Outside the door, having finished crying, Mrs. Lake opened her mouth repeatedly, taking silent, deep breaths. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, then pushed off the floor, got to her feet, and walked toward her daughters' bedroom.
Behind the door, Karen stood in place.
*Sigh, caught after all.*
Karen felt no disappointment. After all, they were husband and wife who had lived together for so long; it was only natural for her to notice that her husband was a "different" person.
Far from feeling disappointed, he felt a sense of relief and unburdening.
Walking over to the desk where he had eaten earlier, Karen picked up a piece of leftover bread and began weighing his options in his mind.
The status of an Inquisitor of the Church of Order—needed.
Karen broke off a small piece of bread and popped it into his mouth.
With Adams Psychological Clinic gone bust, he needed a stable source of income. So, this funeral parlor was needed as well.
Karen tore off another small piece of bread and ate it.
*Heh.*
After circling around so many times—from Mink Street in Rojia City, Ruilan, all the way to Blue Bridge Community in York City, Wien—he was actually going to run a familiar funeral business again.
It was fine. His earlier family "advanced studies" hadn't gone to waste.
The next time he called Uncle Mason, he could tell him that his nephew had expanded the family's funeral business into a branch office.
His uncle and aunt's expressions would probably be quite a sight when they heard the news. After all, they had left home back then precisely because they didn't want to stay in the funeral trade, only for their nephew to run off and end up running the family business anyway.
Pike and Dinkum, those two God's Servants...
Needed as well.
It was inconvenient for Purr and Kevin to handle errands; Xili was merely a maid; Little John was just a child with unstable abilities.
They had already run into staffing shortages earlier, forcing Alfred to check out of the hospital ahead of schedule. Karen badly needed two subordinates from within the circle right now.
Pike was honest and easy to fool.
Dinkum had a bit of petty cleverness and was easy to use.
Karen pinched off another piece of bread and put it in his mouth.
Those were the only three things he was willing to take on, yet a large chunk of bread remained in his hand. That large piece was the role of "father" and "husband."
Karen was willing to help shoulder the family responsibilities for Mr. Pavaro, such as arranging his wife's livelihood, supplying blood spirit powder for his two daughters, and paying for their subsequent medical treatment.
However, Karen was unwilling to genuinely play the role of a "father" or "husband."
Because that would be exhausting.
A mask was something you could put on and take off at will; what you put on and could never remove was called a shackle.
Karen's greatest difficulty lay in the fact that he could not openly disclose his true identity to Mrs. Lake and her two daughters. It wasn't because he feared they would report him, but because telling them directly would make it far too easy for them to give away traces in daily life.
Thinking back to that night in the basement, when Mr. Bede had killed that member of the Order squad and so casually scooped out his eyes, along with the rest of the aftermath—in this world, even the dead could "speak."
Fortunately, Mr. Pavaro's two daughters had sensed that he was not their father, and Mrs. Lake had also realized that he was not her husband.
Yet the two daughters hadn't cried or made a scene, and Mrs. Lake still pretended to treat him as her husband.
This tacit understanding was best suited for the current situation. Karen didn't know how long Pavaro's identity could serve him, so he had to be cautious about the fine details right from the start.
Putting the remaining chunk of bread back on the tray, Karen stopped. He was already full, and stuffing himself would do no good.
Picking up the damp towel from the tray, Karen first wiped his mouth, then folded it to wipe his hands.
Did Mrs. Lake normally prepare a damp towel for Mr. Pavaro when he ate? Looking at Mr. Pavaro's usual greasy demeanor, he hardly seemed like the type of man to care so much about cleanliness.
Still, Karen couldn't be bothered to figure out where the flaw had appeared. In Mrs. Lake's eyes, he was probably full of flaws from head to toe. The first time she pinched him, she would have felt that his muscular response was off, and perhaps the very first look he gave her was enough to confirm that the man before her was not her husband.
"Phew..."
Karen let out a long breath. Since she had already guessed it, there was no harm in expanding their tacit understanding a bit further, if only to save Mrs. Lake from living in constant terror.
Walking to the bedroom door, he opened it and called out,
"Pike."
"Coming, Boss!"
Pike hurried over from the front shop to the courtyard.
"Call Madam over."
"Right away, Boss."
Karen sat back down at the desk, picked up a fountain pen, uncapped it, and tapped it against his fingertips.
