Laughter

Mrs. Hughes was dead. No, she was gone. Yet having escaped from perilous danger, Karen didn't feel the least bit relieved. A man knelt before him, along with a woman—if she could even be considered a woman; in short, the two of them exerted tremendous pressure on him. Karen knew full well there had to be a misunderstanding here. But he knew even better that it was impossible for him to explain it away. Just look at how they had disposed of Mrs. Hughes... Karen had no doubt that if they wanted to, finishing him off would be even easier. At a time like this, Karen had to thank his profession from his past life as well as the variety of bizarre occurrences he had encountered since awakening in this one. In short, so long as it didn't involve an actual life-or-death instant, his psychological resilience was fairly solid. What qualified as a life-or-death instant? Something like when Mrs. Hughes actually raised her butcher knife earlier; he truly had been terrified beyond measure. Still, he was a little better than those who didn't shed a tear until seeing the coffin—until the lid was nailed shut, he could still manage to force a smile. Yet, awkwardly enough, these two merely knelt before him without uttering a single word; while Karen, had no idea what to say, because his chances to speak were exceedingly "slim"—one wrong word, and his mouth would be shut forever. *By your will, O Great One;* Karen began recalling what the red-suited man had said to him earlier. *Did they mistake who I am?* *No, that shouldn't be it.* Neither the former "Karen" nor his present self had any right to make these two kneel. They definitely hadn't mistaken his identity. Rather, they must have mistaken his strength. Make complex problems as simple as possible; they took him for a great entity. Though he didn't know the reason, right now he had no choice but to keep acting "great." Yet, how was he supposed to pull that off in practice? Karen desperately wanted to go home right now; he terribly missed Diss's study; oh damn it, Diss wasn't home today! Alfred and Ms. Molly remained on their knees. After a long silence, they finally heard the voice of the great entity before them: "Tired..." Alfred lowered his head even further, and Ms. Molly did the same. Karen rose from the bed, his movements very slow, for his body was still somewhat weak. Alfred shuffled sideways on his knees, clearing a path for the great entity to advance; Karen walked forward step by step. In truth, an impulse surged in his heart—an urge to burst through the bedroom door, race down the stairs, dash out the entryway, sprint beyond the courtyard gate to that red "Cayman" sedan, and slam the gas pedal to the floor to "escape with his life." Yet, looking at the neatly shattered glass beneath the window, and recalling the way this red-suited man had entered earlier, Karen felt that even if he grew another pair of legs, he probably still couldn't outrun him. Still, since he had already stepped out of bed, he couldn't very well turn around and sit back down, could he? In the end, Karen came to a stop before the pile of Mrs. Hughes's clothes, bent down, and picked up these garments—well, they were her relics now. In fact, Karen had quite a favorable impression of Mrs. Hughes. He believed that most of the time she was just herself, except when she wanted to engage in artistic creation. Even so, he didn't indulge in excessive grief. Cradling the clothes, Karen looked through the window at the moon in the sky. "The moonlight... is nice." Alfred and Ms. Molly remained obediently prostrated. Karen tried his best to steady his breathing, continuing to walk slowly toward the window. The friction between his soles and the shattered glass made a grating crunch. Karen lifted his head, pretending to be lost in the night's moonlight. Behind him came a faint rustling sound. Alfred and Ms. Molly had completely shifted their orientation, turning from facing the bed to kneeling toward the window. *Come on,* *say something, won't you?* *If you just kneel there without a word, how am I supposed to know what role I'm playing?* The hand holding Mrs. Hughes's clothes brushed against a small box—a cigarette case. At this critical juncture, a thought suddenly crossed Karen's mind, one that made him want to laugh and slap himself across the face at the same time: *If my act falls apart in the next moment and I'm going to be devoured anyway,* *why not have a cigarette before being eaten?* *Wait, what the hell am I thinking?!