Waking fully rested, Karen sat up in bed. With nothing on his schedule for once, he planned to wash up, climb back into bed with a book, and savor this rare slice of indolence.
After all, ever since moving into the funeral parlor, he seemed to have been constantly busy, leaving early and returning late. Even though neither his position in the church nor his work at the funeral parlor required him to clock in, it somehow made it impossible to truly unwind...
Coming out of the washroom, he heard a knock on the bedroom door.
"Young Master, Richard is here to see you."
"All right."
Karen changed his clothes and opened the door.
"Young Master, Richard is sitting in the front hall." Alfred tapped his own cheek meaningfully.
"I understand."
Karen walked to the front hall—the mourning hall of the funeral parlor—and saw Richard perched on a small stool.
"Karen, Karen, oh, Karen..."
Seeing Karen, Richard rose with an aggrieved look and walked toward him, like a younger brother running to cry to his older brother after being disciplined by their parents.
Well, not just *like*—he actually was his cousin.
Karen took a step back, dodging Richard, and asked, "Who are you?"
"It's me, Richard!"
"Did you go to the Pigsty last night and get contaminated?"
"Uh..."
Richard's face was swollen like a pig's head.
Karen used to think that was just an exaggeration, but today he realized it was literal realism.
"My dad beat me. *Sigh.* Yesterday, when I got home and saw him, I brought over the pastries my mom baked and asked, 'Dad, want some pastries?' Guess what he did next?"
"No need to guess. I can see it already."
"My dad's condition has gotten worse, Karen. Do you have any idea how badly he beat me last night? First, he gave himself a slap, then he gave me one. A punch to himself, then a punch to me. In the end, he took off his belt and whipped me back and forth.
"At the time, I was genuinely terrified he'd get carried away and beat me to death."
"Relax, he wouldn't. Besides, this is a very good sign. It shows your father is actively venting his emotions."
"A good sign?"
"Yes. Take a few more beatings, and his condition should improve dramatically."
"What is this, some new kind of therapy?"
"Yes, a wonderful treatment. The only side effect is that it's a bit hard on the son."
"I can't take it anymore! When I tried to run, he wouldn't even let me—he used a spell to bind and trap me!"
"Now that really is going too far."
"Right?!"
"Look, leave here and head a few kilometers north. There's an inner street with a clinic where many gang members go when they get hurt. The doctor there has plenty of experience treating your kind of injuries."
"I already applied ointment my mom gave me, but the swelling takes time to go down. Wait, why are you telling me to go to a clinic? I came to see you! You're supposed to ask me if I've eaten breakfast!"
"Sometimes, intentionally not taking the cue is a polite way of declining."
"Karen, are we brothers or not!"
Karen found that hard to deny, even though he knew "brother" was just a figure of speech to Richard.
"Fine. I haven't eaten breakfast either. Come into the kitchen."
"What, you're cooking yourself?"
"Yes."
Karen led Richard into the kitchen and cooked two bowls of plain noodles.
Seeing Karen holding chopsticks, Richard picked up a pair with curiosity, twirled a mouthful of noodles around them, and slurped it down. Chewing, he asked, "Tastes good. Got any soybean paste?"
"No."
"It's a bit bland."
"There's chili powder."
"Great, give me some."
While eating the noodles, Richard intended to keep pouring out his woes from the night before, only to find Karen pulling out a notebook filled with spell notes, reading while he ate.
"My grandfather taught me that when studying any spell, you must concentrate with undivided attention, free of distracting thoughts."
"That was your grandfather talking to you."
"Is there any difference? The principle is the same."
"Everyone has different talent."
"Are you calling me stupid?"
"I didn't say you were stupid, just not quite as clever compared to me."
"Right, I get it now. You're actually enjoying seeing me beaten like this, aren't you?"
"Congratulations. You finally figured it out."
"Hmph, you're a terrible friend. Zero empathy."
"It was your father who beat you, not some stranger. What, being a friend means I should grab a sword and go home with you to hack at your dad?"
"Well, no, he is my dad after all. Besides, he beat himself pretty badly too."
"What do you plan to do after breakfast?"
"I came here as a guest. What, aren't you going to welcome me?"
"Where's your gift?"
"Uh... I came too early. The shops weren't open yet, so I couldn't buy anything."
"No matter. Leaving behind point coupons works just as well."
"Oh, Karen, how could you be like this!"
"All right. I'm going to the study to read, and you can sit in the courtyard and soak up some sun. Actually, let's reverse that. You sit in the study, and I'll read in the courtyard. Leaving you outside might frighten people."
"I want to talk about yesterday's mission. Karen, how did you realize the captain was an impostor?"
"Just pay more attention to details."
"It's that simple?"
"Yes, that simple."
"Stop brushing me off like that."
Karen stood, walked to the study, and began browsing the bookshelf. In the end, he pulled out a volume titled *A Father's Surrender*.
Richard stepped in after him and picked *The Frog Scared to Death* from the shelf.
Just as Karen was about to head into the courtyard, Richard stopped him. "Wait, wait, let's stay together! Let's just sit in the study, all right? I won't disturb you, I swear."
