Xili brought refreshments out to the guests who had come to pay their respects.
Bishop Bern reached out and picked up a spring roll, dipping it first into sweet sauce and then spicy chili sauce, eating both with clear relish.
He picked up a second roll, dipped it in fragrant vinegar, took a bite, and slightly furrowed his brows. Clearly, he was not yet accustomed to the taste.
Karen’s personal palate leaned on the mild side. Though he would occasionally indulge in a rich, heavy, and spicy meal for a change of pace, on regular days his condiment of choice was always a small dish of fragrant vinegar brewed at his own home.
However, Xili knew that most people did not share her young master’s deep fondness for fragrant vinegar, so she had prepared other dipping sauces as well.
Curious, Bishop Bern brought the dish of vinegar to his nose, took a sniff, and smiled. "This is the first time I've ever seen vinegar like this."
"Brewed it myself," Karen explained.
"Oh, I didn't realize you were so well-versed in culinary matters."
"A person always needs a few hobbies."
When it came to food, his maternal grandmother was the one who matched his tastes best. Even though she had spent half her life cooking Wien cuisine for the family, in her eyes, Wien food never rose above the status of "pig feed."
She often said that she felt like a livestock feeder, dishing out scoops of feed into everyone’s plate every day after cooking, and then watching the family root and gobble it down with gusto.
Ever since she drew inspiration for new recipes from Karen, Grandmother had been utterly unstoppable. She constantly asked him for unusual ingredients like tofu and would even summon her maid home so they could experiment together.
Richard had mentioned that in the past, his grandmother liked to sit by the windowsill in the afternoons, sipping tea and knitting sweaters while waiting for the family to return from work. Now, she sat with a set of tiny hammers, little shears, and small spoons, tackling a steamed crab alongside a dish of fragrant vinegar taken from Karen's house, whiling away entire afternoons that way.
Because of that, Karen had always felt that his closeness to Madame Tangli was not merely a matter of blood ties, but because the old woman truly felt like a kindred spirit to him.
Wolflen picked up a spring roll and took a bite, glancing at the filling inside—chives, egg skin, and glass noodles.
He dipped it into the fragrant vinegar, took another bite, and remarked, "Quite good, actually."
Next, he reached out and took a piece of pressed tea tofu, asking, "What is this?"
"A tea cake," Karen replied.
In linguistic terms, it did not refer to a compressed tea brick, but rather a "biscuit" meant to accompany tea.
Wolflen placed a piece into his mouth. Beside him, Bishop Bern took one as well, chewed, and offered his critique: "Doesn't have much flavor."
"That is because you are still young, Bern," Wolflen said with a smile. "When you grow tired one day and set down your burdens to rest, try eating this again with a cup of tea or a light wine. You'll taste something entirely different."
Bishop Bern nodded.
Finally, both of them picked up bowls of tremella soup. Judging by their expressions, this was what satisfied them most.
Wolflen turned to Karen and said, "I hope the guests at my funeral can taste this. Could I ask your maid to..."
Karen cut in, "I will personally oversee and organize your funeral."
Hearing this, Wolflen paused for a moment before asking, "Would that be convenient for you?"
"It would be my honor."
"Thank you."
"You are the family of my subordinate. It is only right."
"Heh." Wolflen gently stroked his chest. "My mind is at ease now. Still, keep the funeral modest. Not many guests will attend anyway—that is my advice."
"Your funeral may not be able to stay modest."
"No, it will. Trust me, when my funeral takes place, not many guests will show up." Wolflen reached for another piece of pressed curd, chewed, and murmured, "In the end, I was never pure enough, was I, Bern?"
Bern nodded. "Compared to me, neither of you is pure enough."
"Yes, I admit it. It takes losing almost your entire family and staring at your own impending end before you can truly make up your mind to do certain things. Over the past few days, I've been repenting before the divine statue. Not for my family’s sake—after all, I will be joining them soon anyway—but primarily because I always believed I was abiding by the tenets of faith, only to realize now that I have strayed from them all along."
Bishop Bern said, "It is not too late if you wish to turn back now."
"Yes, it's not too late. The Norton family may be gone, but rotten flesh like them is far from rare in our region. It's time to carve it out."
"Indeed. It should be carved out."
"As for the rest that have spoiled to varying degrees, dig out what must be dug, discard what must be discarded, and wash clean what must be... washed!"
