New Employees

Inside Mink Street Church. Diss handed a wooden box to a man in a black trench coat standing before him. The man opened the box and glanced at the copper coin sealed in glass within. "Lord Inquisitor, is this the replica of the Source of Sin?" "Yes." "Understood. I will deliver it to the Regional Administrative Office." The man closed the wooden box and affixed a seal across it that read: *Source of Sin (Replica);* *Do Not Touch.* "By the way, regarding the search warrant issued by the region two months ago..." Diss looked at him and answered, "I submitted my response to the search warrant a month ago." "Yes, the region received it. However, as you know, this matter is of grave importance. The General Council regards it with the utmost seriousness, so strict orders have been issued to every region—especially the Ruilan Region—to conduct another sweeping investigation." "Yet I don't even have an investigation checklist in hand. All I know is that unidentified individuals conducted a god descent ritual in Belwin City. Though from the region's reaction, I can infer that this ritual was of no small magnitude." "Lord Diss, I am merely relaying directives from above. What you do not know, I certainly cannot know either. Still, we must trouble you to prepare another investigation report." "Very well." "May the Light of Order shine forever." After offering a salute, the man took the box and walked toward the church exit. Diss remained where he was, tidying up the items on the table. Halfway to the door, the man suddenly paused and said, "Lord Diss, there is one more thing I heard." "Speak." "High Priest Rasma has arrived in Ruilan from the General Council. He will oversee the second investigation into the Belwin incident." "Why tell me this?" "Because I heard the Regional Guardian mention that you share a deep friendship with High Priest Rasma." "And?" "If possible, the Guardian hopes you might put in a good word before Lord Rasma. If the Belwin incident remains unresolved, quite a few lords in the Ruilan Region worry they will face censure from the General Council." "I am merely an Inquisitor. Affairs among high lords should be resolved by the high lords themselves." Having gathered his things, Diss walked toward the door. As he reached the man's side, he halted. "Are you a God's Revelation?" "No, I am a God's Servant." Diss smiled faintly. "Your act is far from convincing." The Church of Order considered it their sacred duty to guard the Light of Order. Those who revered order often understood all the more clearly the importance of maintaining it; hence, within the Church of Order existed an immensely powerful department solely dedicated to overseeing the church itself, known as the 'Whip of Order.' They functioned much like a nation's military police. The man bowed his head in a posture of deference. Diss said nothing more and stepped out of the church. The man lifted his head, stroked the wooden box in his hands, and murmured under his breath, "In truth, Lord Diss... your act is far from convincing either." *** "This really is... a deposit generous enough to take one's breath away." In the ground-floor living room, Uncle Mason held the contract and gazed at the thick stack of bills beside it, deeply emotional. Soon, however, the professional vigilance of a former financial worker stirred doubts within him. "A deposit of a hundred thousand lubi, paid directly in cash rather than by check?" "What's wrong with cash?" Aunt Mary asked. "It spares us a trip to the bank to verify authenticity." "My dear, aside from the few who truly love hoarding and using physical bills, most people use such large sums of cash for one main reason: to avoid a paper trail." At this point, Uncle Mason shot a glance toward Karen, who sat opposite him, and asked, "Karen, do you think there's some minor issue with their side?" Karen shook his head. Uncle Mason let out a sigh of relief, but Karen's next words froze him in place. "It isn't a minor issue. I think it's a huge issue." "A huge issue?" Uncle Mason was bewildered. "A multi-person funeral booked so far in advance, as if they are absolutely certain that whole family will die at the exact same time." "Well, that can actually be explained," Aunt Mary said. "Some families, due to unique traditions or religious customs, preserve the bodies of relatives who pass away first. They wait until an entire generation has died before holding a joint funeral, believing they can enter heaven or somewhere similar hand in hand." "Ah, that makes sense. The gentleman did say their family shared a deep bond." "So that's how it is," Uncle Mason said with a chuckle. "Doesn't matter anyway. The tax bureau won't come snooping around here." As if to bolster his own confidence, Uncle Mason added, "We handled the funerals for both the first and second wives of the tax bureau director, and we didn't charge him a single cent." Karen smiled. "So our family has never actually paid taxes, have we?" "We do pay taxes! I pay the environmental protection fees and the funeral business license maintenance