I Issue a Summons to You

"Oh? Did you take my money?" The old woman's eyes were milky, turbid white, without a pupil in sight. Under her gaze, Karen felt as though he had been plunged into an ice vault. Piercing cold began seeping into his skin, eating into his bones, and surging from all directions until it sealed off his heart. Even his thoughts, which ought to have been fluid and free, felt like a river frozen over at the surface—still running underneath, but entirely severed from him. It was a bizarre sensation. You felt you were still you, yet you had forgotten who you were. You felt you could still think, yet you couldn't formulate a single thought. If being dragged into Ms. Molly's sleep paralysis because of Jeff had been a layering of dreams, what was happening now was a deeper severance of soul and consciousness. It wasn't frightening you. It wasn't intimidating you. It wasn't scouring your heart for cracks to widen, or searching for fissures in a dam to exploit and break down your defenses. From the very instant of that "first encounter," it simply petrified your consciousness. "You took my money, didn't you?" A smile tugged at the corners of the old woman's mouth. It wasn't particularly sinister—it almost felt kind—but the clash of such jarring contrast was enough to twist the mind and turn the stomach. It wasn't that Karen wanted to gawk stupidly in place; he had lost the capacity to react. It was happening right before you, right on you, yet you felt like an onlooker. A masterpiece of a painting hung before you and you were admiring it, yet you couldn't pass any judgment, because you were merely a character in a painting hanging across from it. "My money... you have to give it back to me..." The old woman's face drew back slightly. Immediately after, a withered hand reached out from the hole and seized Karen by the neck. Karen's upper body still dangled off the bed, one palm still propped against the floor tiles, but he had no way to change or influence anything. All he could register was the icy touch at his throat. The hole, barely wide enough for a face, began to stretch, stretch, and stretch, transforming from a dark hollow into an abyss. And he was like an offering about to be presented. "My money... my money..." The tiles began to melt like softened chocolate. The bedframe, the desk, everything within sight shifted from solid reality into fluid, and Karen's body followed the same rhythm. It was as if the hole meant to suck in everything above. Just then, a dark bundle fell from the bed ahead of Karen. Just as it was about to be pulled down into the opening, the dark shape suddenly moved. "Meow!" Karen loved quiet. Both in his past life and his present one, he despised clamor. Yet this high-pitched cat screech sounded like heavenly music. With that cry, chaotic ripples spread through the surrounding fluids, and Karen's consciousness seemed to claw its way back. "My money... my money..." The old woman's voice carried a stubborn resolve, desperate to reclaim everything. Purr, having just let out that cry, crouched at the edge of the hole. The claws of her left front paw slid out, rose high, and slashed down! "Ah!" A distinct, bloody scratch appeared across the old woman's face, and she shrieked in agony. The suction dragging everything inward abruptly froze. Then it snapped back, erupting like an explosion! Boom! ... Thud! Karen tumbled from the hospital bed. Pain flared from the joints that struck the floor, followed immediately by a second wave as the fall pulled at the wound on his chest. "Hiss..." With a sharp gasp of pain, Karen curled inward instinctively, convinced a hole lay beneath him. But when he looked down, the floor tiles under the bed were completely intact. Perhaps a little dirty, but there was certainly no hole. Right then, with a sharp click, the overhead light flicked on. Purr stood on the nightstand, lowering one paw from the switch. Before Karen could speak, Purr said, "An aberrant demon. A beguiling aberrant demon." Her gaze settled on him. "You weren't hallucinating this morning. There is a beguiling aberrant demon beneath us. This is a serious matter. We need to notify Diss." "Before notifying Diss, could you press the call button for me?" Karen said. Purr blinked her feline eyes, pointed a paw toward the door, and said, "Before ringing the bell, I think you should move the barricade away first." "Sigh..." Karen sighed and lay flat on the floor for a moment. Once the pain subsided—or at least became bearable—he climbed up slowly, walked to the door, shifted the cabinet aside, and removed the mop. Purr pressed the call button. Karen sat on the edge of the bed and inspected the wound on his chest. Fortunately, though pulled, it hadn't torn open. "Is a beguiling aberrant demon a type of aberrant demon?" Aberrant demon had to be a broad category, like different races among humans. "Yes, but beguiling aberrant demons are very rare. To a degree, even Alfred with his Succubus Eye doesn't count as one. Beguiling isn't about using illusions or dreams to affect someone's mood and mind anymore. It can sever and command your consciousness directly, turning you into a puppet in an instant. Compared to a beguiling aberrant demon, things like the one possessing Mrs. Hughes, or Ms. Molly who only scares or eats people, could be considered harmless little darlings." "Then why did it come for me? I'm certain I didn't steal her money." Every debt has its debtor. Why had he been the target of her assault? "I might not have known how to describe it before, but after she came knocking, I understand." "Understand what?" "Your talent is practically overflowing. It's so full it's spilling over, like Lunt six months ago waking up bright red