"Every person is like a spider spinning a web in life.
Whether in longing or in fear, in some unforeseen moment, their web will inevitably intertwine with another's.
This interconnected web can grow vast—vast enough to give you the illusion that you can go wherever your heart desires.
Yet it can also be exceedingly small—so fragile that a passing gust can easily blow away the grandeur you took for granted."
This was the epitaph engraved beneath Mr. Hoffen's tombstone, personally designed, written, and commissioned by Karen.
The words were many and the sentences rather long, but fortunately, Mr. Hoffen's grave was quite large—large enough to match a joint tomb for a married couple. Leaving it without more words would only have made it look overly bare.
Karen felt that he and Mr. Hoffen had been like spiderwebs that never should have intersected in the first place; their first contact had ended terribly.
Yet in the end,
it was this old man who, through sheer, unyielding willpower, stubbornly held out to help the Inmerlais family "clear their suspicion."
And the sole bearer of that suspicion had actually been Karen himself.
Today, Diss was not wearing his clerical robes. He simply stood silently before the tombstone, gazing at the photograph upon it.
Karen led the mourners through the burial service, and at the end, took up a shovel himself to fill in the earth with the family's staff.
Finally, everyone laid their flowers before the tombstone. The ceremony was over.
Karen took a glass of water from Mina, took a deep drink, and walked over to Diss, offering him the cup.
Diss took the glass, held it in his hand, and said, "I'll stay with Hoffen a little longer. You have something else to do today, don't you?"
"Yes. Mina invited Teacher Eunice to the amusement park."
Diss nodded. "Don't delay too long."
Karen really wanted to ask Diss: since all suspicion regarding the god descent ritual had been completely averted through prior arrangements, what was it that was driving Diss to "urge" him like this?
Still, since Diss was unwilling to say, Karen would not press the matter.
Karen bowed half-depth toward the tombstone. "Grandpa Hoffen, I'm off on a date with a pretty young lady. I'll come visit you again next time."
Afterward,
Karen walked to the small road beside the cemetery. Alfred was already waiting by the car and opened the door for him.
"Rhine Street."
"Right away, Young Master."
Alfred started the engine.
Karen initially intended to close his eyes and rest. He had poured a great deal of thought into Mr. Hoffen's funeral, and this morning he had broken his usual internal clock to rise early. One could say the family had given Mr. Hoffen's funeral an even higher level of care than they had for Mr. Mordes, who chose Package B.
Of course, this wasn't about money.
It was like a chef cooking for guests versus cooking for his own family: cooking for family might be a bit more casual without as much fuss over plating, but the flavor and heart behind it were understood by family alone.
Just then, Karen noticed several newspapers laid out before him, each neatly folded to the relevant sections.
Karen opened one: *Mr. Morf Critically Ill; Morf Syndicate May Face Restructuring?*
Mr. Morf had long been dead—or rather, "completely disappeared." Clearly, the Morf family had chosen not to disclose the news, covering it up instead, as it involved disputes over property and power within their ranks.
*Environmentalist Girl Gives Passionate Speech Aboard Cruise Ship!*
There was a photo included: Delice, aboard a cruise liner heading back to Wien, delivering an environmental speech with a contorted, ferocious expression, perfectly exemplifying what it meant to try too hard.
Then came the news genuinely concerning Rojia City's political landscape:
*Mayoral Candidate Mr. Ford and Councilman Mr. Haggett Plunge into Reservoir in Fatal Car Accident; Vehicle Destroyed, Both Perish.*
*Former Mayor Sixen Accused of Illegal Tactics Against Competitors; Investigation Underway as He Resigns as Mayor of Rojia City and Renounces Next Candidacy.*
Mr. Oca was not in the papers; his identity was mysterious to begin with, likely backed by Wien connections.
The disappearance of Chief Editor Hummel was not reported either, as his status wasn't high enough to warrant it.
"Young Master, a special department likely intervened. It sits above the police, specializing in investigating and resolving aberrant demon incidents," Alfred explained.
"So Ford and Haggett's cause of death was fabricated by them as well?"
"Most likely, to prevent public panic. After all, we didn't conceal our actions that night; the crime scenes were left with clear traces of aberrant demons and power of faith. Any proper investigation would uncover leads."
In Karen's mind surfaced the man with the hooked nose and the woman in the grey gown.
"Will there be trouble?" Karen asked.
"There shouldn't be. Our actions that night strictly adhered to the *Code of Order*. As long as the Master submits an after-action report, the Church of Order will handle communication with the local government and secret police.
"It is a minor matter."
Alfred gave slight emphasis to that last sentence.
As long as the Church of Order remained powerful, they represented absolute justice—whether substantive or procedural.
"Even if the incident has a significant impact on social strata, and an ordinary Inquisitor might face disciplinary action from the district diocese for doing so, the Master shouldn't bear such concerns. Please do not worry, Young Master."
Alfred still vividly remembered the exchange from that night:
"Grandfather, are you injured?"
"It's nothing. Just a slight side effect of using a forbidden curse."
Alfred reflected that it was truly fortunate the Master had only used spells at the Inquisitor level during their clash; otherwise, Alfred probably wouldn't even exist anymore.
