Inside Mrs. Lake's workshop:
Karen sat nearby as Mrs. Lake applied mortuary makeup to the deceased. A faint layer of black coated her body like armor—a protective blessing of Order purification Karen had bestowed upon her.
"Are aberrant demons always such dangerous creatures?" Mrs. Lake asked in a low voice. "My husband rarely spoke of such things in the past. Forgive me, I'm just curious."
"You can think of them as people who've contracted a contagious disease," Karen answered. "At least, a great deal of them are like that."
"Then Dora and Doreen... do they count as aberrant demons too?"
"If their father weren't an Inquisitor, their fate would likely have been purification—the very thorough, final kind."
"I see."
Mrs. Lake resumed her work. Karen noticed her tools might not be as fine as Aunt Mary's, but in terms of technique, she didn't fall short in the slightest.
"Ma'am, how long have you been doing this?" Karen asked.
"My maternal grandmother and my mother both did this for a living."
"Ah, so that's how it is."
Karen stood up and began examining the female corpse, which had already undergone preliminary preparation.
The first area to be addressed was always the face, since every other part could be concealed with clothing and accessories, but the face could not.
The entire purpose of a mortuary makeup artist was to allow the deceased and their loved ones to see each other for the last time. And that last look was all about the face.
The two fangs had already been extracted by Mrs. Lake and set aside on a tray. She had also filled the cavities where the teeth were pulled so that the mouth closed naturally.
The skin of the face had been drawn smooth again. Because the woman had died with such a ferocious expression, pronounced creases had remained; treated this way, her features appeared much more dignified.
In addition, her ten long, black claws had been clipped. During the funeral, when she lay in the coffin, her hands would be folded over her lower abdomen, and long black nails would look unseemly.
"The hardest part of the job is finished," Mrs. Lake said with a smile. "Next comes the makeup and the clothes."
"Mm, very efficient."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Karen reached out, picked up one of the extracted fangs, and inspected it closely. Remembering his experience snapping the ring earlier, he tried bending it with both hands. It was extremely hard.
Then, he scraped the sharp tip back and forth against the steel table, producing an ear-piercing screech. When he lifted it again, there wasn't a scratch on the tip.
Having this thing plunge into one's neck to drink blood must be agonizing.
Karen put down the fang and picked up one of the clipped black nails. The dark core felt faintly hot to the touch. Karen knew this was because a thick residue of corruption still lingered inside—put simply, the nails were packed with toxins.
All indications showed this was a fairly mature bloodthirsty aberrant demon of no small caliber.
Mr. Hoffen's notes had described low-tier bloodthirsty aberrant demons; those wretched creatures were more like living corpses driven by an instinctive obsession with blood.
"Find a dedicated box for the teeth, nails, and anything removed during the preparation. Mm, just place it right under her hands, in this position."
"Understood, sir. These things are very important to her, aren't they?"
"Yes, but more than that, it's to show we haven't stolen anything from her. These fangs and nails still hold some value."
"Like ivory?" Mrs. Lake joked.
"You could say that."
"Thank you for staying up late with me, sir."
"It's nothing. You're the one taking risks to prepare her body."
"I feel fine. Being wrapped in this layer of black actually gives me a sense of security. It's quite comforting."
Just then, Mrs. Lake looked up toward the radio sitting on the workshop cabinet and asked, "May I listen to some songs on the radio? It helps me apply makeup faster."
"Go ahead."
Karen walked over, turned on the radio, and adjusted the frequency. Before long, a lyrical melody flowed out.
Mrs. Lake clearly recognized the tune and hummed along, her hands visibly picking up pace.
Karen returned to his seat. He couldn't leave yet, or the purifying guard he had placed on Mrs. Lake would break.
Listening to the music and watching the corpse of the bloodthirsty aberrant demon on the steel table gradually regain its youthful appearance, Karen fell into deep thought.
When her husband had called, he claimed he came to Pavaro because he'd heard Mr. Pavaro was a good man.
Indeed, from Pavaro's perspective, when faced with an aberrant demon who chose suicide before losing her mind just to avoid harming ordinary people, it was difficult not to offer help—such as a dignified funeral.
