patients be arranged?" "No need to rush. Normal visits require an appointment. I will confirm the time slot with you at least one day in advance." "And today?" Karen asked. "I have nothing to do today?" Bertha smiled. "Barring any surprises, yes. There's one more thing to remind you of: you don't need to come in this early in the future. Just arriving by your scheduled appointment time is fine. Since your physician points tier is as high as the boss's, you enjoy the same degree of freedom as the boss." "All right, I understand. But I'd still prefer it if you could arrange a patient for me as soon as possible." Karen shrugged and continued, "After all, I don't want to sit here collecting a paycheck for doing nothing." Living on just the base salary seemed a bit tight. Karen wanted to earn more money so he could wire it to his uncle to pay off the mortgage early. "In that case, there is a client who would be very suitable for you. I can arrange it for you." "All right." "The client can come over in about half an hour. Does that work for you?" "That works." Bertha walked out of Karen's office. Karen placed both hands on the chair's armrests, looking at the desk before him. Through the slats of the blinds, he could see the people working in the cubicles outside. This feeling was familiar—intensely familiar. In his past life, this was exactly how he had worked. Opening the drawer, he found only a few blank notebooks and sheets of document paper. *A revolver ought to be kept inside.* Although Alfred sat in the waiting lounge while he was on the job, he was, after all, sitting in the waiting lounge. Karen raised his finger, giving it a gentle wave before him. Fortunately, he wasn't entirely defenseless now; no matter what, a Spear of Punishment could still blow something to pieces. The only problem was that his current abilities were somewhat extreme: either piling up a turtle shell or detonating a single burst. He couldn't manage the effortless composure of his grandfather. Of course, Karen didn't harbor the fantasy of instantly becoming like his grandfather. But according to the progression of the Church of Order, only upon reaching the rank of Inquisitor could one truly be considered capable of fighting. He still had a long way to go. God's Revelation had already been attained; the next step was God's Shepherd. Karen took out a blank notebook, drew a large water vat on it, and then drew a very thin pipe. His current problem was that the vat was huge and held abundant reserves, but the spout of the outlet pipe was too small. And the size of that spout was demarcated by God's Revelation, God's Shepherd, and Inquisitor. In other words, once he reached Inquisitor, his spout would finally expand to a basically functional level. At that point, relying on his vast reserves... against Inquisitors of the same tier... Even by the crudest method—where another person exhausted their strength after casting a spell three consecutive times while he could cast it more than ten times—wouldn't his advantage become glaringly obvious? Just then, a knock sounded at the office door. Karen turned the page of his notebook. He didn't want a patient seeing these sketches and assuming this psychological counselor was studying prostate problems on the clock. The door swung open, and Bertha walked in. Karen looked behind her, saw no one, and asked, "Where is the patient?" Bertha pointed at herself with a smile. "Right here. I just finished the paperwork at the front desk, so this is an official consultation. For the next two hours, you are the doctor, I am the patient, and your time belongs to me." "You aren't joking?" "No, I'm serious. From what happened yesterday, I think you could tell as well: there is something abnormal about me, and I need your diagnosis and treatment." "I apologize for the words I said to you yesterday; that was due to a misunderstanding." Bertha nodded. "Yes. Many people carry a natural misunderstanding toward us." *Toward... us?* Bertha sat down across from Karen and smiled faintly. "In truth, Light has never been in the wrong, and humanity's yearning for Light is innate." *Light?* Bertha continued, "I don't know why I chose Light. Perhaps Light chose me. I feel very proud and honored, because I am able to bathe in its radiance and feel the warmth and care it bestows upon me. "Mr. Karen, what do you think?" *What do I think?* Karen looked at Bertha. This felt entirely like his first day on the job, only for a coworker to eagerly run up to proselytize to him. If he hadn't known Piaget's identity and understood his character, Karen would have genuinely suspected he had stumbled into a cult den under any other boss. Yet she spoke of Light. Karen's thoughts traveled to the house he was currently living in, and the messenger crow Purr and the golden retriever had intercepted that night. *A remnant of the Church of Light, right in front of me?