Bloodthirsty Aberrant Demon!

"The people in the Whip of Order are as short-sighted as herrings stuffed in a tin can!" Alfred couldn't help cursing after hearing Karen's account. "Actually, it's quite nice this way. All I have to do is act like I consider myself one of the Whip of Order. If something comes up later, it might even provide a convenient explanation." "Young Master is always so farsighted." "All right, we can head back to the funeral parlor. This time, I don't need to wear a mask. You have no idea how awkward it felt chatting with Mrs. Lake every day wearing Mr. Pavaro's face. Well, Mrs. Lake must have felt even more awkward." "Understood, Young Master." The secondhand black Ponce drove along the road. As it passed a street, traffic was jammed by a crowd holding a rally up ahead, forcing Alfred to stop the car and wait. Karen remembered that on his first day arriving in York City, when he took a carriage from the docks to Allen Manor, Madam Jenny had mentioned that rallies and parades in York City were like cultural and sporting activities—commonplace as could be. After waiting a moment, the cars ahead began moving. Alfred restarted the car and drove forward for a bit. Karen spotted a group marching along the roadside. They wore white robes with high, pointed white hoods completely covering their heads, leaving only two small holes cut out for the eyes. Instead of placards, they carried torches. They weren't chanting slogans in unison either, but simply marching along in quiet calm. Karen murmured in puzzlement, "They don't look like church folk." Although it carried heavy religious overtones to ordinary people, Karen, being an insider, could clearly tell this was definitely not an orthodox church organizing a parade. "Indeed, they don't look like a church. It seems more like some interest club. Young Master, would you like me to look into it?" "If you have time, you can look into them. Once you drop me off at the funeral parlor, head over to Lemar Pottery Studio first to settle the bill for the last batch of blood spirit powder. Also, if Lemar has received new stock, buy some more blood spirit powder to keep on hand. "After that, go to the black market and buy two scrolls for Purr and Kevin. "Once all that is done, you can investigate this club." "Understood, Young Master." "Oh, right." Karen placed the ring he had accidentally snapped in two into the tray beside the handbrake. "Remember to glue this back together." "I will, Young Master." The car pulled up in front of the Pavaro Funeral Parlor. Karen got out, waved to Alfred, and walked inside. Alfred picked up the split Whip of Order ring, chuckling to himself, "The Whip of Order nowadays really is made of plastic." … The shop was the same as ever: Pike sat in his chair daydreaming, while Dinkum was reading a book. Truth be told, Karen's dissatisfaction with the two of them had been brewing for quite some time. If previously it was merely because they were somewhat lazy, then last night, when he drove Mrs. Lake back and found they had left the boss's two sick daughters alone at home while clocking out early, it was no longer just a matter of laziness. Karen understood their mindset: Mr. Pavaro had remained a Seventh-Class Inquisitor for so long that they believed there was no future in following him, so they simply slacked off. Understanding was one thing, but that didn't mean Karen was willing to indulge them. When Karen appeared in the shop, Pike was the first to look up, his eyes widening; Dinkum followed, looking up at Karen, his mouth falling open in astonishment. "Is Mr. Pavaro in?" Karen asked. Pike and Dinkum immediately scrambled to their feet. "M-My Lord." Dinkum reacted faster and quickly added, "My Lord, the boss went out on official business. Were you looking for him?" He couldn't say outright that the boss went out to do side gigs, knowing that his boss took on jobs not just from the Church of Order, but from other churches as well. Karen smiled, pulled out his God's Servant credential, and tossed it to Dinkum. Pike leaned over to look as well. "I'm the God's Servant reporting for duty. From now on, I'm just like you two. Please look after me." "H-How is that possible!" Pike gasped in disbelief. Dinkum stared dumbfounded at the credential, then up at Karen. "My Lord... is this real?" "It's real. From now on, I'm also an employee of this funeral parlor. You two have been here longer than me, so you are my seniors." "Really?" Pike asked. Dinkum hastily bowed as he handed the credential back to Karen, saying repeatedly, "We wouldn't dare, we wouldn't