fees on time every month. As for income tax on our revenue... Winnie?" Uncle Mason called out to Aunt Winnie, who managed the books. Winnie happened to walk over carrying a cup of coffee and chimed in, "Because our business performance is dreadful, operating at a perpetual loss. If not for the welfare cases provided by government departments, we wouldn't even be able to keep our doors open." Karen nodded. "Understood." In truth, he had only received his salary and dividend for the previous month yesterday. His salary consisted of a base wage plus a commission from psychological counseling fees. The base wage was three thousand lubi, roughly on par with Ron's. Whenever they were shorthanded, Karen had to help transport bodies, effectively serving as the third on-staff body mover. The commission came from the split on two counseling sessions. He took a fifty percent cut and handed fifty percent over to the family, which amounted to two thousand lubi. Thus, his salary was five thousand lubi. However, his dividend as a family member was thirty thousand lubi. The dividend was an astonishing figure, primarily bolstered by Mrs. Seymour's order. The casket Mrs. Seymour had selected for Mr. Seymour cost as much as two hundred thousand lubi; on that single coffin alone, the Inmerlais family pulled in a profit of one hundred thousand lubi. Small wonder Aunt Mary grew visibly excited every time she heard 'Package B.' In fact, had the recent order for the young girl not been carried out at a loss, last month's dividend would have been even more staggering. In other words, Karen's earnings for that single month already exceeded a normal laborer's annual wage. It was no surprise that Mena, the young nurse, didn't mind his family's line of work in the slightest. In the face of such enormous dividend income, those corpses—no, those esteemed guests—could seem thoroughly amiable. Yet the person with the highest actual income in the household was Aunt Mary, because she held the 'high ground of expertise.' Skilled body movers, salesmen, and respectable-looking priests were not difficult to find, but an exceptional mortuary cosmetician was genuinely rare. The more a client was willing to spend, the higher their demands on the mortician's craft. Consequently, Aunt Mary's earnings topped everyone else's. Package B orders were rare windfalls, of course, and sky-high dividends were not guaranteed every month, but even during the off-season, a dividend usually hovered around five thousand lubi. "By the way, I found out the reserve price for Hughes Crematorium," Uncle Mason said, spreading his hands. "Five hundred thousand lubi for the land, factory buildings, equipment, and business license all together. It's quite a bargain. Most of the cost is in the land value and the operating license." Aunt Mary scoffed. "The land value is hollow." The area where Hughes Crematorium was situated was far from needing residential development, nor was Rojia City facing severe population pressure. That plot could only ever serve for industrial facilities; trying to turn a profit by flipping it would yield very little. "Still, that's the asking price from above. Besides, the business license is the hardest thing to obtain. I think the price is quite reasonable. The authorities indicated that if our family pays the sum directly, Hughes Crematorium can become Inmerlais Crematorium right away." Aunt Winnie reminded them, "There isn't that much money in the public account. Remember, dividends are distributed every month." Diss was no miser. The family paid out dividends monthly, leaving only basic operational funds in the shared account. Aunt Winnie took a sip of coffee. "So if we want to acquire Hughes Crematorium, everyone in the family will have to pour their personal savings back into the shared pool. Afterward, the combined profits from both the funeral parlor and the crematorium can repay it. "More importantly, the previous operating condition of Hughes Crematorium was barely at a break-even stage. Its profit margins were modest, far lower than ours. "Even if we acquire it and integrate it into our funeral parlor, the increase in profits will remain limited, as most wealthy clients prefer traditional burials. "And we can't very well offer cheap memorial services to budget clients who only seek cremation; that would cannibalize our core business. "On top of that, Mrs. Hughes is a fugitive wanted for murder, Old Darcy is dead, and the two original workers quit long ago. We would need to hire a whole new staff. "Who will manage it? "Mason, will you go? "Or Karen? "Both of you have duties here at home." "Madam Winnie," Paul's timid voice sounded from outside. He walked in, looking somewhat bashful. "I was sitting outside just now and overheard your conversation. Ron heard it too." To prove he hadn't deliberately eavesdropped, Paul pulled Ron in beside him. "Yeah, that's right," Ron poked his head in and nodded. "What of it? This is family business, and you are part of our firm. There was never any need to hide it from you," Uncle Mason said. "Thank