"Alfred."
"Yes, Young Master?"
"Grandfather seems to intend for me to go to Wien."
"Wien? That is a splendid place. A grand nation, a grand city, a grand stage. Compared to it, Rojia City is like a quiet hamlet at the foot of a mountain."
"What I mean is, Grandfather might be facing trouble."
"The retainers of great entities always encounter some trouble, yet they invariably resolve it. Even if they cannot overcome it for a time, once the great entity fully awakens, he will choose to resurrect them in return for the kindness of safeguarding him in the initial stages of his awakening."
Karen frowned slightly.
Alfred hastily explained, "Many stories in the murals are like that."
Karen couldn't be bothered to engage.
"Young Master, are you heading to Rhine Street to pick up Teacher Eunice?"
"Yeah. Mina invited her teacher to the amusement park."
"Oh?" Alfred glanced back. "I forgot to let Miss Mina into the car."
Karen waved a hand. "Mina's stomach is upset. She can't go."
...
The guests had long since departed, leaving Diss alone before the tombstone.
Diss sat down silently, leaning against the stone.
"I'd really like to call you back with the Awakening Technique just to chat a little longer."
Of course, that was merely talk.
The Church of Order's "Awakening" could indeed reanimate a corpse, but such resurrection lasted only a very brief time. Once the final trace of spirituality vanished from the body, it would completely turn into rotten flesh.
Thus, from the standpoint of the Church of Order, resting in peace in the earth truly carried peace.
Diss opened the water glass once more, took a sip, and set the open glass down in front of the tombstone.
"Precisely because the God of Order demanded nothing, my heart is all the more uneasy.
"Things that are free often turn out to be the most expensive.
"The bitterest irony is that,
"in order to make an offering, I unsealed myself beforehand, leaving me entirely unable to suppress my realm any longer.
"Before long,
"the Temple of Order will sense my presence.
"They will extend an invitation, bestowing what they consider the supreme honor: for me to enter the Temple as one of its Elders to serve the God of Order in the unseen.
"Yet I have no wish to go.
"To everyone else in the Church of Order—no, to most people in today's so-called orthodox faiths—the Temple has always been the holiest sanctuary in believers' hearts.
"For every person who enters the Temple and becomes a Temple Elder, their family receives a blessing from the true god. If they have no family of their own, they can designate a favored allied family to inherit that blessing.
"And that family will continue to serve as the backbone of the church for generations to come, receiving greater blessings from the power of faith.
"Yet I do not wish to serve a so-called true god I no longer believe in.
"Still less am I willing to let my family, my descendants, sink even deeper into the quagmire of this church.
"And yet,
"they will never permit me to refuse.
"It is not merely that they cannot permit me to apostatize in faith; more importantly, they cannot permit me to defect in body.
"In an era where true gods no longer walk the world,
"I even suspect
"that what sustains the true gods is no longer divine radiance, but a bolster the temples provide by converting the faith of believers.
"Everything you possess is granted by God;
"therefore, God has every right to take back what belongs to him.
"Old Hoffen,
"do you know?
"The closer you get to that height,
"the more you feel
"that the faith we trust without doubt, the piety we hold toward God, all that we guard, nurture, and resolve...
"may just be a seed.
"God
"gave us the seed—that was God's grace.
"Once the seed bears fruit,
"God will come again to harvest it, and we must still be eternally grateful.
"We
"are merely fertilizer for God."
Diss's gaze gradually deepened.
"Perhaps my thoughts are flawed, and my perceptions extreme. Perhaps I misunderstood God and have long since fallen, becoming a heretic straying from orthodoxy.
"Yet each of us lives only in the world as seen through our own eyes.
"I cannot allow myself to become fertilizer—only for my descendants to become better fertilizer in return.
"Hoffen,
"I will not permit myself to make such a choice in the world through my eyes."
Diss looked back at the photograph on the tombstone.
He picked up the glass and stood.
"Soon, it will be time to take off the mask."
...
Alfred's car pulled over on Rhine Street, deliberately stopping short of the teacher's house.
"Young Master, I'll step out and take a taxi back."
Karen asked, "Alfred, tell me, if I drove a hearse to a date, do you think it would produce a better effect?"
Alfred blinked at the question.
"That, your subordinate wouldn't know. But your subordinate does know one thing: if Mr. Mason had driven a hearse to pick up Mrs. Mary for a candlelit dinner back then, Mina and Lunt probably wouldn't exist today."
"You make a lot of sense."
"People have different aesthetic tastes and romantic sentiments. You must have grown fond of the hearse lately, Young Master, or perhaps let your thoughts wander while riding in it, naturally developing a certain attachment to hearses. Of course, normal people usually wouldn't have such thoughts.
"However, it might actually produce surprising results. Miss Eunice was raised in an aristocratic household bound by strict etiquette; unconventional gestures might leave a deeper impression on her.
"It's just like how many schoolgirls fancy street ruffians and hoodlums. Their underdeveloped brains and immature worldviews mistake that rebelliousness for a masculine ideal. Though they'll realize how foolish they were once they mature, it doesn't at all diminish their obsession with the feeling at that age."
