Look, He's Here!

"Mr. Dalis, how are you feeling?" "Very well. So well that I nearly deluded myself into believing nothing was wrong with me, almost kindling hope for a new life, almost planning to strive hard to restore the Nadon family's glory." "Very good." "By the way, Captain Karen, how is the weather today?" "It's raining. Quite heavily." "I'm starting to dislike rainy days. It reminds me of what I told you during our conversation—that I would be washed by the rain into some sewer pipe on some street in Yorktown." "Look at it from another angle: perhaps a rainy day in Yorktown dislikes your joining it even more." "True enough. I suppose I'm the one getting the better end of the deal." "Learn to accept it, Mr. Dalis. This is destiny's judgment upon you, as well as your most comfortable form of self-exile." "Thank you, Captain Karen. Thank you for walking me out and for speaking with me like this." Dalis looked at Karen, a smile touching his face. "It's a pity I won't have the chance to sit face-to-face with you, drinking tea while basking in the afternoon sun. My intuition tells me chatting with you would be a very pleasant experience." "You handle your affairs, and I will finish mine. Once everything is done..." "May I come find you to drink tea and bask in the sun during the final stretch of my life?" "Depends on whether I'm free, and whether the sun is free." Dalis pulled the hood of his clerical robe over his head and smiled. "Well then, time for me to go welcome my sunshine." With that, he stepped out of the headquarters building and into the pouring rain. The rain beat relentlessly against his figure. Wherever he walked, he seemed to leave behind pools of sludge. Karen reached out his hand, caught a bit of rain from outside, shook it off, turned, and walked up the stairs. When he entered his office, Alfred and Richard were seated inside. "Young Master, I still maintain my recommendation..." "Alfred, do you know why Neo told me that whoever is inside Philomena's body doesn't really matter?" "This subordinate..." "You can look into it. To this day, Madame Felscher still holds entitlement to the bereavement allowances of several family members. Although she has never once gone to claim them, she remains a person of the Church—a person of the Church of Order." "Yes, this subordinate understands." "Not many people can be involved in this matter, because afterward, people will come to investigate." "Yes, Young Master. This subordinate was thoughtless." "No, you were merely too worried about my safety and overlooked the majesty of the Church. You did nothing wrong—at least within your own understanding, you were not mistaken." "You are right, Young Master." "Is she taking a bath?" Karen asked Richard. Richard nodded. "She said it was your instruction." "Yes, indeed. It's just a shame it's a rainy day. Originally, I wanted Fannie and Peige to come over and help dress her up, but now it seems there's no need." "Karen, stay safe." "I'm fine." Karen shook his head. "Actually, we're not going there to fight." Yet it was far more perilous than a fight. "Can I... come along? I mean, I could drive for you. Even if I just stay in the car watching, waiting for you two to come out." "Are you showing concern for me?" "What else?" "No need. I can drive. You can make a trip home later." "A trip home?" "Tell your grandmother what we are going to do today." "All... all right." "But you must wait three hours after we leave before going home. Don't call, and don't use paper crows. Understood?" "I understand. I'll even ask my grandmother for a cup of tea, since I'll be a messenger bearing news of death." "Good. You still remember Wien's funeral customs." "I imagine my grandmother might feel a bit sentimental." *No, she might actually be quite pleased.* Judging from his grandmother's attitude toward Philomena in the cafeteria dining room yesterday, she genuinely despised that brand of bean paste so much that she hated the entire jar. As for feeling sentimental or lamenting that yet another person from her era was gone... Karen doubted his grandmother was so melodramatic. She liked cooking, not writing poetry. Philomena emerged from the inner room. Having bathed and changed into fresh clothes, she sat quietly in a chair. "Go dry your hair," Karen said. Philomena replied, "It's raining outside." "Drying your hair before going out is the most basic respect for a rainy day." Philomena let out a sigh. Evidently, she found it uncomfortable, yet she did not dare show it before Karen. Watching her retreat into the inner room, a slight smile crept onto Karen's lips. Sometimes, forcing an introverted girl to do things she deemed foolish was its own form of amusement. Then Karen turned his gaze toward Richard. However, the men of the Guman family likely never had the chance to enjoy such amusement—one only had to look at Old Master Delon's demeanor before his wife to see that. Well, if his uncle weren't "mentally ill," he would probably receive much the same treatment. "Richard, go keep watch by the main entrance." "Understood." Once Richard stepped out, Karen sat down behind his desk. Alfred rose and poured a glass of ice water for his young master. "Young Master, I shall return to the funeral parlor first to await your return home." "For a late-night snack, I want wonton noodles." "Yes, Young Master." Having dried her hair, Philomena walked back out. Only she and Karen remained in the office. "I can sense that Alfred's attitude toward you is not that of a master and servant." "You're only sensing it now?" "Yes." "Then your senses truly are slow." "Details in dreams are naturally easy to overlook." "Have you prepared yourself mentally? After dreaming