you, sir." Paul drew a breath and said, "Sir, ma'am, young master... if possible, I would like to invest my savings into Hughes Crematorium. At the same time, I can take charge of the operations over there." "Are you out of your mind, Paul? What money do you have to invest?" Ron chuckled. "I have a hundred thousand lubi." "Only a hund—hundred thousand lubi?!" Ron shrieked. "Good grief, how on earth do you have that much money!" Ron and Paul had worked as body movers for the Inmerlais family for years. However, Ron spent his paycheck to the last cent every month and even borrowed money on occasion, whereas Paul had diligently saved everything. Aunt Winnie said, "It's not out of the question. Still, regarding the specific equity shares, I will need to draw up a formal plan." "Yes, ma'am." Aunt Mary asked with a smile, "Looks like your moon-viewing was a success, Paul?" Paul nodded shyly. "Yes. That's why I hope to build a bit of a career for myself, so she can have a better life." Ron said sourly, "Why is it for *her* and not for *him*—meaning me?" Uncle Mason raised a hand. "If we proceed with this plan, won't we need to hire another hand here?" Aunt Mary stretched lazily and reminded them, "Preferably two. I also need a female assistant. Mina and Lunt are entering high school soon; they can't keep taking time off to help out whenever we have work at home, unless we decide they should inherit the family business right now." Clearly, Aunt Mary did not want Mina and Lunt's lives mapped out so early. Even if they went out into the wider world like their father and returned only after facing setbacks, at least they would have seen the sights beyond. "All right. What about Paul's side?" Uncle Mason asked. "The crematorium will need staff too. Which account covers that? Should we recruit for both together?" Paul spoke up immediately. "My mother can handle odd chores. Also, my fiancée and her parents can all work at the crematorium. I can drive, too. There won't be any problem." Uncle Mason teased, "Well, look at you! You're bringing your wife's entire family into the crematorium." Aunt Winnie lifted the ledger and looked around at everyone present. "Father has always been indifferent to such matters. So, if no one here objects, I will draft the proposal. After that, please guard your private savings well and prepare to hand them over." The family meeting concluded. The next day, Uncle Mason posted a help-wanted notice by the front gate. On the third day, Aunt Winnie finished drafting the acquisition and equity plan. The purchase price was five hundred thousand lubi. Factoring in the various new equipment needed, the shared account required a total of seven hundred thousand lubi. Deducting Paul's hundred-thousand-lubi investment left six hundred thousand to raise. Divided among the five family members, including Karen, each needed to contribute a hundred and twenty thousand lubi. Karen contributed sixty thousand lubi. Combining the previous 'Karen's' private savings, the remainder of Piaget's counseling fee, and his income and dividend from the past month, he barely scraped together sixty thousand. The remaining sixty thousand was split equally and covered by his uncle, aunt, Winnie, and his grandfather, to be deducted proportionally from Karen's future monthly dividends to repay the debt. Another reason the budget was so large was that the Inmerlais family's old hearse was credited toward the family's equity investment in the crematorium and handed over for Paul to use. Meanwhile, the family needed to purchase a brand-new hearse—no longer a modified 'Nutshell,' but a proper, purpose-built vehicle produced by an automobile company. It was expensive, costing a hefty one hundred and sixty thousand lubi. Uncle Mason went to pick up the hearse in exceptionally high spirits. However, a student demonstration blocked traffic, leaving him stuck behind the wheel until well past midnight before he finally managed to get home. Exhausted, Uncle Mason cursed the students throughout dinner, roping Lunt into a scolding along the way. The next day, when Uncle Mason took the funds to finalize the payment, he was held up on the return trip by striking workers, again arriving home past midnight. At dinner, he gave Lunt another round of scolding. In short, the Inmerlais household was very busy these days, and Rojia City was busier still. Every morning as Karen read the newspaper over breakfast, he could sense that a storm was truly brewing. Mainly, the front-page editorials by Chief Editor Hummel in the family's subscribed *Rojia Daily* laid the groundwork a bit too overtly, acting as though the old mayor's defeat in the upcoming election was already a foregone conclusion and eagerly lining up behind the new faction in advance. "Looks like the old mayor is in trouble this time," Karen remarked, sipping his milk. Uncle Mason dismissed it lightly. "Nonsense. The old mayor has ironclad support from the industrial districts. Besides, throughout his years as mayor, while he may not have achieved greatness, he hasn't done poorly either. Didn't he successfully persuade the protesting workers to disperse yesterday?" "Perhaps." Karen turned another page of the newspaper. It featured a photograph of Delice. *Hmm. She's quite young, yet carries herself with such precocious maturity.