Karen wondered how such a rumor had managed to spread in the first place.
Soon, however, he realized that the Captain himself had likely started it. Neo probably wanted to raise his squad's profile so they would have a greater edge when competing for prestigious, high-reward missions down the line.
That was completely in character for him. At times he was aloof and distant, like an elegant concert pianist lost entirely in his own world; at other times he was endlessly chatty, pulling you aside to recount the story of the hunting hound and the little ducklings over and over again.
Sometimes his appetite was voracious, stopping at nothing during missions to maximize profits, yet after reaping massive windfalls, he had the gall to hand out entire boxes of cheap plastic rings without batting an eye.
Karen had suspected for a while that the Captain had schizophrenia or split personalities, and that portrait found in the pottery studio's basement was the best proof of his condition.
Still, the publicity had certainly worked. His cousin here had his heart set entirely on joining Neo's squad.
Although official squad rosters were limited to one captain and twelve members, there was no limit on unofficial, auxiliary members.
Besides, bringing someone with a prestigious background like Richard into the squad—even if only in name—would naturally give the squad greater advantages moving forward and secure favors from many angles.
Not every team looked down on young masters seeking to pad their resumes; it all came down to whether there was enough reciprocal benefit.
Meanwhile, Richard was still pleading with his grandfather.
"Grandfather, just think about it! If you'd agreed earlier to let me join that squad, maybe the child the Princess of Dark Moon Island is carrying right now would be your great-grandchild!"
Karen was rendered speechless.
Yet even in his speechlessness, he couldn't help thinking there was some twisted logic to it.
Ophelia wasn't pregnant, of course, but if the rumor were true, the child really would have been this old gentleman's great-grandchild.
"You're talking utter nonsense," Delon said, helpless against his grandson's antics. He looked over at Karen and chided, "Aren't you ashamed to make such a fool of yourself in front of your friend?"
"If you don't believe me, ask him! Hey, Karen, if you were given the chance, wouldn't you want to join Neo's Whip of Order squad?"
Karen smiled with modest restraint and replied in a quiet voice, "If I had the chance to join any Whip of Order squad, I'd already be more than satisfied. I wouldn't dare be picky."
"Listen to your friend. As for you, you're just—"
Delon had intended to use Karen's words to reprimand Richard for taking his blessings for granted. Yet halfway through his sentence, seeing Karen sitting there with an awkward, self-effacing expression, an inexplicable surge of heartache welled up inside him.
Richard stared wide-eyed at Karen. He knew his newly made friend was putting on an act; earlier, Karen had been thoroughly casual with him.
"Grandfather, help me out, I beg you! Just think, how proud you'll feel when your grandson is known as a little hunting hound!"
"If my grandson is called a pup, wouldn't that make me an old dog?"
"No, Grandfather, that's just a metaphor! A metaphor!" Richard grabbed Delon's shoulders. "Grandfather, I want to grow. I want to become a responsible, dependable man!"
Karen lifted his teacup and took a sip.
Watching this scene, he couldn't help thinking of his own grandfather. Diss, too, had always granted his every request.
Delon kept a stern face and said nothing.
Richard kept pleading.
Watching Delon's expression, Karen wondered: *Could it be that this has already been settled?*
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Karen stood up, gesturing that he would answer it. Richard flashed him a grateful smile and immediately redoubled his offensive against his grandfather.
Walking to the foyer, Karen opened the door and saw the person standing outside—Neo.
Neo was equally surprised to see Karen here. He teased, "So you're the Guman grandson?"
"Richard and I are friends," Karen answered, not bothering to mention that they had only met today.
"What a coincidence."
"Yes, quite a coincidence."
Neo didn't rush inside. Instead, he pulled out a sheet of black paper. Without him visibly folding it, the paper seemed to fold itself into the shape of a crow and took flight from his palm.
Karen thought to himself that he ought to learn this spell too.
"Fanny's going through the squad roster, and you were the only one missing. I sent word so the team wouldn't think you got crushed under the Church Affairs Building."
As Neo explained, he pulled a small box from his pocket, took one of the neatly arranged plastic rings packed tightly inside, and slipped it onto his finger.