* "Is Piaget one of you as well?" Karen asked. When had Piaget come to believe in the Church of Light? "No, but he is very important to us—a turning point for the revival of Light," Bertha answered. The reason she laid her cards on the table like this was that she had presupposed Karen had already discerned her identity and that of the group behind her. "Piaget is my friend. I don't want him to be in any danger." "Of course he won't be. The boss is a good man, and a very charismatic one. Even without your reminder, I wouldn't harm him. But according to the guidance of Light, we can await an opportunity through him." "What sort of opportunity?" "We don't know either. It might be a guidance, a direction, a sentence, or even a person. Perhaps the boss himself, or perhaps someone the boss is waiting for. "I know the boss has always been waiting for someone. A photograph of him is kept in the boss's drawer, but the boss doesn't know who he is. "We also mobilized our resources to investigate, but the population of York City is simply too vast; how could we possibly search through everyone? "Even though we found some old clues from that old photograph of the boss's, our investigation hit a dead end. Clearly, that person deliberately concealed his identity back then." "Heh." "Mr. Karen, what are you laughing at?" "I almost thought the person being waited for was me." "Hehehe." Bertha laughed as well. "You have nothing to do with Light, after all." "Of course, of course." Karen nodded, though in his mind surfaced the scenes from his purification—particularly that commanding voice: *"Order, come out and face me!"* Karen opened the box he hadn't touched earlier. Inside, besides a white work coat, was his name badge. The name inscribed on it was: Karen Silva. "Mr. Karen, I believe I have been candid enough. I am a believer of the Church of Light. Staying by the boss's side is partly because of his charisma, and partly to wait by his side for that person to appear. "What about you? "I know you and the boss are good friends. The boss said he met you during an outing in the countryside, introduced hand-in-hand by his late wife. "Yet I don't believe you chose to work here merely to see a friend. So, given my candor, can you offer me similar candor in return?" *Met on an outing through Linda?* *Then Piaget definitely didn't tell you that there was a crematorium in that countryside, and what I held in my hand was Linda's urn.* "If I told you that I was short on money, saw Piaget's clinic advertisement in the newspaper, and wanted to work here to earn a paycheck to support myself... "You wouldn't believe me, right?" "Mm-hmm." Bertha nodded. "I'm glad you don't intend to deceive me with such a clumsy lie." *Then I'll just have to come up with a different lie to fool you.* Karen smiled and nodded. Bertha added, "Still, I suspect you are also deliberately concealing your identity. Most likely, you share a situation similar to ours." Karen brought his hands before his chest, assuming a posture of impending praise, while his mind raced: *Praise Order?* *That won't do; it carries risks. I have no desire to openly tie myself to the Church of Order. Moreover, the Church of Order is an orthodox faith, hardly convenient for hiding, and wouldn't create a mutually clandestine relationship. After all, Bertha has already framed the context for me, demanding a similar predicament.* *Praise Rielsa?* *That won't work either. She might know Piaget's wife Linda belonged to the Church of the Mural God, and the 'turning point' she mentioned might even be connected to the Church of the Mural God. If I claim to be a follower of the Church of the Mural God, it would be too easy to clash and get exposed.* *Then whom should I praise?* In Karen's mind, a chubby man fond of spring rolls suddenly appeared—Mr. Oca. He recalled that on that night, Mr. Oca had confessed to using his help in facilitating the Berry religion's missionary work in Wien as a bargaining chip, getting that Berry priest to do his bidding and kill someone. And the Berry religion, due to certain historical events, was indeed ostracized by the wider circle. Even in Ruilan, they were not permitted to preach openly. This was a church that, while technically orthodox, had long suffered discrimination and suppression; in her early years, Linda had continuously disguised herself as a "Berry believer." Karen spoke: "The Goddess of Nature provided guidance: the turning point for the Berry religion's missionary growth rests upon my good friend Piaget. Thus, my mission is to protect Piaget while awaiting the arrival of that opportunity." Immediately after, Karen closed his eyes and said devoutly, "Praise Nature!"