When Karen woke, he found himself sitting with his back against the cell wall. His neck was slightly stiff, and he subconsciously reached back to give it a gentle rub.
He had clearly fallen asleep, but the sleep quality had been terrible. It felt as though he had lived through an endlessly long dream, one where an irritating insect kept buzzing back and forth right beneath his eyelids, forcing him to blink constantly to drive it away.
"What an exhausting sleep..."
For once, Karen did not wake with that replenished sense of renewed energy. Owing to habits from his past life, his concept of sleep had always been more like recharging his battery.
Before him, Vicolai lay quietly, eyes wide open, completely motionless.
Karen rose to his feet. He had no idea how long he had slept; in this detention cell, neither sun nor moon could be seen.
He walked over, lifted a foot, and nudged Vicolai lightly where he lay on the floor.
As if spun from cotton candy, Vicolai's body instantly lost its human shape, collapsing into a puddle of clean, gray dust.
Clean enough... that one could pack it into an exquisite box and give it as a Valentine's Day gift.
He was dead—thoroughly, indisputably dead.
Although Karen was missing a slight chunk of the middle part, judging from the end result, the process of dying could hardly have been easy or swift for him.
Leaving the cell, Karen walked up to the level above. As he passed the cell holding Trisen, a voice drifted out from within. Trisen's face was pressed against the bars, staring right at him.
"What did you talk about with Vicolai?"
Karen shook his head. He didn't feel like talking right now. If possible, he wanted to take a shower first.
"You can talk to me," Trisen said. "Vicolai is just a spoiled child. Talk with me. I can represent the Naton family and the entity behind us to reach an agreement with you. My terms aren't high."
A night of calm reflection had helped Trisen figure out a few things. If a man's brain when foolish was like an overheating engine, his had at least cooled down a bit.
"Vicolai is dead."
Hearing this answer, Trisen froze for a moment, but he immediately pressed on: "Then can we let the matter stop right here? The Naton family can accept some punishment and concessions. I can even accept a transfer."
Karen shook his head. "The trigger has already been pulled. It can't be stopped."
Originally, the Naton family could still have stood in the same trench as the Regional Administrative Office for defense. Now, both sides wanted to use the Naton family as fireworks to set off at their banquet of cooperation.
Seeing this, Trisen lost his temper and began hurling abuse and curses at Karen.
This uncle and nephew—no, these brothers—truly were cut from the same cloth.
At times, one couldn't help but wonder how such foolish, arrogant people could exist in this world. But soon one would realize that it was probably because, in the environment where they grew up, there had never been anything to fear or any rules they had to follow.
Like pampered youths who had never received a "lesson" from society—it had nothing to do with age.
Amid Trisen's curses, Karen walked to the heavy iron gate. He pushed, but it didn't budge. Then the rustling of someone getting up came from the other side. Old Coya swung the gate open, rubbed his eyes, and instantly pasted on a smile.
"Captain Karen, you're finished?"
A whole night! He had tortured the obliteration convict for an entire night!
"Yes. Thank you for your trouble."
"Not at all, just doing my duty, doing my duty! Is that person... still around?"
"Go clean it up."
"Understood. Don't worry, I'll take care of all the post-execution paperwork for you."
"All right, thank you."
"No, no, no, you're far too polite!"
Karen walked out of the detention facility.
Old Coya kicked several of his subordinates awake and ordered them down with him. When they entered Vicolai's cell and saw that puddle of clean, soft ash on the floor, everyone froze for a good while.
"He was really tortured into ashes..."
Having worked in this line for so many years, even if he hadn't handled many prestigious assignments, his experience was undeniable. Yet this was the first time Old Coya had ever witnessed such an extreme aftermath to an execution.
"Captain Karen looks so gentle and pleasant, who would have thought..."
"Thought what, you idiot! Hurry up and get the broom and dustpan!"
"Yes, Chief!"
Trisen saw Old Coya and the others coming up carrying the broom and dustpan.
He spoke up: "Regardless of what happened, you should let me bid farewell to my nephew's remains. Let me look at him one last time."
"Are you sure you want to see?" Old Coya asked.
"This has nothing to do with you, and it won't implicate you in the future," Trisen said.
"Oh, all right. You asked for it. Hey, show it to him."
A few men lifted the dustpan and held it out in front of Trisen.
A bewildered expression crossed Trisen's face, and he demanded loudly, "What is the meaning of this?!"