"It really was a close call. Captain, you left your mask behind at the cemetery. I was originally going to the Church Affairs Building to leave it in your office, but the moment I parked my car, the building collapsed."
The mask Neo had left behind was the Whip of Order's black mask, not the porcelain-faced one from the pottery studio.
"That mask is useless now anyway. I had Fanny commission a new batch—silver instead of black, three per person, made from special materials. You can go to Fanny to pick yours up, or she'll bring them to you on our next mission. The reason for the change is that every other squad in York City wears black, and we want to be different from those little ducklings."
As Neo spoke, he pointed a finger at his own face.
"Next time, don't make a special trip for such a trivial matter. How valuable could a mask possibly be?"
"Yes, understood, Captain. But about the Church Affairs Building... do you know what caused it?"
"I wasn't involved, but I heard a few things. Apparently, they intended to use the meeting as an opportunity to apprehend an apostate—or rather, a mole. But no matter how well-laid the plan, a slip-up occurred in the end, allowing him to trigger the spatial array inside the Church Affairs Building before dying and cause chaos.
"Mm, a colleague of the old man inside, from the same department. He's a deputy director, while the apostate was the director."
"A mole..."
Neo leaned in closer to Karen and whispered, "The more a place obsesses over faith, the easier it is for die-hard moles to appear."
Karen looked at Neo and quietly stepped aside.
Neo walked inside, and Karen followed him back to the living room.
"Greetings, My Lord."
Delon pointed at Neo and said, "All right, stop pestering me. Your captain is here."
"Captain?" Richard turned his head to look at Neo standing in the living room. "You... you're Captain Neo?"
"That's me."
Richard repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, visibly nervous.
Delon spoke up, "I entrust this grandson of mine to you. Please look after him."
"The honor is mine, and my squad's. However, because my squad is currently at full capacity, I can't grant him an official posting. He can only be an auxiliary member for now, though he'll deploy on missions with us."
"That's fine." Delon didn't care about an official slot. How could the Guman family possibly worry about a standard posting?
"Rest assured, no one has died in our last few missions. I expect an official spot will open up before long."
Delon's face stiffened, but when he glanced at his grandson, he found the boy looking even more thrilled.
Neo turned to Richard, slipped a ring off his finger, and handed it to him.
Overwhelmed with excitement, Richard took the ring with both hands.
Standing nearby, Karen felt a sense of déjà vu. He only hoped Richard would treasure the ring and not try bending it with force.
"A new Church Affairs Building should be opened soon. When the time comes, go process your file."
"Yes, Captain! Understood! As soon as the Church Affairs Building reopens, I'll go take care of it."
"Good."
Neo looked at Delon and said, "My Lord, I shall take my leave."
"You may stay and chat with my grandson a bit longer. He admires you greatly," Delon offered.
"I have other matters to attend to," Neo declined bluntly.
Delon nodded. "Go ahead, then."
Neo said his goodbyes and left, while Karen remained in the living room.
Carefully holding the ring, Richard came over to Karen and asked, "Karen, don't you find Captain Neo's style utterly admirable? When Grandfather told him he could stay, he just said he had other business! I'm so thrilled to be serving under a captain like him."
"Congratulations," Karen said with a smile.
*I guarantee you'll be even more thrilled once he starts telling you stories about little ducklings.*
Delon rose to his feet.
"Grandfather, are you leaving already?"
"Business is concluded, so why stay? Your grandmother is home alone, and I'm worried about her."
"I'll go visit Grandmother tomorrow."
"Focus on your duties. If there's a mission, listen to your captain. In a pack of hunting hounds, there's no room for a little white rabbit."
"Grandfather, your grandson is no rabbit. Just you wait and see."
Delon's gaze fell upon Karen once more. This young man, roughly the same age as his grandson and dressed in a black robe, had an aura that put people at ease simply by standing there.
"Karen, was it?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"Richard has many friends, but if I recall correctly, this is the first time he has ever brought a friend home. In the past, he never even brought his girlfriends back. Since you get along, be good friends to each other. If you ever need help with anything in the future, you can have Richard come find me."
