Did You Steal My Money?

Karen got out of bed and walked over to the door of the ward. Then he stopped, looked down, and saw Purr clawing at his pant leg. Purr spoke up. "Are you sure you want to go check on the situation?" "Hmm?" "What I mean is, Diss isn't here. You don't need to be in any rush to put on a show of kindness." "Me?" "Yes. Besides, Diss isn't actually a very kind person. He's only kind to his family. Consider that a friendly tip." "I'll remember that." "Good boy." "Still, I never said I was going down to check on things." With that, Karen shut the door, dragged over a nearby cabinet, and braced it against the doorframe. "I'm just afraid that after that thing kills someone and goes berserk, it'll come barging in here." Purr backed away a few paces and said, "As expected of a cold-blooded aberrant demon." "If I remember correctly, the stairs leading to the basement are two doors down. That's far too close." "True." Karen walked back to the bedside and sat down. "Purr." "I don't really like the name you gave me. Strange pronunciation." "I think the name sounds very poetic." "Artistic flair, is it?" Purr jumped back onto the bed. "By the way, there's something I've been curious about all this time—your language." "My language?" "Yes. For example, what does ma-le-ge-bi-de mean?" "It means about the same as locking you in a washroom with a feral tomcat." "Understood." Purr lay down on her side and began grooming her fur. "There's something I'm curious about too," Karen asked. "Go ahead." "Can you fight?" "Fight?" Purr said, sounding somewhat helpless. "I used to be very good at it." "By 'used to,' how long ago do you mean?" "Over a century ago." "You've lived that long?" "If you were turned into a cat and lived for two hundred years, you wouldn't envy me. When I first arrived at the Inmeles household, Diss was still just a child. Now, Diss's granddaughter Mina has already started using sanitary pads. Ah, the passage of time." "Could you not use Mina as an example?" "Fine, I'll switch. Last month, Lunt learned how to use his own hands." "Why is it still so quiet outside?" Karen asked in confusion. "Looks like she didn't come rushing up like a madwoman?" Purr wondered. "Or perhaps you misheard?" "It was too clear. I could even hear the conversation between them." "Heh, truly wondrous. Even a God's Servant who had undergone a complete purification probably wouldn't have such exaggerated sensory perception." "God's Servant—is that an occupation?" "In the Church of Order, yes. The lowest rung of the church. Of course, it's not the same thing as the priests in ordinary chapels who enjoy eavesdropping on women's tales of adultery." "Which kind does Diss belong to? What rank is an Inquisitor?" Karen remembered Alfred addressing Diss as Lord Inquisitor. "Purifier—God's Servant; Inquirer—God's Revelation; Reflector—God's Shepherd. "The fourth level is Inquisitor. He is the Church of Order's judge in Rojia City. Any aberrant demon that violates the doctrines of the Church of Order is his target for elimination. And Diss is no ordinary Inquisitor. I watched him grow up. His talent even amazed me. Of course, he isn't without flaws—for instance, his respect for his elders leaves something to be desired." "God's Servant, God's Revelation, and God's Shepherd—are those official titles, or do they correspond to realms of cultivation?" "They correspond to degrees." "Degrees?" "Yes. Three different stages of mastery over the aura of the gods." "The aura of the gods?" "In truth, there's no such thing as an aura of the gods. It's nothing more than a different way of phrasing it. In essence, the aura on Alfred, the aura on Mrs. Hughes when she was possessed, and the aura on Diss are all fundamentally the same." "So..." "So, all those righteous churches from top to bottom shouting about slaying aberrant demons? Count them one by one, and every last one of them is a damned aberrant demon. The only difference is that they stand in the light and control the narrative. Aside from that, some aberrant demons tend to lack brains. You understand what I mean?" "Lack brains?" "An aberrant demon with a brain, if their fists are hard enough, can attain a certain status. They can even visit the church as an honored guest—like me, a long time ago. Meanwhile, if members of an orthodox church lose their way, they fall from the light into darkness, turning from revered clergy into aberrant demons that everyone wants dead." "I think I... somewhat understand." "Did you truly not know any of this?" Purr asked curiously. Karen shook his head. In his previous life, visiting temples really had just been sightseeing; he had never even bowed his head to kowtow. The only place he would bow was at a martyrs' cemetery. "Truly miraculous." Purr