and sneaking into the washroom to scrub his underwear." "..." Karen was speechless. "It's not that she holds a grudge against you. Beguiling aberrant demons have extraordinarily keen spiritual sensitivity, and you're so close to her. If her vision were pitch-black darkness, you'd be a glaring lightbulb flaunting itself right in front of her." "Then what about you earlier?" Karen licked his lips. "You were amazing back there." It was genuine praise. If not for Purr's claw, Karen felt his soul would have been pulled clean out of him. "She was just unlucky," Purr replied modestly. "I'm really no good in a fight, but in this regard, I still retain some... instinct, let's say." "Instinct?" A smile appeared at the corners of Purr's mouth—an eerie sight on a black cat. "Because once upon a time, I was also a beguiling aberrant demon. And a noble, pureblood one at that. She isn't." "Aberrant demons have bloodlines too? I thought that only applied to cats and dogs." "Mind your words, especially before an elder who just saved your life." "Right." "Bloodlines are a process of evolution. Aberrant demons can seek breakthroughs in their level of existence through various means to attain purity. The clergy are the same. Though they constantly profess to be servants of God, what they truly yearn for deep down is to stand upon the divine altar themselves one day." "Which means you can't handle it? I mean, the one below." "I'm just a cat. If it comes down to a brawl, you'd be better off dragging that dumb golden retriever from home over here." Purr shook her head slightly. "Never mind. That retriever is an even bigger coward." "Yeah," Karen agreed with a nod. "Call Diss. Beguiling aberrant demons are a rare breed, now and throughout history. But whenever one appears, no matter how it came to be, letting it run wild causes tremendous devastation. The one possessing Mrs. Hughes only killed a few people. In the past, a powerful beguiling aberrant demon used speeches and elections to become the head of state and build a short-lived, brutal empire." Just then, the door pushed open, and a nurse walked in. Mena worked the day shift; she wasn't on duty tonight. "Sir, how can I help you?" "I'd like to call my family. It's an urgent matter," Karen said. In a VIP ward, reasonable requests were almost always granted. Of course, if you were young and unmarried, you might even walk away with one of the young nurses caring for you upon discharge. Because of that, the turnover rate for VIP nurses was about the same as that for receptionists at large corporations. "Certainly. Your phone number is..." Karen looked at the nurse with a trace of doubt. Even if he hadn't been in a VIP ward, the nurse's station would have his patient file, and his VIP status would be noted separately. She shouldn't have needed to ask him that. "Meow!" Without warning, Purr screeched and leaped straight at the nurse's face, raking her claws across it. Rrrrip! It sounded like a pencil tearing through paper. Purr's claws peeled a strip of skin right off the nurse's face. It didn't fall off, remaining loosely attached. Yet the nurse didn't scream. Her expression stayed unchanged as her hands lunged toward Purr. Purr leaped again, swiping at the nurse's hands in midair. But pain had no effect on the woman's movements; her hands caught Purr firmly. She raised the cat high and slammed her toward the floor! Smack! Purr struck the ground hard. The nurse kicked out. Though her shoes were flat, they were made of stiff leather. Thump! Purr was kicked across the floor into the corner, her small body curling in on itself as blood stained the tiles. The nurse kept walking toward Purr, reaching down to grab her again. From Purr's initial leap and swipe to the nurse seizing and slamming her, it had all happened too fast for Karen to react. But now, bracing his hands against the bedside, Karen lunged forward and kicked the nurse hard in the waist. The nurse crashed to the floor, her head smacking against the tiles with a heavy thud. Karen scrambled to his feet, looking for something to use as a weapon. Yet the fallen nurse reached out with barely a pause, caught Karen by the ankle, and surged forward. Karen was knocked off balance, falling back onto the bed. The nurse clung to him like a vine, throwing herself on top of him—or rather, sitting squarely on his chest. "Hiss..." The crushing pressure on the wound brought such searing agony that Karen nearly blacked out. Passing out from pain might have been a convenient escape and protective mechanism, but Karen knew all too well that if he lost consciousness now, he would never wake up again. The nurse clamped both hands around Karen's neck. Her face remained placid, without a shred of ferocity, but her grip was vicious. Karen struggled violently. The wound on his chest tore open, blood soaking a large patch of his hospital gown. Still, this body was frail to begin with, weakened further by recovery from a serious injury. Against a nurse who felt no pain, he stood no chance. Karen's left hand scrambled along the bedside and touched the book Mena had lent him, *I Bound Your Heart*. Thank goodness it was a hardcover. Gripping the book, Karen swung the hard corner straight into the face of the nurse choking him! Crack! Crack! Crack! The corner of her eye split, her nose was smashed crooked, and bruises bloomed across her face, yet the force in her hands didn't weaken in the slightest. Karen grew weaker as asphyxiation set in. With a final blow, the book slipped from his hand and flew across the room. In the corner, Purr remained curled tightly. Thoughts raced through Karen's mind. If only the previous Karen had exercised more. If only he had started eating protein and working out the