Suddenly, Karen couldn't help but chuckle. He truly seemed to possess no talent for acting. When he first woke up, he had been confident that his family would have to be crazy to think "Karen" had been swapped for another person.
He had been slapped in the face once in Rojia City, and now, after coming to Wien, he had been slapped in the face again.
Therefore, relying solely on Pavaro's identity might not be that safe either. The best outcome would be to launder his original identity into the fold, so that his daily work and other matters could proceed with far greater ease.
Could he do it like this?
Recruiting himself into the funeral parlor, serving as his own boss, acting as his own superior, and recruiting himself as an official God's Servant on the payroll?
Karen suddenly found the idea quite feasible.
First, he would be able to face Mrs. Lake and the two daughters much more naturally. Second, he held the status of a master from the Whip of Order in front of those two assistants, which made it far easier to keep them in check.
He could just claim he was an undercover operative sent to keep an eye on Mr. Pavaro. In any case, that sort of thing was standard business for the Whip of Order, and the two assistants had nowhere to verify it, nor would they dare to.
Still, how was he supposed to secure an official post?
Although he "hailed" from a family of Inquisitors, Diss's unique nature meant that Karen's family—and his Inquisitor grandfather—could hardly be compared to ordinary Inquisitors.
At home, he hadn't even seen a single point coupon!
He felt like a fallen scion of an official family who suddenly realized: *Wait, you actually get points deducted for running a red light?*
*One step at a time, then.*
Karen could only console himself with the thought.
The bedroom door was pushed open, and Mrs. Lake walked in. Looking at the tray on the desk, she immediately snapped, "Do you think you're a lord or something? It's bad enough I brought your meal in, and now you expect me to carry it back out for you?"
Karen leaned back slightly and said calmly, "The blood spirit powder this household needs every month—I will ensure the supply is never interrupted."
Mrs. Lake froze, her expression turning stiff.
"You..."
"I..."
"This family..."
She tried to speak several times, shifting through several different tones, but couldn't settle on the right one. The more uncertain she felt, the more flustered she became, until her eyes reddened once again with anxiety.
She was terrified of this "husband" before her. She didn't know who he truly was, and she didn't even dare think about where her real husband was right now... even though she had already guessed the outcome.
Yet she was even more terrified that her two daughters would be cut off from blood spirit powder.
On her own, there was absolutely no hope of ever obtaining blood spirit powder again. As a mother, she was willing to endure anything for her children.
"I am your husband," Karen said. "Aren't I?"
Without hesitation, Mrs. Lake nodded immediately. "Yes, you are."
Karen suddenly felt his tone hadn't been well calibrated. His original intention was to comfort Mrs. Lake, not to intimidate her.
"I had a very good friend. I don't know if I've ever mentioned him to you before, but he was a wonderful man, a responsible man, an extraordinarily upright person whom I deeply admired."
Mrs. Lake looked at Karen in astonishment. She understood who the "husband" before her was talking about. Carefully, she asked,
"Where is that friend now?"
"He has passed on."
Mrs. Lake sank onto the edge of the bed, looking as if her soul had been scooped out.
"That friend once begged me, asking that if anything happened to him, I would help look after his family. I agreed. It may require covering a portion of necessary expenses each month.
"Regarding this, Madam, you won't object to me making this decision on my own, will you?"
Mrs. Lake took a deep breath, shook her head, and then nodded. "That is the right thing to do. It is only proper. You... you did the right thing, sir."
"Good. As long as you understand, Madam. My greatest worry was that you would blame me."
"No, never. How could I?"
"Since you have agreed, Madam, I will take good care of his wife and children from now on. I will do my utmost to provide them with a stable, comfortable life."
"Thank you... No, you are doing the right thing. I fully support you, sir."
"However, I don't wish to disturb his family. As you know, Madam, I've only just been released from the prison of the Whip of Order, so my identity is somewhat awkward. I don't want my identity to bring trouble into their lives."
"They will be grateful in their hearts. They will be grateful, and they will keep the secret."
"Good."
Mrs. Lake immediately wiped away her tears and nodded. "Good, good."
"Madam, I have some business to attend to. I need to head out and won't be returning tonight."
"Yes, go ahead with your business. You have many affairs to handle." Mrs. Lake stood up.
Karen got up and walked out of the bedroom. When he reached the front shop, Pike and Dinkum both stood up and asked,
"Boss, heading out?"
"Yes, I still have matters to handle. I won't be back tonight."
"Understood, Boss," Dinkum said, nodding.
"Boss, did you let Madam know?" Pike kindly reminded him.