dare!" "Heh." Karen chuckled, glanced at the floor and the walls, and said, "A lot has happened in Blue Bridge Community recently. Although it's resolved, the higher-ups place great importance on this area. So moving forward, the operation of the Blue Bridge Community Inquisition office will be somewhat different from other places. "Mr. Pavaro already knows about this arrangement. I'm not sure if he gave you instructions before he left." "Yes, yes, we knew a newcomer... oh no, an esteemed lord was coming, but we never expected it to be you in person," Dinkum said fawningly. "Mm-mm-mm." Pike nodded repeatedly. Earlier, they had promised their boss they would properly educate the rookie and teach him the ropes; now, of course, they didn't dare entertain such thoughts for a second. "The floor is too filthy, and the walls are dirty too. I'm a bit of a neat freak and can't stand messy environments—just like how I can't tolerate sand in my eyes." "Rest assured, sir, we'll clean it right away!" "We'll start cleaning immediately!" Karen continued, "I don't know how Mr. Pavaro ran this place before, but now that I'm here, everything must conform to my thoughts and standards. "The next time I see the two of you sitting around idle, I hope there truly is nothing left to do. If I find unfinished tasks or shoddy work, I will begin to question the sincerity of your faith in the God of Order." These words sent a chill down the spines of both Dinkum and Pike. They might not care about performance evaluations anymore, but they certainly cared about their lives. Within the church, having one's faith in God questioned carried grave consequences. "Get to work." "Yes, sir!" "Understood!" The two lazy assistants immediately sprang into action. Karen walked into the backyard. In the workshop, he saw Mrs. Lake sitting on a chair, packing her cosmetics box. When she saw Karen enter, she froze for a moment, then stood up immediately and asked, "Did something happen to my husband again?" Only after asking did she suddenly realize that her husband was already dead. Yet she grew nervous again right away—had something happened to *him*? "Bring a glass of ice water to my study." Leaving those words behind, Karen stepped into the study. The study had been rearranged again: there was an added floor lamp, the wardrobe had been moved out and replaced with a bookshelf, and a new rug lay on the floor. Karen sat down behind the desk, picked up Mr. Pavaro's work journal, and continued reading through it. Before long, Mrs. Lake pushed open the door and entered with a tray. First, she set the ice water before Karen, followed by a large sandwich slathered with sauce! No longer acting as her "husband," Karen finally said with a direct smile, "Actually, I'm not very fond of this sauce." "I'm sorry. I'll use a different one next time." "Mm, some biscuits next time will be plenty. No need to go through so much trouble." "All right, I'll keep that in mind." Karen picked up the water glass and took a sip. "Are... are you really... really you?" It sounded like a tongue twister. "It's me." "I find it hard to believe my husband's friend... would be you..." "There are things I can't easily explain for now, but didn't we come to an understanding a couple of days ago?" "Yes, yes, I understand. Everything here is up to you." "Mm." Mrs. Lake walked out of the study. Karen lit a cigarette, balanced it filter-down over the ashtray as usual, and returned to the work journal. Once again, he lost track of time. Only when he turned the last page of the volume in hand did Karen reach up to massage his neck. Leaning back against the chair, he surveyed the study and let out a long breath. Then he picked up a pen, opened an unfinished notebook, and wrote: "1. Learn [Sea God's Armor] and [Dark Moon Blade]. 2. Comprehend the judicial meaning of an Inquisitor and attain advancement. 3. Kill Viclay." These three were his near-term goals. The first was in progress—Alfred had gone to buy scrolls, and until the spell scrolls were ready, there was no rushing it. The second couldn't be rushed either. As for the third, rushing was useless before the first two were accomplished. So, he could finally take a breather. Karen closed his eyes and began to rest with a clear conscience. