Look and See, Who Am I?

Vicolai's cry of "Dad" sent an uproar through the entire hall. Those permitted to observe the trial here were all priests of status and standing; virtually none were mere passersby. Everyone knew Vicolai's background, and everyone knew that the old man in the VIP gallery whom Vicolai had just called "Dad" was supposed to be his grandfather. Yet now, his grandfather in the eyes of the law had become his father by blood. Such a bizarre breach of family ethics was inherently sensational, and the scandal only multiplied with the elevated social status of those involved. Those who had attended the trial from the beginning could not help cheering in their hearts. The spectacles today had not merely been thrilling—they had arrived in relentless waves, leaving no room to breathe. Those who had hurried over halfway through felt the trip was worth every second. Though they had missed the brilliant first half, they had caught the even more gripping second half—and right at the end came this astonishing bonus surprise. While the spectators in the hall maintained some degree of decorum and restraint, the priests watching before the broadcast arrays across the city were far less inhibited. At broadcast hubs outside the Yorktown Region, the rooms erupted into piercing whistles and catcalls. In the eyes of commoners, priests were solemn and austere figures. But within their own circles, they were no different from ordinary people; they had every normal emotion, and they smiled just as happily when biting into sweet melon. As for the journalists on the scene, their eyes flared green like a pack of ravenous wolves. As the foremost divine church in the world today, every movement of the Church of Order was major news. An internal power struggle intertwined with salacious family scandal would inevitably explode across the press. A single front-page headline would never suffice; this demanded a serialized exposé. Newspapers run by the Church served not only as internal propaganda but also as battlegrounds for external public opinion. Naturally, they had sales targets and performance pressures just like secular publications, except that readers paid for them in coupons. Neo understood that the department's specially approved activity funds had now officially turned into pocket money. He could even leak behind-the-scenes details of the investigation to the press and pocket interview fees from the journalists. So why wouldn't he? If he had a little extra cash on hand, Neo truly wanted to remodel his drafty office. On second thought, if he renovated it nicely only to get promoted again, wouldn't he just be decorating it for Karen? Close as they were, unilateral sacrifices on his part would surely upset the balance of their friendship. Best to stick to his rugged frugality. "Things will be much easier to handle now," Neo said to Bernie before him. Bernie nodded. "Care to guess whether the Regional Chief is slapping himself in the face in his office right now?" *** Karen was also momentarily taken aback. He genuinely had not anticipated such a relationship between Vicolai and Dolph. No, a relationship had always existed between them, but it was far deeper and more intimate than he had imagined. Karen merely sneered in his heart. How should he put it? It was like the feeling when, after seizing the upper hand through your own hard work, even the winds began blowing in your favor. "Damn! They play that wild?" Richard's eyes went wide. Philomena glanced at Richard. First someone had cried out for her mother, and now someone had immediately started shouting for his father. Old Delon and Mr. Aisen immediately adjusted the broadcast array, locking the perspective entirely on Bishop Dolph and giving him a prominent close-up, as if terrified that the viewers across the array might miss a single twitch of his expression. Wolflen's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Dolph beside him. He had known the Norton family was a pile of foul filth, but he had never imagined it could stink to this extent. In truth, such things were not unheard of. The sordid deeds inside prominent aristocratic clans were limited only by one's imagination—take the Wien royal family, a universally recognized swamp of depravity. Yet fanning the flames at this exact juncture painted the situation in the worst possible light. Luoya was thoroughly satisfied with the effect of her "prank." Still, it was truly time for her to return; her task in coming here was finished. Pretending to cast a casual glance forward, she took one last look at Brother Karen, only to find him looking right back at her. Joy instantly blossomed in her heart. Sometimes, a young girl's heart was so small that a single gaze was enough to fill it. Luoya's attachment to Karen stemmed partly from their interactions at the sausage factory, but the core bond came from that night when Karen had used his Chains of Order to reassemble her scattered consciousness. Strictly speaking, it had not been an awakening, but it was equivalent to granting Luoya new life. In that moment, she had felt every scattered piece of herself being scooped up by Karen and gently pieced back together, an experience of utmost warmth and gentleness. *Sigh, who knows when I'll get to see Brother Karen again? Still, Brother Karen seems to get promoted very quickly. In just a few years, he might qualify to lease me.