Back when Karen had first "Awakened" Mr. Pavaro, Pavaro had looked at Annie lying on the floor, his chief concern being her funeral.
Her husband didn't actually know Pavaro, nor had he ever interacted with him. After Karen answered the phone and claimed to be Pavaro, the caller believed him without catching the difference in voice.
Although telephone audio distorted tone to some extent, Karen's voice was distinctly different from Pavaro's. He hadn't been wearing his mask then, and his tone hadn't been altered.
Recently, who could have told him that Mr. Pavaro was a decent, upright man who would take this job?
With just a slight prod, the caller had blurted it out: it had been Neo, captain of the Whip of Order squad.
Neo knew them. When faced with the man's plea, Neo had suggested seeking out Pavaro, and so the man had come.
He didn't even realize that Mr. Pavaro had never actually known the "captain."
Neo had only just replaced the recently deceased Tyers and was busy rebuilding the Order squad. He had never had any real interaction with Pavaro; their only encounter was when Neo had played the timid clerk beside Deputy Director Mi'ang.
So, piecing the whole matter together:
The woman had chosen suicide before succumbing to madness. Her husband went to Neo, wanting to give his wife a proper funeral, and Neo recommended Pavaro Funeral Parlor.
What was Neo's relationship with this couple?
Was he simply doing a favor, or did he have an ulterior motive?
"All done," Mrs. Lake said, laying down her tools.
Karen snapped out of his reverie, realizing he had been lost in thought for so long. Mrs. Lake had even dressed the corpse in a clean, new outfit—a white dress.
"Excellent work."
"Thank you, sir. Would it be alright if I took a bath first?"
"Of course."
"You must be hungry too. Once I've bathed, I'll prepare a late-night snack for you—no sauce this time."
"Thank you for your hard work."
"Not at all, not at all."
As Mrs. Lake reached the door, Karen waved his hand, dispelling the purifying guard covering her.
After she left, Karen remained seated where he was.
"Young Master? Young Master?"
Karen heard Alfred's voice coming from the radio.
"Young Master, may I come in now?"
"You may."
"Understood, Young Master, I'm on my way."
The radio resumed playing the previous tune.
After a short wait, Alfred arrived in the backyard with a large sack over his shoulder and saw Karen sitting in the workshop.
"Weren't you at the door just now?" Karen asked.
"No, when I called out, I was still driving and about to arrive."
"You can control it from that far?"
"I only discovered it recently," Alfred said with a smile. "It must be from all the listening I've been doing. I found that my range for manipulating the radio suddenly grew much longer."
"Did you finish everything?"
"All taken care of. I bought the scrolls and delivered them to Purr and Kevin. At Lemar Pottery Studio, I spent a total of two thousand Order coupons. Not only did I replace the previous sack, but I brought back another large one. Mr. Lemar said that thanks to your previous tip, Young Master, he successfully stockpiled a batch of blood spirit powder. Now that the supply channels on the market are disrupted, prices have skyrocketed. He made a hefty profit reselling it, so he gave us a discount again."
"Leave the things by the door across the way."
"Right away, Young Master." Alfred set the sack down and walked back over. "Young Master, I looked into that group wearing white robes and carrying torches from earlier today. It's an organization formed by people hostile to illegal immigrants. Their slogan is to burn all illegal immigrants who steal their jobs and pollute their city.
"There are quite a few groups like that in Wien."
"Alright, I see."
Only then did Alfred notice the body on the steel table. Approaching it, he asked in surprise, "Young Master, is this a bloodthirsty aberrant demon?"
"Yes."
Karen told Alfred everything that had happened, along with his own deductions.
"So, Young Master, are you worried there might be some conspiracy here?"
"It's too early to call it a conspiracy. I'm just curious about the connection between Neo and bloodthirsty aberrant demons."
"Then what about the funeral?"
"Her body is already prepared, so of course we'll hold it. Since we promised, we must do our utmost to fulfill the client's request. That's what Diss taught."
"Late-night snack is ready! Oh, and who is this?" Mrs. Lake asked, looking curious.
