Telling You a Secret

Karen looked at Ron, then down at the copper coin in his hand. So... The money that old woman spent all day looking for had been stolen by you? And nearly losing his life alongside Purr last night was all thanks to your sticky fingers? Then again, looking at it from another angle: When an employee stole something on the job, it seemed only natural for the victim to come knocking on the door of the family business's "young boss." However, that brought up a question: Had that old woman really been the beguiling aberrant demon? If she was, why was she lying in the morgue as an unclaimed corpse? If she wasn't, did that mean her mutation had been caused by this copper coin—which meant this coin could churn out beguiling aberrant demons in bulk? Yet looking at Ron's current slack-jawed, drooling state, Karen found it truly hard to draw any comparison between him and that old woman from last night, who possessed corpses and wielded supernatural tricks. Was it because Ron hadn't held the coin long enough? Or had the old woman not been an ordinary person in life? Hence the drastic difference in how the coin affected each of them. For now, the only thing certain was that something was definitely wrong with this copper coin. Karen remembered Purr mentioning something called a "sacred relic." Ordinary mortals had to undergo "purification" to become God's Servants, and "purification" required the aura of a "sacred relic." So was "sacred relic" merely a label, not strictly denoting a "holy object"? Just as Purr had said, were aberrant demons and priests fundamentally the same in essence? "My money... my money... my money..." Ron continued to drool, muttering under his breath. "Ron, what's wrong with you?" Paul seemed to notice something off about Ron. Karen raised his hand, intending to return the copper coin to Ron first to temporarily restore him to normal. Ron was an employee of the family; he wouldn't run away. Besides, they were almost home. Once there, Karen would call for Diss immediately. Letting Ron pocket the coin would just keep him happy for a few more minutes. However, just as Karen was about to hand the coin over, a heavy pang of reluctance surged up from the depths of his heart. The feeling was difficult to describe... It was like finding a penny by the side of the road—handing it over to a police officer was effortless. But if you found a gold brick on the sidewalk, even if you did surrender it to the police in the end, your conscience would undoubtedly go through some fierce internal struggle. No matter how noble one's character or how impeccable one's moral integrity, as long as one remained human, greed existed. Karen drew in a breath, steeled his resolve, and pressed the coin back into Ron's hand. Ron beamed at once, his expression snapping back to normal as he showered kisses on the copper coin. Meanwhile, an empty hollow of loss washed over Karen's heart. *I only held it for a brief moment, yet it already affected me this much?* The power of this copper coin was truly astonishing. After all, it was just made of copper—it wasn't worth much! The hearse finally pulled up outside the house. The last wave of mourners was filing out; today's condolences were at an end. "Whose funeral?" Karen asked Paul. "Old Darcy's," Paul answered. "Old Darcy?" Karen paused, surprised. "Who paid for his funeral expenses?" Old Darcy had family and relatives, but obviously, even with whatever extra graft a cremator managed to pocket on the side, his family would never bear the cost of holding a funeral for him at the Inmerles house. And Mrs. Hughes, the last person who had offered to arrange a lavish funeral for Old Darcy, was, in the eyes of the police, a fugitive who had fled to evade punishment. "Mrs. Hughes's assets were confiscated. The crematorium is being prepped for auction, and her remaining estate is prioritized for victim restitution," Paul replied. Uncle Mason, having just shut off the engine, turned back. "We're considering whether to take over the Hughes Crematorium." "What about the price?" Karen asked. "Not clear yet. In a couple of days, I'll take the auction officials out for dinner and see what kind of kickback they want. Nowadays, who actually enters an open auction without greasing a few palms first?" Paul and Ron worked together to lift Karen out of the comfortable coffin and onto a wheeled gurney. "Karen?" A familiar voice rang out. It was Piaget. He wore formal mourning attire today, clearly having come to attend Old Darcy's funeral. "Old Darcy did collect Linda's ashes for me, after all, so I came to pay my respects. And when I heard you were being discharged this afternoon, I stayed a bit longer." Piaget's smile remained warm, his voice gentle as ever. "One, two, three!" Paul and Ron lifted the gurney down from the hearse. Through carelessness, the copper coin clutched in Ron's hand slipped free and tumbled across the ground. Ron instinctively went to let go of the gurney to snatch the coin. Fortunately, Uncle Mason, who was standing nearby, hastily reached out and caught the gurney. Otherwise, Karen would have flipped over right outside his front door. Had his wounds reopened, he would have been sent straight back to the hospital before even crossing the threshold. Piaget bent down and picked up the copper coin. "Mine, mine, mine," Ron repeated incessantly, shambling toward Piaget. Piaget handed the coin back to Ron. What struck Karen as peculiar was that when Piaget surrendered the coin, his expression didn't change in the slightest; he maintained the same gentle smile. Yet Karen had held it for only a moment and felt a distinct pang of loss. So... Was it because Piaget was simply too wealthy? Did picking up a penny or picking up a gold bar make no difference to someone like him? "My copper coin, my copper coin." Ron cradled the coin to his chest as though