licked the fur on her front paw. "And yet, I saw you make Mr. Mossan 'wake up.'" "I don't know how I managed that." "Do you know what kind of entity the Church of Order is?" "To maintain the workings of order and safeguard the Light of Order." "No, no, no. Those are slogans for the outside world. In reality, the God of Order himself was very likely never a living man." "Not a living man?" "In the doctrinal parables of the Church of Order, he is described like this: the God of Order awakened and returned from the netherworld; another version says the Lord of Light awakened the God of Order. Do you know what kind of face the grass-roots organizations of the Church of Order usually present to the world?" "Not a chapel?" "A funeral parlor." Hearing this, Karen had a sudden realization. "I thought the funeral parlor was the Inmeles family business. It turns out it's church property." "Because a large portion of the Church of Order's abilities act upon corpses—or rather, they cannot be separated from corpses. To ordinary people, when a person dies and turns into a corpse, they are completely reduced to an inanimate object. But that isn't true. Even a dead body—and not just human corpses, but those of pigs, dogs, chickens, and ducks..." Purr didn't mention cats. "The corpse itself possesses a lingering spirituality stored within the body, though it isn't as active as when the person was alive. By awakening that spirituality, the corpse can, to a certain degree, be 'resurrected.' However, the degree of 'resurrection' depends heavily on how intact the corpse is preserved, the person's strength in life, their lingering obsessions, and other factors. That's why even if an ordinary person's corpse is revived, it's hard for it to remain lucid for long. It either collapses back down, or degenerates into a living corpse possessing only beastly instincts." "Then is the resurrected corpse the same as when they were alive?" "Of course not. It's merely an empty shell retaining a portion of your memories. In truth, it's no longer you, though it might still think it is." Karen tried to translate and make sense of Purr's words. Under conventional understanding, a person was a symbiosis of soul and flesh, but in reality, the flesh also stored a portion of the soul, much like cellular memory. After death, by awakening that cellular memory, a person could be made to "awaken" once more. "Karen, do you know that making a dead corpse 'resurrect' is an ability unique to Inquisitors? Without that ability, one isn't even qualified to be granted the title of Inquisitor." "Me...?" "So, do you still claim you aren't an aberrant demon?" Purr stood up and leaned close to Karen. "I suspect that when you were summoned, your soul's memories suffered some damage, causing you to forget certain things. Yet your powerful instincts still slip through when you aren't paying attention." "You're overthinking it. My memories are preserved just fine." "True. You even remember an entirely foreign language, so there's no reason your memory would be damaged. That leaves only one other possibility." "What possibility?" "Could you be like the legendary God of Order—someone who... returned from the dead?" "I..." Before Karen could answer, Purr let out a feline laugh of her own. "Because half of the Church of Order's abilities are related to corpses. Although other branches have been developed over the years, the oldest, most orthodox tradition has always dealt with the dead. If the God of Order was a being who returned from the dead, wouldn't the system he passed down be most suited to those who have also died and returned? For instance, perceiving the spirituality in corpses. Someone who returned from the dead wouldn't even need purification to resonate with that spirituality, because they are a living person who also carries the identity of the dead. Hahahaha! What on earth am I thinking? How could such a person exist in this world? If you were, wouldn't that mean you're the reincarnation of the God of Order? So, are you, Your Great and Supreme Highness Karen?" "I am... not." *I was just a psychologist with a private practice and a decent income.