for so many years, it's time to wake up." "I remember you telling me, Captain, that if a dream is truly comfortable, there's no need to cling to reality." "Offering healthy, positive life advice often invites resentment. "Perhaps when I told you that, our relationship wasn't what it is now. For people who have nothing to do with me, if I can persuade them to sit, I won't persuade them to stand; if I can persuade them to lie down, I won't persuade them to sit. "Do you know the definition of a dream? It is fleeting, transient beauty. Philomena, you have dreamed for so long already—long enough to make many people envious." Philomena looked thoughtful. After a long pause, she nodded. "You are right." Time ticked by, minute by minute. During that time, Karen lit three cigarettes. In truth, Alfred had prepared soul-healing potions for him, but their effect simply wasn't as good as these cigarettes from the Church of Thunder. What he needed was numbness, not useless healing. He couldn't go to the Church hospital for an examination either; this soul wound would be rather difficult to explain. Finally, a knock came at the door. "Come in." Richard pushed the door open. Karen asked, "It seems our old lady has come to take her granddaughter home?" "Uh... no. The one who came is Bishop Dauphinant." ... Karen and Philomena walked downstairs together. Ventura and Muri were standing near the landing. "Captain." "Captain." "Mm." Karen nodded to them and continued downward. Philomena lingered her gaze on Ventura and Muri for a moment before catching up with Karen's footsteps. Once the two had walked down, Ventura let out a long breath and said, "The Captain feels different today compared to before." "How did he feel before?" "Like a big brother—my brother." Ventura pursed his lips. "A brother who helped me and saved me." "Then he truly is different today. People change." "Change?" Ventura shook his head. "I think it's probably because after today, it won't be long before Mr. Alfred brings Philomena to the performance hall at Allen Manor." Muri was slightly surprised and asked with puzzlement, "Did Mr. Alfred tell you that?" "No." Ventura looked at Muri and smiled. "It's because when the Captain walked down just now, he gave me the same feeling I get when looking at the portrait in our living room. Today, the Captain isn't going out on a mission, nor is he merely protecting a subordinate. He is... going to safeguard his believer." "I'm surprised to hear you say something like that." Muri placed a hand on Ventura's head and ruffled his hair. "You should read Mr. Alfred's notes more often, Brother Muri." "I am reading them." "You have to read them devotedly. Otherwise, to use the phrase Mr. Alfred always repeats..." Ventura made a face at Muri, "...there won't even be room for you in the cobwebbed corner of the mural!" ... A VIP vehicle was parked outside the headquarters building. Through the windows, an elderly man in a bishop's clerical robe could be seen sitting in the back seat—Bishop Dauphinant. He ranked fairly low among the bishops of the York City Region, but he was still a bishop. An aide-de-camp stood by the doorway. Karen opened his umbrella, walked down the steps of the building, paused, and looked back at Philomena. Philomena came down, taking shelter under Karen's umbrella. Curious, she even tilted her head up to look at the underside of the canopy. The aide spoke. "At Madame Felscher's request, His Grace has come in person to escort Miss Philomena home." The Felscher family was ruined, but they had once been the family of the Head Bishop of the York City Region; some embers of their former influence still lingered. Bishop Dauphinant had once served as an aide to Philomena's great-grandfather. Karen spoke. "Please relay to His Grace that Philomena is a member of my squad. I will escort her home personally." The aide looked at Karen, his tone polite yet carrying an air of arrogance. "Captain Karen, this is His Grace's intention." "Do you know who I am?" "How could I not know you?" The aide retained his prior expression. "Good. What I mean is, I will escort her home myself. There is no need to trouble His Grace." "Captain Karen, please respect His Grace's orders." The aide's voice rose slightly. "This is a private matter of the Felscher family. It is not appropriate for outsiders to interfere." "I have no intention of interfering. I am merely escorting my subordinate home. Furthermore, please inform your master that I am a mad dog. Just yesterday, I watched Bishop Dolph Nadon commit suicide right in front of me." The aide choked on his words, his expression shifting into anger. "Is Captain Karen threatening His Grace?" Karen smiled. "You can raise your voice a bit louder, then shout an announcement on my behalf: the next target of the Whip of Order's investigation will be the Dauphinant bishop family—if, that is, you can make that decision for your master." "You..." The aide's momentum collapsed instantly. He spun around and ran toward the VIP car. A moment later, the VIP car drove away, and the aide jogged back. "His Grace says we shall trouble Captain Karen, then." Karen nodded. He reached out and flipped back the hood of the raincoat covering the aide's head, letting the rain beat down upon his hair and face. "Remember, here, you have no right to raise your voice." "Yes, I will remember." Karen led Philomena to his second-hand Ponce. Neo had been talking about modifying this car, but he still hadn't gotten around to it. Philomena sat in the passenger seat. Watching the aide walk off in the rain, she asked in wonder, "So we're already allowed to be this unyielding?" "We couldn't before. After Dolph died, we could act like this