* *How could Lunt have fallen for her?* On second thought, Purr had mentioned that Lunt had already begun taking matters into his own hands, so to speak. Framed that way, it made sense. Having been scolded by Mason over breakfast for two consecutive mornings, Lunt had risen early today, grabbing his food to eat on the way to school. "Oh, right, Karen. I need to head out shortly for another errand regarding the crematorium's paperwork. Two applicants are coming for interviews at noon. I've already prescreened them and settled the basic compensation. Just give them a final review when they arrive." "If everything is settled, why do they still need a review?" "Well, I haven't finalized the agreement outright. You can take this opportunity to instill our Inmerlais Funeral Parlor's corporate culture into them." "Oh, all right." Karen nodded, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to ask what their family's corporate culture actually was. "Today is the fourteenth, isn't it?" "Yes. They reserved four days, starting today." Uncle Mason smiled. "Let's hope they hold out for all four days." Earning a deposit while lying flat was always delightful. After breakfast, Uncle Mason drove off in the new hearse. Karen stayed in his bedroom study reading. He had asked Mina to borrow numerous books on 'religion' from the municipal library. Ever since awakening in this world, he had found little use for mathematics, physics, or chemistry, whereas 'theology' seemed ubiquitous. Even in the best-case scenario—where he encountered no bizarre occurrences and his grandfather Diss was truly just an ordinary elderly priest—one still had to deal with clients of diverse faiths. Karen took notes as he read. He continued until barking drifted up from the courtyard below. A dog barking was nothing unusual; that foolish dog loved to bark at nothing when bored. Because Mr. Hoffen—who had nearly died, been revived, lingered on the verge of death, and then stubbornly held on—was still waging a grueling battle against the Grim Reaper, refusing to draw his final breath, the golden retriever remained at the Inmerlais residence. Yet alongside the barking, Karen also caught the sound of a cat meowing. Even Purr was crying out? Karen pushed open the window and spotted a man and a woman standing at the courtyard gate. They were likely the new applicants arriving for the interview. Karen stepped out of the bedroom and went downstairs. As he descended, he wondered to himself: *Our family's corporate culture? How on earth should I make that up?* He crossed the ground-floor living room and reached the doorway. In an instant, his footsteps froze. The woman in the black top hat looked up as Karen approached. *Nas...* On that night, it was this very face—this nurse in her uniform—that had nearly killed both him and Purr. After a fleeting moment of shock, Karen remembered who had carried Nas's corpse away. So the Nas standing before him was... Ms. Molly? Then the man beside her had to be... The man removed his hat and offered Karen a smile. Alfred! Karen turned, walked back into the living room, and sat down on the sofa. Alfred and Ms. Molly pushed open the unlocked courtyard gate and followed him inside. Looking at Ms. Molly in the guise of 'Nas,' Karen found it remarkably hard to get used to. Perhaps Ms. Molly's original appearance had left too indelible an impression. As for Alfred, though he wore traditional casual attire rather than a tailored suit today, he could not conceal his meticulous, composed elegance. Sitting on the sofa, Karen looked at the two of them and asked, "You came here to..." Alfred and Ms. Molly dropped to one knee before Karen simultaneously and spoke in unison: "Whenever Your Greatness requires, we shall heed your summons!" Just then, Aunt Mary, who had been organizing her tools in the basement, heard the commotion on the ground floor. She recalled her husband mentioning that two new employees would arrive during the day, one of whom would serve as her female assistant. Her husband had also mentioned that he asked Karen to preach the Inmerlais family's corporate culture to them. She had asked her husband what their corporate culture even was. Mason's reply had been: *I don't know either, but I'm sure Karen can cook something up.* Finally, Mason had joked: *He can already provide psychological counseling; he'll surely win over the new employees completely. Who knows, he might even convince them to work for us without taking a wage!* Curious, Aunt Mary walked up the ramp, intending to listen in on this 'corporate culture.' Yet the moment she stepped into the living room, she saw the two new employees—a man and a woman—kneeling before her nephew Karen. Aunt Mary clapped a hand over her mouth in fright. *Good heavens...* *Is our family's corporate culture really that powerful?!*