"Thank you, My Lord."
Karen knew this was merely courteous pleasantry.
"Grandfather, let me see you out." Richard saw Delon to the door, extraordinarily attentive and eager to please.
Once Richard returned, Karen told him, "It's getting late. I should take my leave as well."
"What's the rush? Stay a while longer. Come, let me show you my father's study."
"Is that really necessary?"
"It makes things feel properly official."
Richard took Karen by the arm and practically nudged him up the stairs. Earlier, Karen had only gone to the second-floor bathroom to shower without entering any rooms. Richard opened a study on the second floor and invited Karen inside.
"Make yourself at home. This study used to belong to my grandfather. To look after Grandmother's health, he moved out to a convalescent retreat with hot springs on the outskirts of York City. In name, the study belongs to my father now, but Father rarely comes home and hardly ever uses it."
Karen scanned the books on the shelves.
"If you see anything you like, just take it," Richard said generously.
"No need."
"Do you like chess?"
"No."
"Cards?"
"No."
"Drinking? There's a wine cellar in the basement."
"No."
"How can you fit in without any hobbies? You can't be too aloof, you know." Richard leaned against a bookshelf and scrutinized Karen. "If you stay this aloof, how will you get along with people? Look at me—I'm already prepared to blend right into my new squad."
Karen gave a faint smile. Getting along with that squad didn't require chess, cards, or drinking—it just required being crazy enough.
"Don't worry, once I make a name for myself, I'll pull you into the Whip of Order too. You work at the Inquisition office—aren't you basically running a funeral parlor?"
"Yes. Would you care to come experience it?"
"Ha." Richard brushed it off. "I'll attend funerals for the people I kill with my own two hands. I've already made up my mind: for the first target I personally kill after joining the squad, I'll arrange a grand funeral for him. But the funeral won't be burying him. Do you know what it will be burying?"
"It will be burying your naive past."
"Oh, heavens! That response hits the spot so perfectly! I just realized I had you all wrong before. There's no need to be endlessly enthusiastic like me; people take you for granted if you're too eager. Staying cool, composed, and proper like you, and then dropping a line like that once in a while—the effect is brilliant!"
Karen didn't bother responding. Instead, his attention shifted to another framed photograph hanging in the study. In this picture, there were only three young people: "his" mother, her younger brother, and her younger sister.
"You seem really interested in my family portraits."
"Yes. It's a marvelous feeling to see what two esteemed Jurists looked like in their youth."
"What's so special about Jurists? In outsiders' eyes, they might seem out of reach, but within our circle, it's nothing extraordinary."
"One rarely cherishes what one already possesses."
"Perhaps. Honestly, I've always been curious about my elder aunt. Even though Grandfather and Father say she's dead, I feel like she isn't. She might have run away from home. Although the Church usually takes custody of bodies when its members die, a tombstone is still typically set up. Yet I've never seen anyone in my family pay respects to her."
There had to be a story behind this: "his" mother had left home, disappeared, and later surfaced in the Inmerlais family, where she married "his" father and gave birth to "him."
However, her situation likely differed from Purr's. Given that her photographs were displayed openly in so many places throughout the house, she probably hadn't completely broken ties with her family.
Purr was treated like a venerable ancestor only because a century had passed before its return; had it come back after just a few years away, the reception would have been entirely different.
Richard brewed another pot of tea, insisting on keeping Karen in the study drinking tea as though they were deliberating some momentous affair.
In the end, seeing that the hour was truly late, Karen said his goodbyes once more. This time, Richard didn't hold him back and walked him to the garage.
"I'm terribly sorry for keeping you chatting for so long," Richard said.
"It's fine. I quite enjoyed our talk." Karen got into the car. "Until next time, then."
"Next time you see me, I'll probably be wearing a black mask. I hope my grim and chilling demeanor doesn't frighten you."
*They changed it to silver masks.*
Karen smiled at him, started the engine, and backed out of the garage.
Heading back up the stairs, Richard tapped his forehead with a hand:
"What is this blasted sense of familiarity all about?"