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in." Mrs. Lake opened the door and stood at the entrance, asking, "A call came in with business. Pike and Dinkum begged me to ask if you'd like to go?" "I'll go." Karen agreed without hesitation. To his mind, nothing offered a better way to unwind and relax than driving a hearse out on a job. Karen walked into the storefront and found it transformed. The floor and walls had been meticulously scrubbed, and the greasy grimy feel from when he first visited a few days ago was mostly gone. By now, Dinkum and Pike had prepared the gurney, and the hearse had been driven out. Seeing Karen walking over, Dinkum immediately vacated the driver's seat. Karen got in and asked, "Where are we picking up the client?" "My Lord, it's Redwood Apartments." Karen remembered where Redwood Apartments was. It wasn't far from Allen Apartments where he lived; Alfred had passed by it every day when driving him to work at the clinic. It was an older apartment complex with some years on it. "You can just call me Boss from now on. No need for 'My Lord.'" "Yes, My Lord," said Pike. "Yes, Boss," said Dinkum. Karen drove while Pike and Dinkum sat in the back. Both looked thoroughly exhausted—while Karen had read for nearly half a day, the two had cleaned nonstop without a single break. Yet their faces were flushed, indicating they were still in a state of high agitation. "Who called?" Karen asked. "A man. He said his wife passed away and wanted us to collect the body." "Did you tell him we need a death certificate from the hospital?" "I did, and he said he had one." "Good." There was a guard booth at the front gate of the old apartment compound, but sitting inside were two white-haired elders. Facing them, Karen didn't even dare honk the horn, afraid that a single honk might send the two of them straight to the grave. Pike and Dinkum got out first and pulled open the gate. Karen drove the hearse inside and parked in front of Building C. Pike and Dinkum jogged over, and Dinkum said, "Boss, it's on the seventh floor, Unit 702." Climbing seven floors was rather tiring, especially since Pike and Dinkum were carrying the gurney. By the time they reached the top, both were panting for breath. Standing before the door of Unit 702, Karen originally intended to ring the bell, only to find the doorbell had fallen off long ago, leaving behind only a rusty spot on the door. He had no choice but to knock. *Knock...* The door wasn't locked; it swung open at a single tap. "Hello, we're from Pavaro Funeral Parlor." As he called out, Karen felt the name didn't roll off the tongue smoothly. The funeral parlor's name would have to be changed eventually. "Hello? Anyone home? We're from the funeral parlor answering your call." Karen stood at the entrance calling inside for a while, but there was still no answer. At the same time, Karen seemed to catch a faint scent of blood, though he couldn't be sure. "Boss, why don't we go in and take a look?" Dinkum suggested. Karen nodded and stepped aside from the doorway. Dinkum and Pike entered first, followed by Karen. The furniture inside was also dated, though kept quite clean. It was a two-bedroom layout with a living room. No one was in the living room, though fruit was set out on the table; no one was in the kitchen, and the pots and bowls were neatly arranged. "Hello?" Karen tried calling out once more. Dinkum opened one bedroom door; no one was inside. Pike opened the other bedroom door; it was empty as well. Only the bathroom was left, situated not far behind Karen, but he didn't turn around to check it. At this point, Pike said in a low voice, "I need to use the toilet. I can't hold it." Karen looked at Dinkum instead. Dinkum seemed to anticipate Karen's question and immediately said, "I made him repeat the address twice, and I repeated it back to him once more to make sure. It's definitely this address." "Go ahead," Karen waved a hand at Pike. "Thank you, Boss." Pike hurried into the bathroom. When someone truly stood in awe of you, even permission to take a piss warranted heartfelt gratitude. "The family member was a man?" Karen continued asking Dinkum, though his eyes remained fixed on Pike heading for the bathroom. "Yes, Boss, the 'client's' husband." "Aaaagh—!!!" Pike, having stepped into the bathroom, let out a piercing shriek. Mentally chanting an incantation, Karen hurried toward the bathroom alongside Dinkum. Pike's screaming continued, weakening in volume without changing pitch, proving he was merely terrified rather than under attack. When Karen entered the bathroom, he saw Pike collapsed on the floor, his fly still undone; and behind the bathtub curtain, a woman pinned to the wall by a silver nail. Two fangs protruded from the corners of the woman's mouth, her fingernails excessively long and black, her face frozen in a hideous snarl at the moment of death. "A bloodthirsty aberrant demon!"