* Though roaring inwardly at himself, "muscle memory" still prompted Karen to take out the cigarette case. It was a pack of "Honey" cigarettes, a slim brand meant for ladies. He inverted the open pack into his palm, tapped it, tapped it again, and half the length of a cigarette slid out. He pulled it free, filter facing downward, and tapped it against the back of his hand once, then twice; raised it, and held it between his lips; then picked up the lighter printed with a purple rose, tilted his face down forty-five degrees, *flick—* and lit it; flicked his wrist to extinguish the lighter, took a drag, then pinched the cigarette and pulled it away, tip angled downward as he smoothly blew a ring of smoke. This was the standard routine of a seasoned smoker. Or rather, every veteran smoker had their own customary set of motions; while postures varied slightly, the spirit was virtually identical. When performing this sequence, it was as though background music began swelling around you. No matter who you were or where you stood—whether on a construction site, in a train station smoking area, or, like Karen right now, being watched hawkishly by two "ghosts"— the moment you went through these motions, you became detached from worldly concerns, observing the world with a profound, distant gaze, at least for that single instant. A faint scent of tobacco smoke drifted through the room. Alfred remained kneeling, and so did Ms. Molly. "Heh..." Alfred's body trembled slightly. He instinctively wanted to lift his head, yet restrained the impulse. Karen pursed his slightly bitter lips, then tapped out another cigarette. With immense self-control, he suppressed his hand's urge to shake and said to Alfred, "Care for one?" *He...* *is asking me?* Alfred hesitated for a moment before finally summoning tremendous courage to raise his head. He saw the great entity standing by the window, holding out a cigarette in his direction. The moonlight bathed him, outlining his figure in a golden fringe, holy and inviolable. "Hm?" "I..." Alfred rose slowly, walked gingerly to Karen, reached out, accepted the cigarette, and placed it between his lips. The next instant, *click!* Karen produced a flame with the lighter; Alfred's body shuddered. The great entity, the Lord Emissary, was actually... lighting a cigarette for him? Tobacco and alcohol both carried a heavy dross of cultural baggage, especially when offering drinks or lighting smokes; when someone of superior status did such things, it often moved their subordinates deeply. Alfred leaned in, lit the cigarette, took a drag with a heart full of trepidation and excitement, and then turned his head away so the exhaled smoke wouldn't "offend" the great entity. *Good, he smoked it.* Next, Karen took out another one and looked toward Ms. Molly kneeling on the floor: "Care for one too?" *Fuck, what on earth am I doing?!* Karen cursed himself frantically inside. Ms. Molly stood up, then walked over somewhat dazedly. Her red high heels tapped out a melodious rhythm against the floorboards as she came before Karen. She had no hands, but fortunately, she had a face. Karen proactively brought the filter end to Ms. Molly's lips. Ms. Molly leaned her face forward slightly, parted her mouth, and took it between her lips. Karen picked up the lighter again and lit it for her. Then, Ms. Molly began smoking. Could anyone imagine what Ms. Molly looked like while smoking? It was a scene no artist in their right mind could ever compose! Yet Karen witnessed it with his own eyes. Even though Karen was terrified to the core, the inexplicable absurdity of the scene struck his funny bone, making him desperately want to burst out laughing. Karen held it in, held it, held it; to avoid ruining his image, he turned around, facing out the window. At the same time, Alfred and Ms. Molly followed his lead, turning together to look out the window. Three figures, facing the moon, each dangling a cigarette from their mouth. Good heavens, what a bizarre, grotesque sight! Karen felt the muscles in his cheeks aching from holding back. He instinctively tried to distract himself by taking another drag, and the moment he inhaled, his suppressed laughter completely burst through the floodgates, spilling out uncontrollably. "Hahahahaha... *cough, cough*... hahahahaha..." He choked on the smoke, coughing violently, but the laughter wouldn't stop, and the fit showed no sign of ending. Karen went on laughing uproariously, laughing and coughing all at once; laughing until tears streamed down his face, laughing until he thought he had lost his mind, laughing until he was sure he had blown his cover and was completely done for. *I'm done for! Completely done for!* Karen continued to laugh while slapping the windowsill in regret, laughing all the harder with every slap. *No, stop laughing! I have to rein it in, cut it out!* Alfred was stunned by this bizarre, uninhibited display, and so was Ms. Molly beside him. The great entity before them was laughing maniacally, unrestrainedly, purely; and then, Alfred laughed too—quietly at first, and then, to accompany this great entity, he gradually raised his volume. Seeing the great entity laugh and Alfred join in, Ms. Molly blended right in and started laughing as well. Karen, who had just managed to consciously suppress his laughter, lost all control the moment he heard the two bursts of laughter from behind him. *Holy shit, what the hell are you two laughing at?!