* *Keep it up, Brother Karen! Luoya will be waiting for you~* Karen watched Luoya's figure fly into the spatial rift. As the girl departed, a touch of melancholy brushed his heart. Every time he encountered Luoya, she helped him out. For someone older like him, it always felt slightly awkward; as an artifact spirit, Luoya's true age was precisely what she appeared to be. He would see in the future. They would surely meet again. Once he secretly recovered that piece of the Laks copper coin in the waters near Wien, he could use the mask his grandfather had left him to visit Luoya and chat with her regularly. By comparison, Karen felt Neo had it easy. Neo had saved coupons for so long just to assemble that luxury vehicle, whereas his own grander goal seemed to be redeeming a divine artifact. "Silence!" *Crack!* A whip cracked through the air, and the courtroom finally fell quiet. Only Vicolai's wails as he knelt on the floor remained, making the surrounding silence all the more pronounced. Gasper spoke: "By the judgment of this court, the defendant, Vicolai, is found guilty. The court now sentences him to—Obliteration. The court is adjourned." With that, Gasper and her fellow judges stood and left the bench. The penalty of Obliteration was the highest grade among first-class punishments. Above it, however, lay second-class and third-class penalties. For example, extracting someone's soul, nourishing it daily while roasting it over flames, and torturing them for decades—such torment belonged to the second class, ensuring a fate worse than death. Another method involved sealing the physical body and projecting the consciousness into an illusion for cycles of endless nightmares, waking the convict at set intervals just to let them know they were being punished before plunging them back in. That belonged to the third class. Yet not everyone could enjoy second- and third-class punishments, as they incurred enormous costs. Obliteration, however, possessed a distinct advantage: once handed down, the convict was severed from the outside world. Not even relatives had the right to view the remains. In other words, one could dispose of the convict's life and body however one saw fit within the bounds of available resources. If you found it too much trouble, you could kill them and add a purification... or skip the purification entirely. If you happened to have the time, you could do whatever you pleased. Gasper was doing Karen a favor here. She understood that, due to Inquisitor Pavaro's death, Karen and Vicolai undoubtedly had personal scores left to settle. As the saying went, one always took good care of one's own people. Wolflen set down his teacup, rose, and walked straight out. The other bishop also stood and followed the Head Bishop. Dolph rose to his feet. He worried for his son, yet he also wanted to leave, hesitating in place. Vicolai was still screaming at the top of his lungs: "Dad, save me! Save me! You have to save me, Dad!" Vicolai had utterly broken down, his desire to survive overriding everything else. Finally, Bishop Dolph took a deep breath, turned around, and walked away. Behind him, Vicolai continued his hoarse, desperate shrieks: "Dad, save me... save me..." Old Coya led men forward, gesturing for his subordinates to lift the cage containing Vicolai. Then he approached Karen. "Captain Karen, shall I detain him first and await your instructions?" Old Coya, who had always carried himself as an equal to Neo and Karen, finally used an honorific with Karen. After this trial, many things had fundamentally changed. "Yes. Keep him under strict guard." "Rest assured. Though the prison is not in our building, the detention cells on our premises are protected by arrays. I will guard him personally; not a single slip-up will occur." "Thank you for your hard work." "Think nothing of it, Captain. It's my duty." Old Coya pursed his lips and sighed with emotion. "It feels wonderful... I never thought I would live to see the Whip of Order have a day like this. Oh, by the way, Captain Karen, there is a matter I'd like to discuss with you." "Go ahead." "My former colleagues who retired around the same time as me... they would probably like to be rehired now to contribute their remaining energy. What do you think...?" "Draw up a list and submit it to the Director. Let him decide." "Understood." Old Coya found it amusing. He had figured out by now that while Neo was nominally the superior and Karen the subordinate, where else had anyone seen a subordinate push all the tedious administrative work onto