...
On the drive back, Karen hesitated briefly before making a detour past Sycamore Street. Police had cordoned off the perimeter; cars could drive out, but none were allowed in.
Karen couldn't be bothered to use his credentials to go take a look, so he made a turn and headed toward Blue Bridge Community.
By the time he arrived home, it was the early hours of the morning once again.
Karen felt somewhat exasperated. Getting back so late every day was turning his schedule completely upside down.
Just as he parked, Karen saw Alfred walking out.
"Young Master, you're back."
"Why are you still waiting up?" Karen asked, puzzled. He had told Alfred he would be back late—and though his reasons for saying it at the time had been different, the outcome was the same.
It was a pity about Mr. Gray and Mr. Wend; he had originally intended to spar with them again to gauge his current strength, but that would have to wait for another time.
"Young Master, as you instructed, I have located the section in Mr. Hoffen's notes regarding unsealing Kevin. Please take a look, Young Master."
Alfred handed over a black notebook with a bookmark tucked inside.
"Couldn't this wait until tomorrow?" Karen asked.
"This subordinate suggests you view it now, Young Master."
"All right, let's go to the study."
Taking the notebook, Karen walked into the study, and Alfred switched on the light for him.
Just then, Kevin slipped into the study as well, sitting in front of Karen's desk with an open mouth and lolling tongue, wearing an honest, goofy grin. Only his bald canine head made the sight slightly comical.
"Where's Purr?" Karen sat down and asked. "Asleep?"
Usually, whenever he returned at night, Purr would ride in on Kevin's back to greet him.
"After recovering some of its power, it became too excited. This afternoon, it gleefully stoked the boiler with fireballs, only to exhaust itself and fall into a dead sleep."
"Heh." Karen chuckled and shook his head; that sounded remarkably like how he had been when he first learned spells. "Oh, right, Alfred, could you look up the spells 'Black Fog Walk' and 'Paper Crow' for me? When I wake up tomorrow, I'll take some time to learn them. Hopefully they won't be too difficult."
"You jest, Young Master."
Karen opened the notebook and flipped directly to the bookmark. From this point forward, Mr. Hoffen went into meticulous detail about the methodology and principles he had used to seal the evil god.
After reading for a bit, Karen decided to skip ahead to the practical steps.
He flipped through more than forty pages, nearly reaching the back, before finally spotting the heading: "Detailed Guide to Multi-Layered Unsealing."
Mr. Hoffen had spent more than forty pages, front and back, densely packed with descriptions of the seal, which showed just how delighted and proud he had been over successfully sealing an evil god.
It was like a reference manual where ninety-five percent of the content was the author detailing their original intentions and personal journey in writing it.
"Detailed Guide to Multi-Layered Unsealing."
This page outlined the materials and supplementary aids that needed to be prepared in advance.
Only at the very bottom, in the final line, was:
"Step One:"
After the colon, there was a paragraph break.
Karen turned the page and found that the first line on the reverse began with: "Step Two: Relying on one's understanding of array systems, conduct a complete circulation according to the array structural diagram..."
*Wait, where was Step One?*
Karen flipped back, then turned the page again. Then, he suddenly noticed that two pages were stuck together.
He looked up at Alfred, who clearly had known all along.
A small letter knife lay on the desk—a standard fixture, frequently used to open correspondence. Karen picked it up and carefully sliced open the two stuck pages.
Once separated, Karen saw the complete content of Step One.
Then, Karen looked up at Kevin sitting before him. The dog's eyes were squinted into happy crescents, radiating the quintessential warmth and adorableness of a golden retriever to the fullest, like an obedient little darling waiting for a jerky treat.
Having watched Purr play all day, it was naturally burning with envy.
Karen lowered his head again and took a full look at the text of Step One.
Indeed, Step One was brief—so brief it consisted of only two sentences. Yet for those two sentences, Mr. Hoffen had dedicated two full pages.
Written on the left page was:
"Are you seriously going to unseal it???"
Written on the right page was:
"Are you out of your mind?!"
Chapter 195