"Ma'am, you might remember me. When I was injured in that explosion, you and your husband drove the hearse to take me to the hospital."
"It's you! You're completely recovered?"
"Completely."
"I am Alfred. Thank you and your husband for extending a helping hand back then. Furthermore, I am the Young Master's servant."
"You... you're his servant?" Mrs. Lake remembered Karen saying this man was his boss, but she quickly realized there was no need to pry. Smiling, she nodded. "Ah, I see. No wonder, no wonder."
The late-night snack was simple: vegetable soup and cheese-ham burgers. Karen ate two burgers and drank a bowl of soup.
After clearing the dishes, Mrs. Lake excused herself to rest in her room.
Karen and Alfred returned to the workshop.
"Young Master, wouldn't the simplest way be to use Awakening on her, wake her up, and ask? Everything would become clear."
"What you're seeing now is a prepared body. In reality, her death was horrific. I suspect she had already fallen into madness. Awakening her would only unleash a bloodthirsty lunatic."
"You're right, Young Master. She definitely waited until the very last moment before choosing suicide. Who would willingly die if they had any other choice?"
"All right, let's head home first."
Karen locked the workshop and kept the key on him.
Walking outside, they saw Pike wrapped in a quilt in the corner of the shop, snoring away. On Karen's orders, either Pike or Dinkum had to stay overnight to keep watch, and tonight was Pike's turn.
"I didn't conceal myself when I came in, yet he didn't notice a thing," Alfred noted.
"I never expected him to do much anyway. But in a shop left with only a mother and two young daughters, having the sound of snoring at night brings a great deal of comfort."
"Very true, Young Master."
"Later, when we have more money on hand, we can renovate the backyard. Commuting back and forth every day is a hassle."
"Don't worry, Young Master. I'll start drawing up plans tomorrow."
"Right, come with me again tomorrow to arrange the mourning hall."
"Understood, Young Master."
Karen got into the car. Just as Alfred was about to start the engine, a blue sedan drove past. As it reached the entrance of the funeral parlor, it suddenly slowed down, eventually pulling over to the curb and coming to a halt.
Alfred paused his hand on the key. Karen reached out and tapped the car radio.
Soon,
static crackled from the car radio, then cleared, giving way to the sound of a man weeping.
He was genuinely weeping, utterly heartbroken, sobbing out a woman's name over and over:
"Elisa... Elisa... My Elisa..."
Karen touched the ring, took on Pavaro's appearance, got out of the car, and walked straight toward the blue sedan ahead.
Reaching the passenger side, he saw a man with his face buried against the steering wheel, sobbing.
Karen tapped on the window. Startled, the man whipped his head around. Karen noticed his hand darting inside his coat—the motion of drawing a gun.
Needing to draw a gun... meant he was weak.
For a moment, Karen hesitated. Should he chant a defensive barrier in front of himself first?
Instead, Karen pointed toward the funeral parlor across the street.
The man seemed to realize who was standing before him. He pulled out the pistol, tossed it onto the passenger seat, and unlocked the door. Karen opened it, picked up the gun, and sat in the passenger seat.
"Are you... Inquisitor Pavaro, sir?" the man asked.
"Mm."
"Thank you for being willing to help hold my wife's funeral."
The man actually knelt toward Karen. Though the car's interior was cramped, he managed to complete the gesture.
"You know Captain Neo?"
"Yes, I know Captain Neo. I knew him even before he became captain. Wait... your voice?"
The man noticed that Pavaro's present voice differed from the one on the phone.
Karen heard his suspicion, but had no intention of offering an explanation. He asked directly, "I want to know the relationship between you and Neo."
"After my wife and I fled our family, we drifted around before arriving in Wien. For the past few years, we lived in Sangpu City. At that time, Neo was the Whip of Order captain in Sangpu City."
York City was of a different administrative rank. Neo's transfer from Sangpu City's Order squad to York City might look like a lateral move, but in truth, it was a promotion.
"Back then, Captain Neo was investigating a case and was injured in an ambush. My wife and I rescued him, and that's how we met. Later, with his help, my wife was able to delay the onset of madness for this long.
"If not for him, she might have lost her mind two years ago.