his boss? Yet Karen had always operated this way, and Old Coya had noticed that the Director harbored neither jealousy nor resentment toward his subordinate. The two of them truly had an excellent relationship. Naturally, Karen could not be bothered to guess what was running through Old Coya's mind. Even if he knew, he wouldn't have cared. His relationship with Neo... to take it to the extreme, even if they were viewed merely as two Light remnants who had infiltrated the regional headquarters of the Whip of Order, they ought to remain tightly united and look out for each other. Old Delon and Uncle Aisen were shutting down the broadcast array. Karen approached Old Delon first and bowed respectfully. Delon said with a warm smile, "Go on about your business. You still have plenty to do. Once this busy stretch is over, come to the house for dinner. Your grandmother misses you dearly." Madame Tangly treated Karen so well she had practically adopted him as her grandson, a development Delon was more than happy to encourage. "Understood, my lord." Karen turned and nodded to Uncle Aisen. Uncle Aisen offered a smile. Though slightly stiff, being able to express his emotions before a crowd was already a massive step forward for him. Stepping down from the dais, Karen made his way to the gallery. It was crowded, but no one stepped forward to greet Karen; such contacts would naturally be reserved for private settings rather than here. Furthermore, the imposing aura Karen had projected on stage made many hesitant to approach him now. After all, Karen had practically pointed at a bishop and berated him moments earlier. Karen raised his arm and gave a wave. The entire squad—aside from Uncle Aisen, who had other duties—rose to their feet and followed their captain out of the courtroom. Outside, Karen spotted Bernie and Neo standing together and walked over. "Minister, Director." "Very well done." A smile appeared on Bernie's face. "Now go and invite Deputy Minister Trisen over to assist with the investigation." "Yes, Minister." Without lingering, Karen nodded to Bernie and Neo, then led his subordinates into the cars and drove out of the headquarters compound. "Won't that deputy minister try to flee?" Ashley asked. "After all, the proceedings in court were broadcast live. He must know the outcome by now." Vic answered, "Wouldn't it be better if he ran? Fleeing is tantamount to a confession, proving the charges outright. If he really flees, we can just come back and wait for the warrant to arrest the bishop." Alfred reminded them, "We only have the authority to invite him in to assist with the investigation." "Same difference." Vic shrugged. "In any case, he won't run." Arriving at the Church Affairs Building, Karen stepped out of the vehicle and took the lead, his subordinates falling in behind him. As they ascended the steps, they crossed paths with two Whip of Order squads exiting the building. Seeing Karen, the two squad captains came forward to salute him. Though all held the rank of captain, Karen's position was one tier higher, akin to the difference between a municipal bureau and a district station. Before they could introduce themselves, Karen pointed at them and commanded: "Fall in." "Yes, sir!" "Yes, sir!" From their expressions, Karen could tell they had watched the broadcast. There was no need to mince words; giving direct orders was enough. They might not have been eager to switch from casual greetings to raiding the Church Affairs Building, but they dared not refuse an order from the Disciplinary Inspection Office at this moment. The former might offend the Regional Administrative Office, but refusing the latter would turn them into prime targets for disciplinary action in the next phase. The big fish had to be caught, and the minnows wouldn't be spared either; both captains understood this reality all too well. And so, when Karen strode into the Church Affairs Building, over thirty people trailed behind him. Compared to his previous arrest of Vicolai here, the spectacle was on an entirely different scale. Deputy Minister Trisen's office was on the twelfth floor. Karen took the elevator up while the other two squads took the stairs. When the elevator doors slid open, the men from the other two squads were already waiting outside. Not long ago, Karen had joked with Neo that once they got things rolling and built up their influence, other Whip of Order squads would have to bring gifts to explain themselves if they ever dared refuse a deployment. Now, the results were far better than Karen had originally anticipated. Karen's subordinates entered the Law Enforcement Department's office area first to secure the perimeter. Numerous law enforcement personnel were inside, yet none moved to obstruct them. No one even stepped forward to question them; their docile cooperation was almost absurd. This surprised Karen slightly, but when he reached the door of the deputy minister's office and saw over a dozen law enforcement