very first day he woke up. If only Diss hadn't stabbed him. Yet all those "if onlys" were too late. Karen felt the strength draining from his body. He flailed his arm in helpless fury, but his fingertips could only brush the nurse's face and neck, lacking the strength to deliver even a slap. Then, right at that moment, Karen saw an identical nurse standing beside her. They looked exactly alike, except this second nurse bore no claw marks from Purr and no bruises from his blows. She stood there in utter bewilderment, like a young girl who had just lost her purse and had no idea what to do. The memory of "Mr. Mossan" and the real Mr. Mossan in the basement flashed into Karen's mind. Is it here? Has it triggered? Without time to think, Karen moved his face—or rather, shifted his gaze. The phantom of the girl moved along with it. At last, just as Karen felt he was about to pass on, his soul and consciousness teetering on the verge of leaving his body, his physical limit reached under the suffocating grip, he aligned the phantom over the nurse on top of him—and made them overlap! Abruptly, the nurse's hands loosened. "Gasp! Gasp! Gasp!" Karen drew in huge gulps of air, the sweet, intoxicating taste of oxygen filling his lungs, followed by an almost hysterical fit of coughing. It was so violent that it eclipsed even the agony in his chest. The nurse knelt on the bed, reaching both hands forward. Halfway there, she jerked them back, reached out again, and pulled back once more. Then, one of her hands gripped her own throat while the other pounded frantically against her arm. Her mouth opened, biting viciously at her own fingers. The scene turned gruesome and mad. It was like two mortal enemies locked in a fight, only they were fighting using the very same body. Blood trickled from Purr's mouth as she slowly, painstakingly lifted her head. Taking in the scene on the bed, she shouted, "Control... her..." The essential ability of an Inquisitor of the Church of Order: awakening the dead. She had seen Karen make Mr. Mossan sit up in the basement with her own eyes. She knew he had the ability, but she also knew he lacked the capacity to control it. Yet right now, the beguiling aberrant demon was possessing this nurse. If he couldn't use the turmoil of the corpse's awakened consciousness to suppress it, the aberrant demon would swiftly regain control of the body. Never mind that the body was battered and bruised. Between a severely injured cat and a pretty boy recovering from a stab wound, how could they hope to stand against a possessed adult woman who felt no pain? Karen hadn't actually heard Purr's voice, which had dwindled to a faint rasp. But amid his violent coughing, he noticed the nurse's eyes shifting from confusion to fixate on him, while her internal struggle steadily weakened. The girl's phantom seemed on the verge of tearing free, evaporating and dispersing. "Hehehe..." A sound resembling laughter rose from the nurse's throat. Ignoring the hand still twisting her neck, she reached out toward Karen with the other. Karen's eyes went wide. He shouted, "Kneel!" Thud! The nurse's forehead slammed directly against the bedframe. Her other hand kept grasping forward, but Karen was tucked into the corner of the bed, out of her reach. Having shouted the command and seen her react, Karen froze in surprise for an instant. But he dared not hesitate, immediately yelling, "Freeze!" The next moment, even the arm groping toward him went still. All that remained was a dull, muffled sound from the nurse's throat, repeating a single syllable over and over: "Money... money... money..." "Silence." The voice that had tormented him in nightmares for almost the entire day finally fell quiet. Karen didn't dare touch the nurse's body as she rested motionless with her forehead against the bed. He shifted carefully off the mattress. Purr struggled to her feet with great effort. Karen asked, "How long will she stay quiet?" "Not long," Purr said, unable to gauge how long Karen's binding would last. "I'm going to call Diss." Karen walked out of the room. Strangely enough, despite the loud struggle inside, the corridor outside was dead quiet, save for an occasional cough from a distant room. It was as if his room had been completely cut off from the outside world. Clutching his chest, Karen walked over to the nurse's station. He found the night nurse collapsed unconscious on the floor. On the desk stood a row of indicator lights, each corresponding to a ward below, with the VIP rooms listed separately. Upon receiving a call, the duty nurse would switch the light off before heading to the room. But the light for his ward was still glowing. Karen didn't bother trying to wake the unconscious nurse. He picked up the telephone and dialed home. It rang for quite a while before someone answered. It was Aunt Mary. "Hello, Inmerles Mortuary Services." "Aunt Mary, put Grandfather on the line." "Karen? Did something happen over there?" "Put Grandfather on the line." "Your grandfather isn't home tonight. He's been visiting Mr. Hoffen these past few nights. Mr. Hoffen's condition has taken a turn for the worse..." Click! Upon learning Diss wasn't home, Karen hung up immediately. It wasn't out of rudeness; he simply had no time to explain to his aunt, let alone offer excuses. Frustratingly, without mobile phones, tracking down someone who wasn't by a landline was difficult and time-consuming. Yet almost without pausing, Karen dialed another number. This call was answered almost instantly. At the first ring, the line clicked open. Then, a rich, magnetic male voice came through the receiver: "Hello?" Karen breathed a long sigh of relief. Speaking into the mouthpiece, he said, "I now issue a summons to you."