Old Coya quickly hushed him:
"Shh! Keep your voice down! Don't blow your brother away!"
Trisen: "..."
***
On the terrace by the stairwell, Richard was recounting his grand battle with Vicolai to Philomena for the fortieth time.
In truth, he didn't even want to tell the story anymore and wished he could change the subject. But while he had stepped away to use the bathroom earlier, a newly recruited dining hall staff member had come over to ask Philomena what kind of flavors everyone usually preferred.
Because everyone else in the squad was busy with work, the staff member had finally found someone who didn't look busy and seemed to be resting.
With a cold face, Philomena had rattled off dish after dish.
By the time the dining staff left and Richard returned, Philomena stood up and said something that left him between laughter and tears:
"Tell me more details about your fight with Vicolai. I'll give you some pointers."
What else could he do? Richard had no choice but to oblige.
The two of them moved to the terrace, pretending to be earnestly discussing business, while he continued recounting his fierce struggle against "a pile of ash."
Just then, Karen came up from downstairs.
"Captain."
"Captain."
"Mm."
Karen nodded to them and continued toward his office.
Once Karen had walked away, Philomena spoke: "I heard the captain went to carry out the execution last night."
"Yeah, that's right. An obliteration execution. Any method is fair game, so long as the deceased can never be revived."
"Judging by his look, the captain seems exhausted."
"Yeah, I rarely see Karen this worn out. Normally he always gives off a very normal vibe—just looking completely put together in every way."
"So, revenge didn't bring the captain joy, only exhaustion?"
"Mm. True revenge is probably like that," Richard said.
"Then when I kill my grandmother, will I be like that too?"
"Of course. You'll feel empty and helpless, perhaps even... lost. As if your life has suddenly entered a state of weightlessness."
"Will I?"
"You will."
"Then do you think I should still kill her?"
Richard shrugged. Naturally, he understood that this wasn't a question of whether to kill or not, nor was Philomena asking for his opinion; it was an inevitable outcome.
Even so, Richard offered comfort: "When we untie a knot in a rope, it isn't to gain something from it, but so that life can go on."
"Go on."
"Your grandmother is the period at the end of the previous chapter of your life. You have to put that period down sooner or later. Only after that can you start a new paragraph on a fresh line and begin writing your own story, right?"
"But I don't know what to write."
"That's nothing unusual. Most people are like that, and so am I. Do you think that by staying here with Karen, I'm writing my own story? I'm just copying. Karen's model essay is right there, so I just copy it, while trying my best to see where I can slip in a few things of my own so it doesn't look too obvious.
"No one is born knowing how to write an essay. Everyone starts by watching others and imitating them, taking one step at a time before they can write something of their own.
"It's just like learning to ride a bicycle. In the beginning, someone has to hold onto you from behind so you can get going."
"A bicycle. I've never ridden one."
"Want to learn?"
"I don't know."
"If you want to learn, I'll teach you." Richard waved a hand casually. "I can teach you how to drive too, by the way. Trust me, I'm a great driver."
***
Not long after Karen returned to his office, Alfred walked in and inquired,
"Young Master, did you not rest well?"
"A small accident happened, but it's not a major issue." Karen recounted the previous night's experience to Alfred, then asked, "Is there anything else going on right now?"
"Mainly, we are investigating the behind-the-scenes manipulation of credit in the Qihe case, and the evidence provided by Minister Moki is currently being cross-checked. Trisen is dirty—very dirty, in fact. It involves harboring crimes in exchange for political favors."
Massaging the space between his brows, Karen remarked, "That's tricky to deal with."
"Setting aside the internal affairs of our church, there are also dealings with foreign religions—such as apprehending and secretly releasing wanted fugitives from foreign faiths, and colluding with other factions."
"We can make that our main angle; attack along that line. What's Neo's take?"
"Fanny shares that view and has already stamped the investigation paperwork. As for the Director... Young Master, while you were carrying out the execution in the detention facility last night, the Director disappeared for the entire night as well. Fortunately, his official seal and materials were with Fanny, so our investigation process wasn't disrupted."
Neither he nor Neo was present, yet the investigative work proceeded smoothly and efficiently. It truly proved that whoever was missing was the embarrassing one.
"If you want to gather information regarding foreign religions, go to Xinyali."
"I've already contacted her, Young Master."
"What about that diplomatic priest from the Naton family?"
"We've found grounds to place him on temporary leave to return and assist in the investigation. We're actively liaising with his superior."