personnel stationed there, everything became clear. The personnel at the door were facing inward. They were not preparing to defend him or violently resist, but rather keeping their deputy minister under guard. Within a department, the only person capable of imposing such restrictions on a deputy minister was the minister himself. Alfred stepped forward and presented his credentials: "By the verbal summons to assist with an investigation issued by Presiding Judge Gasper, we hereby invite Deputy Minister Trisen to the Whip of Order headquarters to assist with our inquiry." The priests at the door stepped aside. Muri stepped forward and pushed the door open. The office was spacious and lavishly furnished. Two men were inside: Minister Moki and Deputy Minister Trisen, seated opposite each other on the sofa. "See? Your escort has arrived," Moki said, continuing to pour tea. Trisen swept his gaze over Karen and the others entering, shook his head, and asked, "Are you truly that impatient?" Moki shrugged with a laugh. "All along, the one truly impatient was you. I told you that once I arranged a suitable new post, I wouldn't mind stepping aside for you. But how could your Norton family be so untrustworthy? You were in such a rush to pull me down? "Then I must apologize; your family forced my hand. Of course, you probably don't realize it, which is only natural. I realized long ago that your entire family seems to have a few screws loose." Trisen's expression darkened. Moki continued, "I used to wonder about it, but now I understand. Certain peculiar families are indeed prone to producing members with generally low intelligence. "Since your nephew can turn out to be your brother, why couldn't your father turn out to be your brother as well?" Instead of growing angry, Trisen chuckled and said to Moki, "You really aren't leaving yourself a way out, are you?" "Sigh, it's not that I don't want to leave myself a way out—it's that your family's way out has already been sealed shut." Trisen adjusted his clerical robes and rose to his feet. "I will return. Just you wait. I refuse to believe the region will watch the Norton family get crushed by the Whip of Order without lifting a finger." Moki countered, "So you think I acted against you purely on my own authority?" "What do you mean by that?" "Nothing much. Ponder it yourself at your leisure." Karen stepped forward and said to Trisen, "Trisen Norton, we are asking you to accompany us back to assist with an investigation." Ignoring Karen, Trisen continued glaring at Moki. "Just you wait." Moki picked at his ear and said disdainfully, "Can't you say something original?" Muri and Bart approached with shackles, preparing to bind Trisen. Looking at the restraints, Trisen asked, "I can come with you willingly. Is this really necessary?" Karen shook his head. "We must consider our own personal safety. Please cooperate and put them on." "Go on, resist, Trisen," Moki taunted. "Come on, resist! Blow your top!" Trisen closed his eyes. Muri and Bart clamped the shackles onto him. As each clasp clicked shut, Trisen's aura was suppressed alongside it. This man had traded blows with Neo. Even though Neo had held back that night, the deputy minister's strength was genuinely not to be underestimated. Moki produced a dossier and handed it to Karen. "These are the misconduct records I gathered regarding Trisen Norton's official duties. I can provide all the witnesses and material evidence listed within." Evidently, Law Enforcement Minister Moki was severing all ties with the Norton family. Karen nodded, accepted the dossier, and said, "Thank you for your cooperation and support, Minister." "Naturally. We belong to the same family, after all." Moki opened his arms. "I watched the trial. It was splendid—especially your closing remarks, Captain Karen. I couldn't agree more." Karen opened his arms as well, exchanging a polite embrace with the minister. Moki smiled. "Captain Karen, I imagine we will be seeing a lot of each other from now on." "Do you intend to transfer into the Whip of Order, Minister?" "Captain Karen will find out soon enough." "Very well." Karen gave Muri a look, and Muri and Bart escorted Trisen outside. Trisen offered no resistance, but before being marched out of the office, he said to Moki behind him: "You have no idea who stands above my Norton family." Then, Trisen turned to Karen walking beside him: "And you have no idea who stands above my family either." Karen replied, "You uncle and nephew really are cut from the same cloth. When your nephew met me, he said almost the exact same thing. "Oh, my apologies, a slip of the tongue—the two of you brothers." Trisen sneered. "Just wait and see." Karen smiled gently. "Do you know what? Being threatened like this is the one thing I fear least, because I am a devout believer in Order." *Because my grandfather is merely asleep, not dead.