* "Tsk, tsk. Then how are we to explain this damned ability of yours? A mandatory ability for an Inquisitor! Even if you don't know how to control it yet, the fact remains that you have it. It's like Lunt being a virgin—he still has the ability to get hard." "That analogy of yours is a bit too..." "I've lived this long. What is there left to be shy about?" "You looked pretty shy just a moment ago." "I just wasn't used to that posture, damn it!" After a period of silence, Karen spoke up: "Purr." "Hmm?" "Do you think Diss would let me join the church too?" If he truly had talent in this area, joining the Church of Order and gaining a system to cultivate upward would surely save him half the effort, wouldn't it? "Are you finally revealing your ambition and schemes?" Purr chuckled. "Still, I'd advise you to give up on that thought. Diss would never allow his descendants to enter the church again. Because—well, let's say it's because of you—the death of your parents dealt Diss a heavy blow. Besides, Diss has grown sick of the Inmeles family's branch lineage within the Church of Order. He intends to let it end with his generation." "I see." "So forget about joining the church. It's completely out of the question. Even now as I speak with you, I don't know whether I'm chatting with some evil god. Perhaps in your eyes, I'm just a tender, cute, and innocent little kitten." "That part is true." Karen stood up and looked out of the ward. Everything seemed normal. He leaned closer to the door and peered through the glass window, finding the doctors, nurses, and patients outside going about their routines as usual. "Did I mishear? Or was I hallucinating?" "Are there still sounds now?" Purr asked. "No." "Then perhaps you misheard." Karen looked at Purr and suggested, "Why don't you go down to the basement and take a look?" Purr's ears pricked up, flattened back, pricked up again, and flattened once more. She said, "Are you joking?" "You don't dare?" "I'm very weak right now. Oh no, I've been weak for over a century." "Then why did Diss send you to protect me?" Karen said, unable to fathom it. "You mean you really can't fight?" "I can see aberrant demons. If you had brought me along to eat barbecue that night, I would have spotted her abnormality in advance, and that would have been enough. Diss meant for me to give you an early warning so you could run for your life, not for you to escape while I held the rear. By comparison, Alfred and Ms. Molly are much better suited for that sort of thing. Of course, if an aberrant demon's aura poses no threat to you, I can pretend I never saw it." "Then you really are a bit of a cat rib." "Although I don't understand that word, I can tell it's not much different from 'useless,' isn't it?" "It sounds slightly nicer." Karen pushed the cabinet back into place, walked over to the bed, and pressed the call button. Before long, Mena walked in. "What is it, Karen? Would you like to order lunch?" "I seemed to hear sounds from down below just now." Karen pointed at the floor beneath his feet. Mena looked at the floor tiles and immediately realized what lay below. She smiled. "How could that be?" "It's true. And what I heard was a scream—probably from a female doctor or nurse. I hope you can send someone down to the basement to check." Mena nodded. "All right, I'll go take a look." Karen reached out and took Mena's hand, cautioning her, "There might be danger down there. It's best to ask security or a male doctor to check. Don't go down yourself. I'm afraid you might be in danger." If something happened to someone else, Karen didn't care. If something happened to Mena, he did. Not because he had any special feelings for Mena—if he had, he wouldn't have brought up helping his aunt wipe down corpses while chatting in the garden earlier. It was simply that Mena had spoken with him and formed a connection. As for the people he had never spoken to and whose names he didn't even know... if something happened to them, so be it. Although Mena felt that Karen was being a bit high-strung, seeing him show concern for her touched her heart. She nodded and said, "All right, I'll go call the security guard on duty to check down below." "Okay." Mena stepped out. Karen closed the door again, hesitated for a moment, and decided against dragging the cabinet back. About twenty minutes later, Mena knocked on the door and returned. "Did you find anything?" Karen asked. "Nothing at all. Everything is normal in the basement." "No bloodstains or bodies found?" "There are bodies, of course, because the morgue is down there. But there weren't any bloodstains. The hospital director led the search himself, and they checked attendance for all the medical staff on shift. No one is missing." "Then... then perhaps I was having a nightmare." "Mm, your body is still recovering. It's very normal to have nightmares sometimes." "All right, I understand." "And lunch? What would you like to have for lunch?" Karen was staying in a VIP ward, where one could place orders for the hospital kitchen to prepare specially, though naturally there were no exotic dishes. "Meow." "Deep-fried dried fish." "Mmh, all right." "Meow." "Pudding." "Mm, okay." "Meow." "Goat's milk." "Got it. Anything else?" "Curry rice, no fruit." "You must eat your fruit," Mena said earnestly. "All right, all right." "Once it's ready, I'll bring it