"Then you have to wear a mask."
"Don't be so cruel, Karen! Last night my father battered my body, and today you're bruising my soul!"
In the end, Karen did not go out to the courtyard, sitting behind the desk instead. Richard took another chair with deep satisfaction.
Alfred came in and served tea and pastries.
After that, Karen settled into reading, and so did Richard. For all his lively and outgoing nature, he could calm down when necessary.
Nearly four hours slipped by. The book was not thick, and Karen was nearing the end. It told the story of a father who took his three children into the deep mountains to live in complete isolation from the world.
The father had loathed everything about urban life, believing it poisoned the human spirit. To preserve the purity of his three children, he chose to live in seclusion in the mountains, leading a near-feral existence reminiscent of *Robinson Crusoe*.
After many years in the wild, the father grew increasingly lost and tormented. Watching his three children grow, guilt weighed heavier and heavier on his heart. The "pure life" he envisioned meant nothing to the children, because they had long forgotten the "filth" of the city. Ignorant of filth, they found purity devoid of meaning.
The story ended with the father leading the three children to a loggers' camp, begging the loggers to take them in.
He then threw himself off a cliff, his final words being: *Return to the city. In time, you will understand the purity I gave you.*
Finishing the book, Karen frowned slightly. He was not entirely sure what the author meant to convey—it felt a bit muddled. Still, the detailed depictions of forest survival were excellent, providing an immersive read.
As for how to interpret and evaluate the "father" character, Karen could not be bothered to analyze it further. It was time to make lunch; after all, this was Richard's first visit as a guest.
Lunch consisted of three dishes and a soup. Karen cooked with heavier seasonings, and Richard ate with gusto.
"I thought your family preferred lighter fare," Karen said with a smile, watching Richard wolf down the food.
"That's what my grandmother likes. Whatever she likes, we have to like too—or at least look like we do."
"So everyone in your family is terrified of your grandmother?"
"Pretty much. We in the younger generation have it a bit better. The one most scared of her is probably my grandfather."
"Heh."
Once lunch ended, Karen assumed Richard would head home, but the boy showed no intention of leaving. One moment he claimed he had not finished his book; the next he asked what was for dinner.
"Did you tell your family you were coming here?"
"No."
"Then I suggest you call home right now. I'd hate for your family to worry that you did something rash after being beaten last night."
"Impossible. No one in my family would ever think I'd do something rash. But I'll make the call anyway."
Karen picked up an orange, peeled it, and leaned against the doorway, watching Richard make the call.
"Yes, hello, it's me, Father." Richard's face instantly fell. His father had answered the phone—something he had never anticipated, as his father rarely ever touched the telephone at home.
"I'm at Karen's."
"I've had lunch."
"Understood, Father. I'll be right back."
Richard hung up, took a deep breath, and looked at Karen. "Save me. My dad told me to come home and stop bothering you on your day off."
"Your father is right."
"Save me, Karen! I'm afraid I'll get beaten again when I go back!"
"See? Your father answered the phone himself. That proves yesterday's beating did some good, doesn't it?"
"Uh... putting it that way makes me feel so conflicted."
"Go on home. Your father needs you right now."
Richard gave Karen the middle finger. Karen paid it no mind, popped a segment of orange into his mouth, and watched Richard leave. Stretching his arms, Karen could finally enjoy his holiday. He decided to take an afternoon nap first.
Entering the bedroom, Karen found Purr conducting an interrogation of Kevin. Kevin was curled up in a corner, looking miserable, while Purr glared fiercely.
Karen's entrance interrupted the session. Kevin cast a pleading glance at Karen, but Karen, who had shared a moonlit beer with him only last night, offered no reaction today.
Purr turned to Karen and asked, "Did that cousin of yours leave?"
"Yes, he went back. I plan to take a bath, then take a nap."
"Should I find somewhere else to interrogate this stupid dog?"
"No need. Go ahead and do it right here."
"Won't it disturb your rest?"
"I just want to lie down. It doesn't matter whether I actually sleep."
Karen walked into the washroom, ran a bath, and sank into the tub.
Purr called from outside the door, "Want me to call Big Butt in to scrub your back?"
"Sure, call her in."
"Hmph, keep dreaming." Purr stuck out her tongue at the washroom door, then glared at Kevin, who was attempting to sneak out of the bedroom. "Stupid dog, freeze! Where do you think you're going!"
Karen had initially planned to soak for a bit and then lie down in bed, but hearing Purr's fierce "interrogation" in full swing outside, he could not be bothered to interrupt. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep in the tub.
It was a light sleep, yet remarkably comfortable—not for replenishing energy, but purely to savor the bliss of resting.
Before he knew it, he had soaked for nearly two hours. When he woke, to no surprise, the water remained pleasantly warm even though the tap had long been turned off.
Getting out, he dried himself, changed into clean clothes, and stood before the mirror, feeling noticeably energized.
This reminded him of his life back at Allen Manor, when there was a stretch of time where his days consisted of playing ball, taking baths, and sleeping in a spacious, warm bedroom.
If not for having to go horseback riding with Eunice every afternoon, he might not have stepped outside his room all day, with servants delivering every meal.