* By all rights, Karen ought to be the one using such lines regularly. Yet he never seemed to threaten anyone with it, whereas others frequently threatened him with their backers. *Fine, whatever makes you happy.* The Deputy Minister of Law Enforcement was marched out of the Church Affairs Building by the Whip of Order. Though all the passing priests watched, none dared speak, let alone crowd around. Leon stood at his office door, looking at Karen and his party's retreating backs, letting out a soft sigh. Seeing this, his deputy chimed in sympathetically, "Ah, from this moment on, the landscape of our region is about to change." Leon asked, "You sound somewhat melancholy." "Chief, aren't you melancholy?" In the deputy's eyes, as the grandson of the Head Bishop, Leon was bound to feel somewhat pessimistic and helpless in the face of such a shift. "I'm not melancholy at all. In fact, I actually feel like laughing, because tomorrow I'm completing my transfer into the Whip of Order." *** Trisen's "invitation" went extraordinarily smoothly—so smoothly that Karen sensed it was not merely the influence of the trial at play; other developments must have unfolded behind the scenes. After escorting Trisen back and seeing him settled into a detention cell reinforced with defensive arrays, Karen let out a sigh of relief. The others could take a brief rest now, but he could not, for he had promised to personally cook a meal to reward his subordinates for their hard work over this period. Making hot oil noodles was relatively simple and did not involve overly complicated steps, but starting from scratch with flour to prepare everything took considerable effort. The headquarters building had a cafeteria, but it was currently an empty shell. To cook his own meal, he had to set up a makeshift kitchen. Originally, Karen had intended to set it up in his own office, but recalling how much care Neo had poured into decorating it, he couldn't bear to ruin it. So he set up the makeshift kitchen in Neo's office instead. *Thump! Thump! Thump!* Kneading the dough on Neo's desk, Karen found the mass obedient beneath his hands. The bodily enhancement gained from absorbing the God's bone manifested in countless ways. Right now, for instance, if not for the lack of time to simmer a broth, Karen felt he could easily take on the challenge of hand-pulled noodles for the entire squad. Ventura, Ashley, and Blanche crouched on the floor prepping the ingredients. An eager Richard, worried that Philomena might feel lonely with nothing to do, dragged her over to peel garlic with him. This was likely the first time Philomena found Richard's "company" thoroughly irritating. Once everything was prepared, Karen arrived at his favorite step: pouring the hot oil. He had always believed that the sizzling sound of hot oil splashing over aromatics was among the most delightful notes in the world. Bowl after bowl of noodles was assembled, and everyone took their share. People from neighboring departments came over to cadge a meal, and none were turned away; there was plenty to go around. Neo arrived, picking up two bowls first. He said to Karen, "Come outside. I need to talk to you about something." Karen untied the makeshift apron Ashley had fashioned for him, wiped his hands with a napkin, and prepared to step outside with Neo. But Neo pointed out, "You cooked all this and aren't eating?" Karen looked at the two bowls Neo was holding. Neo immediately said, "I'm having two bowls." Karen nodded, grabbed a bowl of his own, and followed Neo upstairs to the rooftop. "Director, it's windy up here." "Come on, just squat down here." Neo walked behind the water tank into a sheltered corner and squatted down. One had to admit, the Director was truly the Director: without anyone teaching him, he had intuitively discovered the most authentic posture for eating hot oil noodles. Karen could only hold his bowl and squat down beside Neo against the wall. Neo opened his hand, looked at the raw garlic cloves, and asked, "You don't flash-fry these in oil? Eat them raw?" "Yes." Neo took a bite of raw garlic, then shoveled a mouthful of noodles, chewing as he said, "I'll admit, they go surprisingly well together." "Yes." "Why aren't you eating garlic?" "Don't want the smell." "Heh." Neo chuckled. "I remember plenty of novels and movies claiming that bloodthirsty aberrant demons are terrified of this stuff." "Silver too." "Oh, feel free to stab me with silver anytime. I can pull it out and sell it. High-grade mithril is best; it fetches good coupons." "Director." "Hmm?" "Just say what's on your mind. We hardly need a preamble to talk." "Mainly, I feel a bit embarrassed. When Bernie told me, he was very embarrassed too, and now that it's my turn, I feel the same way. After all, you poured so much effort into this trial and achieved such a massive success, but..." "Has headquarters already reached an agreement with the Regional Administrative Office?" Neo froze. "You already know?" "I guessed." "Yeah. Before the trial, the Regional Chief and the Head Bishop reached an