over to you." "Thank you for your hard work." After Mena left, Purr lay comfortably on the bed, flicking her tail as she said, "Karen, if you can order meals like this for me every day instead of making me eat that damned cat food, I might change my opinion of you by a tiny fraction." "Can't you speak?" "You're the exception. If I spoke to anyone else in the family and Diss found out, he would definitely kill me." "Heh, a little food is all it takes to buy you off?" "Try eating cat food straight for a hundred years and see how you feel. Besides, as long as I don't have to keep eating cat food, even if you really are an evil god, in my eyes you're a benevolent one." Karen rubbed his ears and said, "I really did hear conversation and screams." "You'd better pray it was just a hallucination. If not, it might be the prelude to losing your way. That's how it begins for some members of the clergy when they lose themselves." "I'm not a member of the clergy." "You're more sensitive than them. Between genius and madman, sometimes there's only the width of a dried fish." An hour later, lunch was delivered. Purr ate to her heart's content, and under Mena's insistence, Karen finished the fruit as well. At noon, all remained peaceful. In the afternoon, all remained peaceful. At dusk, all remained peaceful. When night fell, everything was still peaceful. "Aren't you going to sleep yet? Getting plenty of sleep helps your wounds recover," Purr said. "I know." "Any more sounds?" "None. Not once from noon until now." "That's good. Pay it no mind, then. Go to sleep." Karen got out of bed and walked over to the door. Through the glass, he could see that aside from the lamp still lit at the nurses' station, there were no other signs of activity outside. Even so, Karen dragged the cabinet behind the door again, and then took a mop from the bathroom and wedged it firmly under the door handle. Having done all this, Karen lay back in bed and closed his eyes. Because he hadn't taken a nap in the afternoon, and because Purr was right that sleep aided recovery, Karen fell asleep not long after closing his eyes. As he slept, in his dream, he seemed to hear rustling sounds once more. Hallucinating again? Intense drowsiness made Karen reject the noise. "My money... my money... my money..." *Damn it!* Karen cursed inwardly and went back to sleep. The speaking voice vanished. What followed, however, was a scraping sound, like someone digging through something with their fingers, accompanied by the constant patter of falling dust and debris. Karen paid it no mind. As long as it wasn't a voice talking, he could tolerate it. Back when he was starting his business in his previous life, he had rented an apartment in a high-rise next to an elevated highway, falling asleep every night to the roar of heavy trucks. *Rustle, rustle...* *Rustle, rustle...* *Rustle, rustle...* The sounds seemed to draw closer and closer, clearer and clearer. Karen opened his eyes in resignation. First, he reached out and shoved Purr, who was curled up beside his pillow with her rear facing him. To his surprise, no matter how much he pushed, the black cat wouldn't wake, as though she were not alive at all, but rather a stuffed ragdoll cat keeping him company in bed. "Purr, Purr, listen. What is that sound? It seems to be getting closer." Purr still showed no reaction. *Can a cat really sleep this deeply?* Karen propped himself up and patted Purr's back again, only to find she remained entirely motionless without answering. *Rustle, rustle...* The sound— was under the bed. Karen braced himself on his arms, reached around Purr, and shifted his upper body over the edge of the bed, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Turning his head, he glanced at the door. The cabinet was still behind it, and the mop remained firmly wedged in place. Everything was secure. *Rustle, rustle...* Yet the sound continued to draw closer. At this moment, Karen turned his attention back to the floor tiles beneath the bed. He leaned further forward, using one hand against the tiles to maintain his balance so that the edge of the bed wouldn't press against the wound on his chest. Right then, his face was very close to the tiles—barely four inches away. And then— *Crash...* It sounded like something giving way, or perhaps something finally being dug through. Right on the tile facing Karen, a hole suddenly broke open, the edges exposing rebar and concrete. As if possessed by a ghost, Karen brought his face close to the opening, intending to look down; he saw gurneys below, some with bodies lying on them, covered in white sheets. All of a sudden, an old woman's face crisscrossed with deep wrinkles abruptly filled the hole, and she asked Karen: "Oh? Did you steal my money?"