Just then,
Mrs. Lake's furious scolding drifted from the courtyard behind them:
"You just got back and you're leaving already?! Saying you won't be back tonight—why don't you just drop dead in that pastry shop, you old beast!"
Karen smiled.
Dinkum and Pike chuckled as well. Clearly, they were used to this dynamic between the boss and his wife.
Karen stepped out of the funeral parlor and got into Alfred's car.
"Young Master, did it go smoothly?" Alfred asked.
"Smoothly."
"Are we heading home now?"
"Yes."
"We can finally get some proper rest, Young Master."
"Yes, though I'll need to visit the funeral parlor again tomorrow morning. I should show my face more often these days to maintain a presence while waiting to be cleared."
Alfred drove into the apartment complex. After getting out of the car, Karen stretched his back.
All that remained now was to see how quickly the Church of Order handled things. He had no way of speeding them up and could only wait. Fortunately, everything he needed to do was taken care of, so he could take a good rest and regroup.
Xili happened to be coming out to take down the garbage. When she saw "Karen" walking up the stairs, she gave the dustpan in her hands a violent jerk, tossing dust everywhere as she shrieked,
"Oh, good heavens!"
Only then did Karen realize he was still wearing Mr. Pavaro's face. It was like getting a new pair of glasses—when waking up and heading out, one often forgot them at home.
Brushing the dust off his shoulder, Karen didn't blame Xili. The maid's professional tolerance was already commendable; it was Karen and his entourage who kept trampling her psychological limits time and again.
Karen smiled at Xili.
Xili flopped onto the stairs, gripping the edge of the railing with both hands, her face pale with terror. After all, she had just finished cleaning the bathroom before leaving, and had even greeted the faceless Mr. Pavaro lying there.
Karen originally intended to reach out and help her up, but seeing the advantage of her ample backside cushioning the blow on the step like an airbag, he figured she was probably unharmed.
"Mind your step on the stairs."
Offering a perfunctory reminder, Karen returned to the apartment, reverted to his own appearance, walked up to the second floor, and entered the bathroom. Another bath was in order.
"Young Master, your bath towel is laid out, and your clothes are ready."
Little John's voice came from outside the bathroom door. The boy had settled into his current role remarkably quickly, even though he had just lost his father.
When Karen finished his bath and came out, Little John asked,
"Young Master, should I bring dinner to your bedside?"
"No need."
Karen walked downstairs, entered the kitchen, and stood there for a moment.
He suddenly realized something: the reason he had enjoyed cooking back at the Inmerlais house was that life there was genuinely leisurely. Once a person grew busy, even turning on the gas stove felt like trying to move a mountain.
"Are there any pastries left at home?" Karen asked.
Lying on the second-floor stairs, Purr turned over with a resigned sigh. It seemed squirrel mandarin fish was out of the question for the foreseeable future.
"Young Master, I'll go buy some right away," Alfred offered.
"Alright, thanks."
Karen walked back up to the second floor and looked at Little John, who was standing there. "Ice water and the newspaper."
"Already placed on your nightstand, Young Master."
"Who taught you that?" Karen asked.
"Miss Purr."
"I see."
Karen nodded, entered the bedroom, and lay down on the bed. After taking two sips of ice water, he picked up the newspaper and began browsing. He wasn't sleepy right now, but he wanted to stay in this state a little longer.
After a while, Kevin trotted in, helped turn on the radio, and then curled back up in his dog bed. Purr also sauntered in and hopped onto the bed.
"Young Master, Mr. Alfred has bought the pastries. Would you like them now?" Little John asked from outside the bedroom door.
"I'm not very hungry. I'll eat them when I get up tomorrow morning."
"Very well, Young Master."
Karen set down the newspaper, reached out, and rubbed the head of Purr, who was currently resting on his stomach.
Purr lifted her head and asked, "What is it?"
"Is there any way to cleanse contamination?"
"That depends on inspecting the degree of contamination in person. Contamination like that of your father... of Karen's father and mother was something even Diss was powerless against.
"However, you must be asking about Mr. Pavaro's two daughters. There should be a way. At the very least, it can be more effective than blood spirit powder."
"Alright. In a few days, I'll take you two over to Pavaro Funeral Parlor to have a look."
"Are you taking over the funeral parlor?"
"Yes."
"Well then, I get to be a funeral parlor cat again."
"You don't like it?"