agreement. The Whip of Order and the Regional Administrative Office will form a joint law enforcement division, meaning both sides will share current authority." "I see." "Aren't you angry?" Neo asked. Karen replied, "I have no right to be angry." "It's best if you can see past it. I was just worried you'd be upset." "I'm not that fragile. Besides, the agreement itself isn't wrong, though the Regional Chief must be regretting it bitterly right now." Before today's trial, securing such an agreement would have been considered a monumental breakthrough. Though the Whip of Order possessed full authority over internal disciplinary enforcement on paper, that power had been monopolized by the regional Law Enforcement Department in recent years. Thus, the Whip of Order stood to gain enormously. Furthermore, once this model was established in the Yorktown Region, it could be replicated across other regions, potentially driving the restoration of the Whip of Order's power structure across the entire Church of Order. Regional Chief Harry's push for this showed remarkable foresight and an eye for the bigger picture. On the Administrative Office's side, stepping back to de-escalate the conflict was equally understandable. However, events had unfolded far beyond expectations. Because the trial had gone so smoothly and the groundwork had been laid so brilliantly, an agreement meant to guarantee their baseline before rolling the dice now felt like a bad deal. Regional Chief Harry was probably kicking himself. No wonder Bishop Bourne had conceded so completely in the end and spoken those words; he had likely known about the agreement all along. But the Norton family had probably been kept in the dark. In essence, the Norton family was the sacrificial lamb offered up by the region. No—originally, Vicolai was meant to be the sacrifice, but now the sacrifice had expanded to include the entire Norton clan. Today's arrest had gone so smoothly partly because the regional side felt they had gotten the better end of the deal and were happy to do a favor in return. Besides, they had grown thoroughly sick of the Norton family anyway. Law Enforcement Minister Moki's actions today had undoubtedly been sanctioned directly by the Regional Administrative Office. When both the Whip of Order and the Regional Administrative Office wanted the Norton family destroyed, Moki had zero qualms about jumping out to burn bridges and pick a side. Such was the cold, ruthless nature of political bargaining. Yet Karen was in no position to mock the Norton family; he, too, had been kept in the dark. It was the pot calling the kettle black. Neo finished his first bowl of noodles quickly. Pausing slightly before picking up the second, he said, "We still have to climb higher. As long as you're at the bottom, you'll always feel suffocated." "Yes, I agree." "Also, don't blame the Regional Chief. My guess is it wasn't solely his call; it likely came from higher up." "I don't blame him. Replicating our region's method of seizing power in other regions is virtually impossible. Local interests must yield to the greater whole; I understand." "Still, the framework is set, but who ultimately holds the reins depends on our own efforts, doesn't it?" Neo smiled. "I refuse to believe that after we completely dismantle the Norton family, our authority in this joint division will be suppressed by the regional faction." "I told Leon to report tomorrow." Neo's hand holding the garlic paused, then he tossed the whole clove into his mouth with a grin. "A brilliant move. Giving him that last billet will make our path much smoother going forward. "Head Bishop Wolflen has no chance of advancing any further. What remains for him is paving the way for his junior, and we can borrow that road to our advantage." "Yes." "Keep it up. Everything will fall into place. Once the immediate business is settled, we'll take a proper vacation." Karen shook his head. "Once the immediate business is settled, I intend to hold a proper funeral for Inquisitor Pavaro." "Yes, that's appropriate—a lingering loose end that deserves tying up. Oh, by the way, should I design my own funeral in advance? I'd hate to be caught unprepared when the time comes." Karen ate his noodles in silence. Neo nudged Karen with his elbow and asked, "Why aren't you warning me that talking like that brings bad luck?" "There is a creature that can live for a thousand years." "I'm guessing that creature isn't meant as a compliment." "Don't worry, Director. Whenever I was tired from reading in the study, I used to relax by drafting funeral arrangements. I've already prepared three complete plans for yours. To be honest, I'm quite looking forward to seeing how they turn out in practice." "Damn you!" *** The detention cells inside the headquarters building were in poor condition; after all, the place had sat vacant for far too long. Carrying a bowl of noodles down the stairs, Karen felt as though he were stepping into a long-neglected