"Make sure he returns soon. He's one of the central figures now."
"Understood, Young Master."
"All right, I'll rest for a while."
"Then I will get back to work, Young Master."
"Thank you for your hard work, Alfred."
"It brings me rare fulfillment, Young Master."
After Alfred left, Karen was in no hurry to shower in the washroom. Instead, he picked up the telephone and dialed the funeral parlor.
Pike answered: "Hello, Pavaro Funeral Parlor, it's a pleasure to be of service."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"Boss?" Pike was startled, then immediately realized what was wrong with his words. "Sorry, Boss, it's been so long since I handled business calls, I'm rusty, just rusty..."
Although a funeral parlor belonged to the service industry, very few customers were genuinely pleased to receive their services.
"Hand the receiver to the cat."
"The cat? Right away. Miss Purr, I'll go get her to take the call."
Before long, a playful meow drifted through the receiver:
"You're only calling now? If I hadn't already checked with Ashley, I'd still be waiting by the phone! Do you know how worried I was at home for my little Karen's first court appearance?!"
"All right, there's something I need to ask you..."
Karen told Purr about what happened last night and Bernie's treatment. After listening, Purr replied immediately:
"I suspect your minister isn't just an excellent priest, but one... with top-tier talent."
"Explain the concept."
"The concept is, how should I put it... Among the twelve Knights of Order under the God of Order, there was an esteemed knight named Yamera. She was a priest who possessed several divine artifacts. I won't bother trying to describe just how formidable she was; in short, the mythological accounts of quite a few religions today record instances where their own chief deity or subsidiary gods were healed by Yamera of the same faction during the God War."
"Several divine artifacts?"
"One was probably her own, but she must have seized quite a few. After all, the God of Order was always generous to his subordinates. Even though the Church of Order has no subsidiary gods, in terms of treatment and status, that group ranked far above the subsidiary gods of other religions.
"Just think about it: war always brings spoils, and the God of Order was never short on those—to say nothing of the loot dropped when the God of Order went on a slaughtering spree against other deities in the later stages."
"Mm, go on."
"Just like that intact divine artifact, the Scythe of War, the Church of Order surely holds a considerable number of intact divine artifacts. Among them is a priest-aligned artifact comparable to the Scythe of War. It embodies the ultimate priestly esoteric truth of an era, and its name is the Vine of Sighs. Legend has it that it grants true rebirth and salvation to the soul.
"Its method of use is just like the mark on the back of your hand. You need that mark to channel the power of the Scythe of War and empower your summoned Black Prison Castle. High-ranking priests possess a similar mark that lets them draw on the power of the Vine of Sighs.
"Its effect is to heal soul wounds and purge impurities from the soul."
Karen suddenly understood and asked, "Diss sought out that kind of priest in the past, didn't he?"
That was why Purr knew so much about it.
"To be precise, Diss kidnapped one. While the person was attending a high-profile inter-religious priest symposium, Diss went and bundled her back.
"She examined me while she was at it, and she was the one who told me that a symbiosis contract could break through my current predicament.
"However, she was powerless to do anything about your parents' condition."
Karen knew Diss had made countless attempts to save his parents, but all had failed. In the end, to relieve their agony, he had been forced to end their lives with his own hands.
Ventura's survival was also due to the experiments Diss had conducted back then.
"Still, she was quite a decent person. She promised to keep the secret, and she truly kept it."
"And the Church of Order had no other reaction?"
"Oh, the one in charge of search and rescue back then was Rasma. You know how it is—Rasma's been sensible ever since he was a kid."
"Then that must be the reason. I don't think he did it intentionally."
"It probably wasn't intentional. The man offered top-tier treatment to his two most capable subordinates, who knew those two had so many strange things inside them?
"The moment I heard your description, I guessed it was the Vine of Sighs. It unleashes the vitality within your soul, kind of like child education experts crying about liberating a child's natural instincts.
"In fact, if someone is completely innocent and clean, even if they aren't injured, receiving such 'treatment' would bring immense benefits.
"But for you and Neo, it brings trouble."
"I understand."
"Hey, anyway, when on earth are you coming home?"
"Once I wrap up the case at hand. I'm busy right now."
"I don't believe for a second you're the kind of person who handles tedious paperwork—if you were, it would mean Alfred was neglecting his duties! So I don't buy that you're busy. That's just an excuse not to come home!"
"I'll be back once it's settled. This matter is very important."