Yet just as the book he read that morning observed, without knowing filth, one cannot understand purity; without productive labor as a backdrop, one cannot truly appreciate the meaning of rest.
Stepping out of the washroom into the bedroom, Karen saw the maid, Xili, squatting before him, arranging afternoon tea for Purr.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Xili did not turn around, merely glancing back over her shoulder. "Young Master, would you like some afternoon tea?"
"No, thank you."
"What about fruit, Young Master? Would you like some?"
"No need either."
Purr chimed in, "He wants to bite into a big peach."
Xili's face flushed crimson before stiffening, and her hands began to tremble as she held the coffee tray.
"Is this your first time hearing me speak? Act normal, and don't spill the coffee! Do you have any idea how expensive these beans are? Do you know how hard our Karen works to provide for this household!"
"Yes, yes, my apologies, my apologies," Xili quickly murmured to Purr.
Karen lay down on the bed.
Composing herself, Xili remained crouched, continuing to set out pastries and fruit for Purr.
Purr took a sip of coffee, ate a grape, spat out the seed, and said to Xili, "He's watching. Lift it higher, a bit higher."
Xili froze, caught between standing up and staying down.
Karen picked up the copy of *Order Weekly* from the nightstand. Glancing through the paper, he said, "Don't take it to heart. This cat has been in heat lately."
"It's fine, Young Master," Xili replied with a prompt smile. Once the afternoon tea was fully arranged, she picked up her tray, stood, opened the door, stepped out, and let out a long breath of relief.
Karen turned a page and said to Purr, "Stop picking on her."
"What, feeling protective?"
"She's just an ordinary person with limited psychological endurance."
"Then just give her a raise. Her psychological endurance is directly tied to her wages."
"In that case, I'll deduct it from your meal allowance."
"Oh, you wouldn't do that. How much can a cute little kitty eat in a day?"
"Your food expenses alone match everyone else in this house combined. Those coffee beans were bought with point coupons, weren't they?"
"Mmh... the radio fairy approved it. They weren't really expensive. Last time, when I stayed up all night helping you study the refrigerator, the radio fairy made a special allowance to buy them so the stupid dog and I could stay sharp.
"Besides, when the household pets eat well, it shows the family is prospering. It's an auspicious sign, right, stupid dog?"
Kevin, who was busy munching on fried meatballs, looked up.
"*Woof!*"
Karen returned to the newspaper. To his surprise, *Order Weekly* was still reporting on two ordinary individuals. One was the Mayor of Manlar, John Rodini, shown in a photograph waving to his supporters from an open-top car.
The other was Mr. Luther, still organizing his purple-hair rights movement, pictured with a raised fist while delivering an impassioned speech.
Karen remembered that *Order Weekly* had been reporting on the two of them for quite a while now. In the religious circle of the faith, how could two ordinary mortals warrant so much coverage? Karen could not yet fathom the purpose behind this attention.
If the church merely wanted to back a new political figure or push a civil rights movement, the Church of Order possessed the power to achieve it effortlessly, without needing such a roundabout approach.
Having finished her afternoon tea, Purr leaped onto the bed and looked at Karen.
"Karen, if you mastered the power of time, what would you do?"
"Nothing in particular."
"Are there no regrets in your life?"
"Not enough to call regrets. But Diss might have a use for it."
"True enough."
"What about you? What would you do if you mastered the power of time?"
"Me? I haven't thought about it yet. Even though I've been a cat for so long, come to think of it, living with the Inmerlais family hasn't really been a regret."
Just then, a knock sounded on the bedroom door.
"Young Master, a call from your captain."
Karen recalled that the captain had mentioned yesterday that he might drop by today if he had time, and that he would call ahead.
Getting out of bed, Karen went to the study to answer the phone.
"Hello, Captain. It's me."
"I beat up that deputy director. Even though I knew he was innocent—he was only responsible for passing along the assignment and had no idea what it really was."
"Good beating. At least it made you feel better."
"Yeah, you're right. After beating him, I felt a whole lot better.
"On top of that, he gave me some good news. We're about to get a new assignment, and the rewards are far more generous than anything before."
"What kind of assignment?"
"Our church is going to conduct post-war compensation negotiations with the Church of Samsara on Dark Moon Island. The Chief Bishop of the York City Region will be traveling there as one of our church's regional delegates to join the negotiating party.
"Because of that, the entire York City Region was granted one security squad slot. This is a genuinely high-reward mission, paying far more than our previous two escort assignments, and we'll get to see true high-ranking church figures. After all, the Chief Bishop we're escorting will probably be sitting in the very back row of that delegation.
"Normally, an assignment this good would never fall to us, and we weren't even scheduled for it. But all of a sudden, the squad originally slated for the job was dropped, and we were specifically named to take their place. Before this, I didn't hold out any hope at all, and I hadn't done any pulling of strings for it."
"Just good luck?"
"No, no, not luck. According to the deputy director I just thrashed, what he heard is this:
"An incredible big shot way up the hierarchy personally put in a good word for our squad and even praised us."
"..." Karen.
Chapter 244