boudoir. The space was relatively small, suitable only for temporary holding. A proper prison for the Whip of Order would need to be constructed anew; the application had already been submitted, and an answer should arrive soon. Yet passing the empty cells, Karen still felt an itch to fill every single one, as if leaving them empty were a tragic waste. He shook his head. It seemed he was rather suited for this line of work. Old Coya was personally standing guard. When Karen arrived, he led the way while explaining the layout of the containment arrays. Trisen's cell was on the ground floor; his brother's was in the basement. Due to the array's interference, they could not sense or inspect each other. The space offered absolute privacy. "I'm going to see Vicolai," Karen said. "Very well, Captain Karen. Here is the key. Call me when you're finished, and I'll handle the cleanup for you." "Understood." Old Coya called everyone up from the basement level. Once Karen descended, he locked the iron door and personally stood guard at the entrance. Karen walked up to Vicolai's cell, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. There was no need for excessive caution before Vicolai; being overly cautious would only invite Richard's mockery. Vicolai sat in the corner, his hair disheveled and his face pale. The day's events had delivered a crushing blow, stripping away every ounce of his former arrogance; on top of that, he had suffered a strike from a divine artifact, an ordeal that inevitably demanded a heavy toll. Yet when Vicolai saw Karen, his unfocused eyes snapped back to life, and he shrieked: "You framed me! You framed me! I didn't kill Pavaro! I didn't even have time to kill Pavaro, and you dared to frame me!" "Yes, that's right. I framed you." Vicolai froze, then surged with fury, attempting to lunge at Karen. Karen remained motionless, merely watching him with cold eyes. Half a meter away from Karen, Vicolai skidded to a halt. He knew he was no match for Karen, especially while bound in heavy shackles. Karen offered the bowl of noodles to Vicolai. "Eat." Vicolai was indeed starving. After being thrown in here, he had drifted in a daze for hours; his body desperately needed nourishment—though a believer to feed upon would have been even better. Without hesitation, he snatched the bowl, seized the fork, and shoveled noodles into his mouth, gulping them down greedily. Between mouthfuls, he muttered, "What are you trying to get me to say? Heh, the great secrets of our Norton family... care to guess whether I'll tell you?" "You misunderstand." Karen shook his head. "Feeding you isn't meant to touch your heart. It's so that when I deal with you shortly, you'll have the strength to struggle a bit longer and scream a bit louder, allowing me to enjoy myself a little more." Vicolai's fork froze mid-air. He looked up at Karen, tears spilling from his eyes, practically weeping as he said, "You can't do this! You can't violate the doctrines of Order! You can't frame me! I didn't kill Pavaro, I didn't!" "I told you, I know." Karen reached into his coat and produced an envelope containing slightly over ten thousand Order coupons Alfred had prepared for him, the extra sum being his recent stipend increase. "These are the coupons you gave Pavaro back then. I'm returning them to you." Karen set the envelope on the ground, only to pick it right back up. "Except your personal assets have been confiscated, so these are no longer your coupons. I'm confiscating them." Vicolai could not comprehend Karen's bizarre actions, yet he could feel the crushing dread lurking behind them. "To be frank, I don't feel particularly invested in what you did in that den beneath the cinema. Had that been your only crime, I would have arrested you, tried you, but I wouldn't have come down here personally. "However, I remember vividly what you said to me in the interrogation room just a few days ago. "You said that if not for my presence, you would have subjected Mrs. Lake, Dora, and Doreen to every manner of vengeance and degradation. You called them a pack of bitches. "My respect for Mr. Pavaro has always been buried deep in my heart. "So, my apologies. Though torturing you won't bring me much of an achievement, I must ensure you die a wretched death." Karen's words were like a demon's intimate whisper, sending shudders through Vicolai's body. Clutching his head, he shook it frantically. "Pavaro wasn't as great as you think! He wasn't as noble as you believe! If he were truly clean, he shouldn't have taken my coupons, and he shouldn't have agreed to cover for me! "You misjudged him! Truly, you misjudged him! He was a man who feared, who worried, who trimmed his sails to the wind, who acted in self-interest—truly!" "Alas, he wasn't. I am." "No, he was!" "How about I tell you a ghost story first?" "Huh?" Karen gently touched the silver ring on his finger. With a gentle, smiling voice, he whispered: "Raise your head now and look. Who am I?"