* "Hahahahahaha!" "Hahahaha!" "Hahahaha!" *What's so funny?! Stop egging me on! Stop it right now!* "Hahahaha!" Karen turned his head, and happened to catch the sight of the cigarette tumbling from Ms. Molly's mouth because she had no hands to hold it. *Fuck!* "Hahahahahaha!" Karen laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. "Hahahaha!" Alfred couldn't stop either. To ease the awkwardness—and since her cigarette had dropped anyway—Ms. Molly laughed even louder. *You two are out of your minds!* Laughter was contagious. Even when there was no apparent punchline, if someone beside you suddenly burst into roaring laughter, you couldn't help being swept along; your mind found it baffling, yet your body simply couldn't resist. Karen had no idea how long he laughed. In short, he laughed until his strength drained away, laughed until he was nearly starved of oxygen, before slowly coming to a halt. "It has been... a very long time since I last laughed. I had almost forgotten what laughing felt like." Ms. Molly's voice drifted gently through the air. *Finally, someone spoke.* Karen gathered his wits immediately, pulling out the universal patter he used to counsel patients in his previous life: "Sometimes, only by learning to let go of your obsessions can you pick up what you truly desire." Hearing this, Ms. Molly's body—more precisely, her two shapely legs—shook slightly; then, she knelt and prostrated herself once more. "Thank you for your guidance. I shall hold your teachings close to my heart." Just then, Alfred spoke up suddenly: "An Inquisitor of the Church of Order has arrived." *Church of Order? Inquisitor?* Karen looked out the window in confusion. On the road outside the courtyard gate, a familiar figure appeared... Diss. Beside his grandfather was a small creature, indistinct in the night, but its eyes gleamed like amber—it was Purr. Karen almost instinctively wanted to yell, *"Grandpa, save me!"* Yet after gauging the distance between himself and the two beside him versus the distance to his grandfather, Karen abandoned the idea. Still, his grandfather's appearance brought Karen a tremendous sense of security. He stood there, watching Diss outside the window, and said flatly, "I live in his house." Alfred's eyes lit up instantly, and he asked, "Is this Inquisitor of the Church of Order your retainer?" *Of course! Before every great entity rises, there are always retainers born to meet the times, protecting them through their initial difficult trials. Isn't that how every religious tale goes?!* *Retainers could be powerful aberrant demons, or... powerful humans.* *No wonder this man, despite being so powerful, remained in Rojia City as a mere Inquisitor. As it turned out, he bore such a glorious mission all along!* Karen replied, "He is, in terms of this body's bloodline, my grandfather." Karen swore this was the absolute truth; he hadn't exaggerated in the slightest. The reality was, facing this red-eyed fellow, Karen didn't dare lie. He sensed this man was exceptionally perceptive; if you lied to his face, he would detect it. *In terms of bloodline... grandfather.* *So this is a descended deity who borrowed a human body to be conceived, born, and raised, growing up to carry out his mission of establishing a faith!* *It makes sense,* *everything makes sense now!* *This is a true god descended to the mortal realm—a true god!* *That's why he has his own unique language, for his existence, his eons, have long exceeded what any single civilization can measure!* *That's why he has his own unique sacred hymn, for he is a god—his songs are his hymns! He doesn't need to build from zero to one; he himself is the One!* *The God has descended, and he has already prepared everything!* Alfred prostrated himself once more, trembling with reverent awe: "Please forgive my offense. My insolence has disturbed your progress from greatness toward the light." "Your transgressions are forgiven." "Thank you for your benevolence." Yet Alfred did not rise. Steeling his resolve, he spoke directly: "I wish to follow in your footsteps—to be your hawk, your beast of burden, your most loyal and glorious servant!" Beside him, Ms. Molly also declared, "I shall be your legs, solely to bear witness to your magnificent path." Karen blinked, caught completely off guard by this turn of events; he could only look down at his grandfather standing below and offer a helpless smile. ... Outside the gate of 128 Mink Street, Diss and Purr both looked up at the second-floor window. Purr spoke: "Diss, do you regret it now? "An absolute forbidden ritual summoned a truly terrifying aberrant demon. "Before, "your eyes were deceived by his outward appearance, and your heart was clouded by so-called family affection; "look, "he has already subdued these two aberrant demons. "Look again: "his wings fully fledged, "he is flashing you a provocative smile."