a little." Karen started the car, continuing, "Mainly, your family doesn't have much favor left. That bishop was merely going through the motions to give a shred of face, so there was no need to lock horns with mad dogs like us. "A bishop isn't someone we can investigate just because we say so—not without approval from above." Philomena nodded. "So that's how it is." The second-hand black Ponce remained dependable. Leaving the city for the outskirts, it rolled along the muddy road and finally came to a stop before an empty plot of land. They had arrived at the Felscher residence, though nothing could be seen by the naked eye. "We're here. Go on in first. I'll have a cigarette before heading up." "Captain, I remember you saying that my house has no telephone line, making it troublesome to contact me, and that folding paper crows requires making several extra." "If you want, you can renovate the house. I'll have our director contact the construction crew that worked on my office." "Captain, do you think burning it down would be better?" "Burning it down is only for outsiders to see. Whether it still lingers in your heart is something only you know." Philomena opened the car door. Karen reminded her, "Take your things." Philomena picked up the umbrella and opened it. Karen shook his head. "I meant the blade." Philomena picked up the Nightmare Blade, looked at Karen, and said, "Captain, you are different today compared to before." "You're only sensing it now?" "Yes. Just as you said, my reactions are very slow." "Go on." "Yes, Captain." Philomena turned. Holding the umbrella in her left hand and gripping the blade in her right, she walked toward her home. As she drew close, a dilapidated villa materialized in the empty space before her. Sitting in the car, Karen gently rubbed his face and murmured to himself with a sigh: "Can't embarrass Grandfather today. The pressure really is enormous." Tilting the rearview mirror toward his face, Karen looked at his reflection and scoffed self-deprecatingly: "Grandfather's image is quite a heavy burden to carry. It's made my temper flare up considerably today." ... Philomena opened the front door, the weathered wooden frame emitting an ear-piercing, drawn-out scrape. Inside, the living room was lively, filled with many people. Some were reading newspapers, some drinking coffee, some chatting, some knitting sweaters... All familiar faces—faces familiar from memorial portraits. "Look, everyone, look! Who has returned? Oh, it's our little darling, Philomena, hehe." Having uncharacteristically dressed in formal attire, Madame Felscher wore a smile as she beckoned the people in the living room to welcome the girl returning with a blade in hand. "Come, greet everyone. This is your great-grandfather, this is your grandfather, this is your eldest uncle, this is your second uncle, this is..." Madame Felscher introduced them one by one with tireless patience. The puppet golems put on corresponding expressions in response. Once, to help her grandmother gather materials for puppets, Philomena had personally assisted another puppeteer in blackmailing the Lemar Pottery Studio. That was also her second encounter with Karen after the final selection. Now, the purpose behind her grandmother's choice of puppetry was laid bare: her grandmother had been preparing for today's family banquet for a very long time. The Captain was right. It was time to wake from the dream. Yet that did not prevent this final immersion. Philomena began greeting the figures present. All of them were members of the Felscher family, her elders. The once-flourishing Felscher family, which had held the hereditary seat of Head Bishop in the York City Region, had fallen into utter ruin overnight. "Come, son. Today you are permitted to eat at the table." Philomena noticed that even her father—who usually could only crouch by the table legs eating scraps dropped from above—had been groomed today, dressed in new clothes, his hair neatly combed. Yet as he sat by the dining table, his hands remained propped before his chest. He sniffled occasionally, his tongue lolling out, drool dripping down. Madame Felscher's gaze fell at that moment upon Philomena's hand—upon the blade she held. "This blade looks rather familiar." "Do you recognize it, Grandmother?" "Let me see." Madame Felscher leaned in closer. "The Nightmare Blade... hehehe. How did her weapon end up in your hands?" "Borrowed." "Ah, wonderful. Seeing it is like seeing an old acquaintance, and seeing an old acquaintance makes me involuntarily recall the past. Oh, it was also on a rainy afternoon like this, when a family gathering was taking place at home. "The moment I pushed open the window, "I saw to my pleasant surprise, "that he had actually come to find me at home of his own accord. "Excitedly, I called your grandfather over and said: 'Look! The man I truly love to death, he has come to find me! He came for me!'" As Madame Felscher spoke, she pushed open the window, as though deliberately trying to display to Philomena the sheer ecstasy she had felt on that day when that man arrived at her home. The window swung open. Through the curtain of rain, she saw the silhouette of a man walking toward the house. Blurred somewhat by the downpour, his bearing and presence seemed in that instant to overlap entirely with the scene preserved in her memory. Having stepped into the courtyard, Karen heard the window open. He halted his steps and looked up. He saw an old woman eagerly pointing at him. The patter of the rain drowned out other sounds, but the old woman's expression was plainly visible: weeping and laughing all at once. Clutching her chest, Madame Felscher choked out: "Look, he's here."