holding an infant. Once Uncle Mason and Paul had set the gurney safely down, Mason marched over and delivered a swift kick that knocked Ron flat onto the ground. Even so, Ron clutched the copper coin tightly in his fist. "Have you lost your mind, Ron?!" Ron was unfazed, merely grinning like an idiot at Mason. Uncle Mason gritted his teeth, but said nothing further. With a grim expression, he helped Paul wheel Karen into the house. Piaget took off his hat and bade Karen farewell. "I'll come visit you in a few days. Rest well." "All right, Piaget." The gurney was wheeled into the parlor. If it were headed for the basement, that would have been easy—just rolling down the ramp. Fortunately, Paul and the others didn't let their occupational habits kick in this time. The gurney carrying Karen was carried up to the third floor and wheeled into his bedroom. Lunt, Mina, and Chris were at school today. Because Old Darcy's funeral was on the modest side, they hadn't been short on hands, so there was no need for the three of them to take the day off. Once Karen was settled into bed, Aunt Mary came in carrying some snacks and a glass of water. "Oh, my dear Karen, you've suffered so much. Now that you're home, just get plenty of rest. If you want anything to eat, just tell Auntie." Because of the incident involving Mrs. Hughes, Aunt Mary felt genuine, heartfelt guilt toward Karen. "Aunt Mary, is Grandfather home?" "Yes, yes, he's in the study." At that, Aunt Mary smiled. She knew Diss cared deeply about this grandson, but bound by his dignity as an elder, he couldn't bring himself to greet him in person. "I'll go call him." Before long, Diss appeared in the doorway. Karen didn't waste a single moment. Dispensing with any greetings or pleasantries, he blurted out: "Grandfather-Ron-has-a-copper-coin-stolen-from-that-old-woman's-corpse-in-the-hospital-morgue-the-beguiling-aberrant-demon-last-night-was-probably-looking-for-it-I-held-it-for-a-second-and-felt-drawn-to-it-and-it's-still-on-Ron-right-now! *Hiss... whew...*" Karen rattled it off in a single breath without pausing. He had no desire to waste time and have Diss go downstairs only to find Ron had already clocked out and gone home, creating a cascade of messy complications and trouble. Diss didn't linger either; he turned and walked right out. About two minutes later, Ron entered Karen's room, followed immediately by Diss, who closed the door behind him. "Master, did you need me for something?" Ron was still puzzled; even if it was about work, it ought to have been discussed in the study. "I slipped earlier by accident. I feel terrible about it, and it won't happen again." Ron could only assume he had been told on for nearly dropping the young master earlier. "Ron, give me that copper coin." "The copper coin?" Ron took the copper coin from his pocket, but kept it clenched in his hand. "Give it to me," Diss said. Diss carried immense authority. Ron took a deep breath, and finally, slowly opened his palm. Diss reached out and took the coin. Watching the coin leave his possession, Ron's eyes began to glaze over once more. "My money... my money... my money..." He muttered under his breath, lunging as if to snatch the coin back from Diss's hand. While inspecting the coin, Diss grabbed the back of Ron's neck with his other hand and clamped down. The pain drove Ron to his knees. Pinned under Diss's single hand, Ron lost all ability to resist, mucus dripping from his nose as though he were suffering severe withdrawal. "How did this end up here?" Diss murmured, looking slightly perplexed. Karen asked curiously, "What is it?" "A Source of Sin from the Church of Rax." "Source of Sin?" Referring to money as the source of sin wasn't inaccurate, Karen thought, even if a bit reductive. Diss had no intention of hiding anything from Karen. At the hospital, he had already promised that once Karen's injuries healed, he would tell him everything he wanted to know. "The Church of Rax has a vast following on the Eastern Desert Continent. Their creed advocates enduring suffering in this life in pursuit of the soul's liberation in the next. They demand that their believers remain austere in material matters and detached from anything beyond what is necessary for survival." Hearing Diss's explanation, Karen wasn't surprised by the tenets of the Church of Rax; he didn't even find them strange. Barring a few extreme exceptions, most orthodox religions pandered to the ruling class in their formative years, stressing patience and obedience among the common folk to erode destabilizing elements in the social fabric. The Church of Rax was a typical example, walking a path opposite to that of the Berry religion. Diss rubbed his thumb gently against the coin. "Legend has it that the True God Rax, deeply grieved by how the lure of wealth drove his people into endless wars, cast a bronze coffin inlaid with nine demonic serpents upon his death. "He then commanded his followers to gather the sources of sin from across the world and smelt them into nine Source of Sin coins, sealing them inside the bronze coffin alongside his corpse." As Diss spoke, Karen searched his memories—or rather, the memories of the previous Karen. "The Treasure of Rax?" "Indeed." Diss nodded. "Many imagine Rax's burial place to be a hidden trove piled high with treasure. It's a trope that appears in many novels and films." In the previous Karen's memories, there was an adventure novel where the protagonist discovered Rax's tomb and found the treasure, only to trigger the curse of Rax. Diss sat down beside Karen's bed and placed the copper coin before him. "Primarily because in the legends of the Church of Rax, the arrangements True God Rax made before his death look far too much like hoarding treasures to be buried with him. In truth, what Rax gathered and sealed within the bronze coffin was human greed. Greed condensed