"When he was transferred to York City, he brought us along. In fact, he told us outright that we had to come with him, because he knew my wife was nearing the brink of madness, and he couldn't stand by and watch her hunt ordinary people for blood once she lost control."
"When did your wife die?"
"This morning. Neo was there too."
This morning...
Karen recalled visiting the office floor to find Neo, who had claimed he'd only just returned.
In reality, Neo should have returned with Deputy Director Mi'ang much earlier than Karen, and Karen had spent a long time getting his God's Servant credential.
"Was your wife's death a suicide?" Karen asked.
"It was suicide. She hammered a silver nail into herself with her own hands. Neo came to witness it, because he said if Elisa couldn't bring herself to do it, he would step in to help."
"Do you hate him?"
"Hate him? No. My wife had prepared herself to commit suicide before losing her mind years ago. She didn't want to become a bloodthirsty monster. We only have deep gratitude for Neo. Because of him, Elisa and I were able to spend two more years together—two wonderful, happy years, truly.
"Besides, I was the one who begged Neo to arrange a funeral for Elisa. With Elisa looking like that, no ordinary funeral parlor would accept her. And the parlors run by Inquisitors in York City would refuse even more; if Elisa's remains fell into their hands, they would most likely just turn her in.
"It was only after my desperate pleas that Neo told me to come beg you at Pavaro Funeral Parlor in Blue Bridge Community. Neo said you were an upright, kind-hearted man, and only you might help us hold a funeral."
"Are you an aberrant demon too?" Karen asked. He couldn't sense any trace of an aberrant demon on the man.
The man wiped away his tears and said, "Sir, my name is Cohen. I am a human."
"A human?"
"I was a servant at Avanas Manor. My family served the great Avanas family for generations."
Karen knew of the Avanas family—a renowned bloodthirsty aberrant demon lineage.
"Then what about you and your wife?"
"Elisa was a lady of the house. Our love wasn't permitted in the manor, so we eloped together."
Ah, what a clichéd love story.
"Does Neo know I agreed to your request?"
"He doesn't. Before he left this morning, he told me that he and I no longer have any connection, and we won't be in contact again."
...
Alfred watched "Mr. Pavaro" step out of the blue sedan ahead. The car started up and drove away. Moments later, "Mr. Pavaro" opened the passenger door, slid inside, and shifted back into the Young Master.
The Young Master held an envelope in his hand and handed it directly to Alfred.
Alfred took the envelope, opened it, counted the contents, and said, "Young Master, it's two thousand Abyss coupons. At the black-market exchange rate, that's roughly sixteen hundred Order coupons."
"Mm. That's more than my Inquisitor stipend, God's Servant stipend, and whatever Whip of Order informant stipend I may or may not get combined.
"So I think this business has great growth potential. In the future, we could even specialize in funerals for non-ordinary people.
"For funeral fees, we won't take secular currency—only point coupons."
"Very true, Young Master."
"All right, let's head home."
...
Returning to their apartment building and stepping inside, they saw Purr riding Kevin down the stairs, calling out excitedly, "Karen, great news! In three more days, our scrolls will be finished!"
"Shh." Karen put a finger to his lips, picked up the receiver, and said, "Let me report myself first."
Alfred crouched down, gripping the telephone wire with both hands, his eyes glowing red. This way, any call placed couldn't be traced by the telephone exchange.
Karen dialed the number listed on the paper from the gray envelope.
The sheet contained regular contact methods, such as drop boxes, as well as an emergency contact, though it was marked not to be used unless strictly necessary.
"Hello," a woman's voice answered.
"This is Karen. I need to speak with the captain. I have something to report."
"One moment."
Before long, Neo's voice came through:
"Hello."
"Captain, our funeral parlor took in the corpse of a bloodthirsty aberrant demon today. Instead of turning it in, Inquisitor Pavaro plans to hold a funeral for her."
A sigh of relief came from the other end of the line—very faint, but Karen caught it. It sounded like... a weight being lifted.
"All right, I understand."
"Captain, what should I do? Please give your orders!"
"Just... help him do a good job, and see that the funeral is done right."
Chapter 159