"It's quite nice. A funeral being held downstairs while I bask in the sun on the balcony—I always feel as though the radiance of human nature is flowing through me in that moment. Do you understand that feeling?"
"I do. Just like Kevin constantly fantasizing that he's not a dog, but an evil god."
*"Woof, woof, woof!"*
Purr smacked Karen's quilt with her paw in irritation, turned her head huffily, lay down, and ignored him.
"Young Master,"
Alfred's voice sounded from outside the room.
"Yes?"
"I just took a call from Boge. The Raphael family has been wiped out."
"Understood."
Karen picked up the newspaper again and continued reading.
A moment later, Purr, who had been ignoring Karen just seconds ago, quietly poked her head out from under the unfolded newspaper, staring at Karen without a word.
Karen lifted the newspaper, pushing the blocking cat head back down.
Purr wriggled out again, still saying nothing.
Karen raised the newspaper again and nudged her back.
Then came a rustling under the quilt. Purr poked her head out from beneath the covers and rested against Karen's chest.
Karen looked down at Purr and asked,
"What are you doing?"
"Just wanted to say... thank you."
"You should thank Mr. Pavaro and Ms. Annie."
Putting down the newspaper,
Karen gazed out the window directly opposite him.
"The Church moves remarkably fast."
"Because to the Church of Order, the Raphael family is like a speck of dust flicked from the shoulder."
"Heh."
Karen let out a soft laugh.
"And yet, it was merely a speck of dust, but they never bothered to flick it away before."
...
The next morning, Karen got up, washed, and came downstairs. From the pastries Alfred had bought yesterday, he selected some fried dough rings, placed them in a bowl, poured in milk, added half a spoonful of brown sugar, and stirred.
Alfred also stepped out of his bedroom.
"Would you like some?" Karen asked.
"No need, Young Master."
"I accidentally soaked too many."
"Understood, Young Master."
After finishing breakfast, the two went downstairs and got into the car. They happened to see Xili cycling into the residential compound. The maid was very dedicated to her work, arriving early and leaving late.
It was clear that she was very fond of the secondhand bicycle beneath her. Not only was it wiped spotless, but it also had a pink ribbon tied to it.
It was just that the bicycle seat was rather small. Well, the seat wasn't actually small, but in comparison, it looked remarkably tiny.
Still, seeing a maid so full of vitality toward life and so courageous toward an incomprehensible job first thing in the morning made one feel a positive contagion.
As she passed the car, Xili noticed the people inside and immediately stopped her bicycle, jogging over.
Karen rolled down the window.
"Young Master, Mr. Alfred, good morning!"
"Good morning."
After the greeting, Alfred started the car.
"Right." Karen touched the ring, and with a flash of purple light, he transformed into Pavaro's likeness. "Better put the mask on now, lest I forget when getting out of the car once we arrive."
"Young Master, for dinner tonight, should I..."
Xili turned around and ran back to ask about dinner, only to see Mr. Pavaro sitting in the passenger seat.
"...prepare it, Mr. Pavaro?!"
"Go ahead and prepare it. Thank you for your hard work."
"N-no... not at all!"
Alfred drove the car out of the residential area.
Since it was also in Blue Bridge Community, the distance was very short. Soon, the car pulled up on the street in front of the funeral parlor.
"Young Master, look over there."
"I see them."
A black sedan was parked ahead, and two people dressed in black robes stepped out of it. The clothing was clearly the "plainclothes" attire of Church of Order personnel.
Karen stepped out of the car and walked over on his own initiative.
The two noticed Karen as well, and one of them asked,
"Sir, is that Pavaro Funeral Parlor ahead?"
Karen glanced over and realized the original shop signboard couldn't be seen because the black crepe from the last funeral hadn't been taken down.
After Mr. Pavaro's incident, the family had been in a state of panic and hadn't had the heart to deal with such matters.
"Yes, that's right. May I ask what business you have here?"
The other black-robed man smiled. "The owner of this funeral parlor, Mr. Pavaro, died bravely in the line of duty. We are here on behalf of the police station to present his commendation certificate and death pension."
"Oh, really? That is truly sorrowful news," Karen said.
"No, this is a matter of great glory," the black-robed man corrected.
"Indeed." Karen immediately changed his tune. "An immense glory. Let me lead you inside; I know this funeral parlor very well."
"Haha, alright. You're quite the warmhearted man. May I ask your name?" the black-robed man asked in perfunctory courtesy.
"Oh, my name is Pavaro."
Chapter 152