into nine coins, not mountains of material wealth. "Yet in retrospect, True God Rax's vision was far too idealistic and simplistic. Even if he genuinely gathered and sealed away all the greed across the lands of his followers back then, greed breeds anew—and it breeds swiftly." "So is this copper coin one of the nine Sources of Sin of Rax?" Karen asked. Diss shook his head. "No. If it were one of those nine, its influence wouldn't be limited to whoever holds it in their palm. Wherever it appeared, it could drive an entire city into a mad frenzy, tearing each other apart for it. "This was likely forged by a high-ranking priest of the Church of Rax, who, imitating True God Rax, gathered greed before his own death to create a funeral coin. "The function is similar, but its power and scope cannot compare to the handiwork of True God Rax. "I suspect that priest's tomb was robbed, causing this copper coin to enter circulation. Its exact era is likely lost to time. "Of course, for ordinary mortals, it still possesses tremendous beguiling power. After all, few ordinary mortals possess mental ramparts strong enough to withstand the impact of immense wealth. "Even if one can maintain one's sense of self at first, keeping it close for too long will easily lead to gradual corruption—until mutual influence turns into complete assimilation. "It is a 'sacred relic.' If classified within the hierarchy of the Church of Order, its ranking wouldn't be low." "How do you plan to deal with it, Grandfather?" "I will hand it over to superiors. Keeping it sealed at home wouldn't be secure. Once handed over, it will be properly dealt with." Hearing that it would be turned in, Karen felt an inexplicable twinge of reluctance. It wasn't about the monetary value, but rather that a "tool"—or "sacred relic"—with special properties always felt better kept by one's side. Like a squirrel hoarding pinecones, whether useful or not, hoarding it brought joy. Yet Grandfather was entirely right. If something went wrong keeping it at home, Karen might return one day to find his uncle, aunt, aunts, and all his younger cousins sitting there blankly, chanting over and over: "My money... my money..." Just imagining that scene sent a chill down his spine. "Then why was last night's beguiling aberrant demon so formidable?" Ron was still in a dazed, foolish state. Karen didn't believe that letting Ron wear this coin for ten days or a fortnight would ever grant him the terrifying power that old woman had displayed. "She was a diviner. When I examined her corpse in the morgue, I found certain tattoos on her body. She was likely an itinerant diviner, a Chaset." The previous Karen's memories held knowledge of the "Chaset." In Karen's view, this group was much like the Romani—a nomadic people who made a living primarily through three trades: fortune-telling, theft, and prostitution. Rojia City had small Chaset settlements as well. In Karen's memory, there was a scene from two years prior: a Chaset husband riding a motorcycle with his wife on the back had passed Karen walking home alone from school, warmly asking Karen if he wanted to try his wife's skills. Frightened out of his wits, Karen had fled home like a startled rabbit, which only deepened his autism. "So it's not just church priests who possess special abilities?" Karen asked. "Who told you this?" Diss asked. This already touched upon a systemic question. "Alfred told me." "Church priests are the mainstream," Diss explained. "Mainstream does not always mean the majority; rather, it means they can stand openly under the sun. In truth, many groups and individuals who do not belong to any church possess their own unique traditions and methods, and they too can wield the... special abilities you speak of." With that, Diss turned his gaze toward Ron on the floor. "Order... Purge!" From his bed, Karen saw a white light illuminate the tip of Diss's index finger before Diss pressed it against the center of Ron's forehead. Ron's body convulsed violently as wisps of black mist rose from his nose and mouth. Diss said, "Excessive mental dependence is also a disruption of Order." Witnessing this, Karen sorely wanted to ask Diss whether this spell could also be used to quit nicotine. Ron stopped convulsing and began to snore. Diss patted his face. *Slap! Slap!* Poor Ron was startled awake by the pain. "Master, what happened to me...?" Ron had clearly forgotten some things, or rather, his mind had been so captivated by the coin that he had been in a daze, like waking from a dream or blacking out from drinking. "Go home and sleep. Next time you're on duty, no dozing off." "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again, never again." Ron scrambled up immediately and scurried out of the room. Working for the Inmerles family paid well and was easier than factory work; he couldn't bear to lose it. After Ron left, Diss dropped the copper coin into the glass of water Aunt Mary had poured for Karen earlier. The coin hit the water with a crisp clink. "When you told me about Ron just now, you spoke very quickly and with great urgency." Diss tapped his ear, though he seemed also to be pointing at his mind. "Had I been a bit more senile, I might not have caught a word." Karen smiled faintly. "I just felt that when something is urgent and necessary, it ought to be said as quickly as possible without delay to prevent any accidents. If an accident did happen because of a delay, it would feel... rather foolish. Oh, no, Grandfather, I don't mean you." Diss nodded, pulled out the chair by the desk, turned it toward Karen, and sat down. "Then I will not delay either. Let me tell you about what concerns you right now. Which way do you prefer? I speak and you listen, or you ask and I answer?" "You speak first, Grandfather. After you're done, I'll ask." "Very well." "Your parents... were killed by my own hands...."