"Fine, fine. Go focus on your work. I know you've grown tired of this home, meow."
Karen chuckled wryly and hung up the phone. He opened his drawer, folded an origami black crow, and set it flying.
Then Karen rang his desk bell. Ventura opened the door and entered immediately:
"Captain, what are your orders?"
"Go to the evidence room and borrow a magical camera for me."
***
Sanitation depot.
Wearing work overalls, Neo was dumping garbage from a trash bin into a truck.
Just then, Karen's figure appeared beside the truck.
Noticing him, Neo pointed to his own face and asked, "Do you think I've lost my mind? Because I suddenly felt like doing something for this city, so I paid an entire shift of sanitation workers to take time off and personally swept five streets of garbage myself. From last night until now, I've barely stopped working."
Karen shook his head.
"You don't think I'm crazy? The department is swamped with work right now, and here I am, the director, abandoning serious business to sweep garbage on the street. Even I think I'm crazy."
Immediately after, Neo knitted his brows and continued, "So my guess was right—Bernie's treatment affected me?"
Karen nodded and explained the matter of the Vine of Sighs to Neo.
"Fuck!" Neo tossed his shovel aside. "Looks like we can never let the minister heal us again. The healing is effective, sure, but I don't want to run around doing good deeds and sweeping streets every time after treatment! What's worse is that I've been sweeping all night and all morning, and fuck me if I don't still feel like doing more!"
Karen's figure appeared atop the garbage truck.
"Hey, hey, hey, what are you climbing up there for? It's filthy and stinks to high heaven. Back off! If there's nothing urgent at the department, I think I'll be able to wrap up nicely by evening."
Karen grabbed a shovel and prodded forcefully through the trash in the truck. Soon, corpses beneath the garbage were exposed—many bodies, with puncture marks from fangs on their necks.
Clearly, what had been stirred awake within Neo was not only his radiant, virtuous side, but also the nature of a bloodthirsty aberrant demon.
"Hey, why are you so nosy? Caught by you again," Neo said rather helplessly. "These were members of a few local gangs. They usually traffic people, rob, murder, and peddle illicit addictive drugs. They're garbage too, so I cleaned them out while I was at it.
"I'm confident the city is considerably cleaner today than it was yesterday."
Karen nodded in agreement with Neo's claim.
"Wait, that's not right. By all rights, you have far more attachments on your soul than I do. Why did you recover so fast?"
"It triggered my hunger craving. I fought against it all night."
"Well, that's fine too. Like medicine running its course, it burned off fast, and a night's sleep fixed it. By the way, have you figured out how to execute Vicolai?"
"The execution is already done."
"You did it? Fair enough. Once I head back, I'll revive him once and bring out some new tricks to spice things up for you."
"He's already ash."
Neo blinked. "Fuck!"
Soon after, Neo continued shoveling garbage as he asked, "Is the next stage of the investigation going smoothly?"
"I think our team might actually be more efficient when the two of us aren't around."
"That just proves we're competent leaders who built a competent team."
"Yes, exactly."
Karen raised the camera and aimed it at Neo.
*Click!*
A moving image of Neo in overalls shoveling trash was captured, and the photo quickly slid out on its own.
Having been snapped candidly, Neo gave a helpless look. "I take back what I just said. I don't think you've fully recovered yet—otherwise, there's no explaining why you'd bring a magical camera when going out."
Karen replied, "I originally intended to photograph you helping an old lady cross the street and hang it on the department's wall of honor."
"I wanted to as well, but in the dead of night, where am I going to find so many old ladies who need to cross the street?!"
"All right, I'm leaving. You keep sweeping garbage; I won't ruin your fun."
"Don't go yet! This is a rare leadership team-building event for our department—how can you only take a picture of me and not yourself? Here, give me the camera, let's take a photo together."
"No need."
"What do you mean, no need? Come on, give me the camera. We haven't taken a photo together yet, have we?" Neo reached out and snatched the camera from Karen's hand, then slung an arm over Karen's shoulder, raising the camera to point back at the two of them. "Hey, smile a bit. Why are you frowning?"
"You stink."
"Ignore those minor details! Come on, look happy. Adjust your expression. That smile of yours is far too polite—no good. Can you smile a little more broadly?
"Good.
"Just like that.
"Ready?
"One, two, three..."
*Click!*
The photo slid out from the camera, tumbling and fluttering down onto the ground, landing faceup.
Two people,
smiling very happily.
Chapter 522