"Did you host relationship talk shows before?" Karen asked.
"*Rojia Story Hour* did all kinds of broadcasts. In fact, compared to horror stories, relationship analysis shows drew higher listenership. After all, you have to consider the demographic that has the leisure to listen to the radio late at night."
"Understood."
"Have a pleasant weekend, Young Master."
Alfred reached out to open the car door, then paused and asked, "Young Master, should I take it back with me?"
A black cat slowly poked its head out from the back seat.
Karen truly hadn't noticed that Purr had snuck into the car and stayed there all along. Still, while Purr could hide from him, she couldn't escape Alfred's eyes.
"Karen, I feel obliged to watch over you. It's my duty as an elder."
Karen let out a laugh. "I've never seen an elder sneak along on their junior's date."
"You think they don't want to? It's only because they don't have an advantage like mine. If they were a cat, ask them then whether they'd want to follow along."
"Sorry, but I don't care for that feeling."
"I'm just a cat. On your date, you could have Eunice hold me. Imagine the picture: a gorgeous, lovely young lady cradling an adorable cat with sleek, glossy fur—how poetic."
"Except that cat happens to be her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother."
"I think tacking on '... 's sister' would be more accurate."
"It would feel weird to me. Sorry."
"Weird?" Purr extended a paw. "Shouldn't it be more thrilling?"
"Alfred, take her home. Your task today is to stay home and watch her."
"Understood, Young Master."
Alfred forcibly carried Purr out of the car. Karen slid into the driver's seat and drove forward.
"I feel so melancholy," Purr said. "Watching a descendant of my own family get reeled in by a man with ulterior motives is truly distressing for a cat."
"No need to be distressed. If your descendant seizes this opportunity, she'll make it onto the murals in the future."
"Is your life's goal just to get onto a mural? You're obsessed with murals, I've noticed."
Alfred shook his head. "My life's goal is not to get onto a mural, but once my life's goal is fulfilled, getting onto a mural is an inevitability."
"Perhaps because I've been a cat for too many years, I don't care much for grand ambitions. I only focus on what's right in front of me, like boiled fish with pickled greens, squirrel mandarin fish, that sort of thing.
"Oh, and one more thing: Diss is utterly shameless, and his evil god grandson is just as shameless.
"Just how shameless must grandfather and grandson be to set their sights on an innocent nineteen-year-old girl?
"If I were human right now, believe me, I'd drag Karen to the crematorium's incinerator, dangle his hair right over the sparks, and ask him: 'Do you dare do it again? Do you dare?!'"
Alfred smiled.
"What are you smiling at? Do you think I'll never turn back into a human? Little brat, don't let your polished look fool you; back when I was still human, I wouldn't have spared you a second glance."
"Then please, by all means, change back quickly."
...
As he passed Piaget and Mrs. Seymour's residences, Karen deliberately sped up slightly and turned his face away.
Fortunately, the dreaded scenario of being recognized and hailed down did not happen.
After all, neither Piaget nor Mrs. Seymour would idle around by their gates staring blankly at the road ahead, waiting for him to drive past in his Santland.
Finally, Karen pulled up outside Eunice's house.
At the gate, a woman dressed like an aristocratic lady was truly standing there, gazing down the street—as though she genuinely had nothing better to do than wait for him to appear in his Santland.
Her brows and eyes bore a clear resemblance to Eunice's. Calling her an aristocratic lady was purely a matter of dress and bearing, for she was not at all stout.
Karen stepped out and walked up to the courtyard gate.
The lady lit a cigarette, looked at Karen, and asked, "Are you here for my daughter?"
"Yes. Is Teacher Eunice home?"
Karen wore a warm, sunny smile.
The lady smiled. Holding her cigarette in one hand, she secretly reached behind with the other and gave her own backside a sharp pinch, using the sting to stay composed against the lethal charm of that smile. She absolutely could not show that look of a mother-in-law growing fonder by the second.
Still, a son-in-law like this—even if he did nothing at all and just sat at home like a decorative vase—would be quite pleasing to gaze upon every day.
For the first time, she felt her resistance soften toward the "blind date" arranged by her father-in-law.
Granted, choosing a son-in-law couldn't be based on looks alone, or married life would inevitably bring all sorts of troubles and arguments... But who could guarantee marriage without troubles, fights, or anger?
So why not choose a face that was far easier on the eyes when you were mad?
"Oh~ and are you Mina? My daughter said she had plans to visit the amusement park today with her female student."
"Mina is my cousin, Madam."
"Oh~ then your cousin Mina must have unfortunately fallen ill today—perhaps a stomachache or something—and couldn't make it, is that right?"
"Yes, Madam. Is divination a hobby of yours? You're remarkably accurate."
"No. I'm simply a mother who has given birth to three children."
"You keep yourself in wonderful shape. I assumed Eunice was your only daughter."
"Oh-ho-ho-ho..."
*Hold it in!*
"Heh~ young man, you certainly have a silver tongue. I bet you could talk the dead right back to life."
"Heh heh, you're joking, Madam. How could that be possible?"
Chapter 49