A fierce ruthlessness surfaced in Wolflen's gaze. Such an expression had likely not appeared on the deep, calculating old man's face in many years.
Karen continued burning paper offerings, watching the flames dance inside the iron pot. He knew that the York City Region was about to face a conflagration in the truest sense.
This had been decided by the two old men right here, while sipping tremella soup.
Karen recalled how, when turning down Mavaglio's request to visit, he had mentioned that official business would keep him busy upon his return. Yet he truly had not anticipated that this business would arrive so swiftly and prove so profoundly "busy."
Compared to the upcoming grand purge, their previous move against the Norton family was nothing more than an itch being scratched.
And from this point on, there was no question about it... the Whip of Order in the York City Region would become the most powerful, prestigious, and influential branch among all regions under the Church of Order.
Sometimes, one could not help but marvel at how gaining an early step kept one ahead at every subsequent turn. The advantage gained from striking first would snowball until no latecomer could ever catch up.
Back when they brought down the Norton family, Neo had constantly urged Bernie and Harry to push Karen forward as the public figurehead. Even back then, Neo had recognized the advantage of the fast track: as long as the resurgence of their regional Whip of Order was held up as a model, the rewards would pour in endlessly.
And now, this assassination attempt had pushed Head Bishop Wolflen to stake everything on a final gamble. As the leader of the regional native faction, once he resolved to personally wield the hammer and shatter the very shell that shielded his people, it was hard to imagine what the native regional powers could possibly use to fend off the ravenous, wolf-like Whip of Order.
Meanwhile, Karen had conveniently earned recognition and pending rewards for successfully "hunting down the assassin," having already established himself at center stage. With the impending grand operation, he stood to climb even higher.
Under normal circumstances, within an old-style regional Whip of Order, even if one performed one's duties to absolute perfection, one would likely languish until retirement just like Old Coya, earning nothing more than section chief treatment.
Karen had never doubted his own abilities, but the position he occupied right now was truly in the path of the rising wind. Stand a pig in front of a gale like this, and even it would soar into the sky.
Thus, an individual's advancement depended not merely on personal struggle, but also on the tide of history.
Karen picked up the Sword of Diamans and lightly shifted the burning paper vouchers in the iron pot, allowing them to burn more completely.
He thought to himself that for a preliminary briefing on an operation of this magnitude, the Whip of Order would definitely send a representative. As he was now, he was certainly not qualified to make up this "triumvirate."
Therefore, someone else would likely arrive soon.
Sure enough, another figure appeared outside—Regional Chief Harry.
Harry walked in, saw Karen, and said, "You're back?"
Karen stood up and bowed to Harry. "Yes, Regional Chief."
"Did everything go smoothly?"
"Very smoothly. Just went through the formalities."
"Good, good. By the way, help cover my condolence money. I didn't bring any."
"Understood, sir."
Harry picked up a pen, signed his name in the guest registry, and sat down beside Wolflen. "I was originally planning to visit your home. I didn't expect to find you here."
Wolflen chuckled. "There's hardly anyone left at home anyway. It's dreary sitting there alone."
"Healers from other churches have already been invited. Perhaps they will have other treatment options for your condition."
Wolflen waved his hand. "I'm bound for the First Knight Order. Don't go ruining my body with needless meddling. Otherwise, if the day comes when I truly need to stand up and fight, a body riddled with holes won't be able to contribute much."
"Your staying alive is the greatest contribution."
"Leon, fetch a bowl of tremella soup for your regional chief. Try some; it's fragrant and sweet without being cloying."
Following his grandfather's instructions, Leon walked over and served the tremella soup that was already placed on the low table before Harry.
Harry received it, took a sip, and remarked, "The flavor is exquisite."
Saying so, Harry looked up and studied Leon intently. "A very fine young man..."
"Spare me that. I only brought him so you could meet him; he already has an immediate superior," Wolflen cut in. "Besides, once you rack up a few more accomplishments, you'll be leaving anyway. Deciding postings won't be your business."
Harry laughed helplessly. "Words like that truly sting, sir."
"Bah, I'm only speaking the truth, aren't I? If he really needed to be taken to the Dinge Region to enjoy an easy life, I wouldn't need you—I could arrange that myself."
"So, have you made up your mind?"
"I have." Wolflen nodded. "With disaster striking my household, there is a fire burning in my chest."
"I know."
"No, you don't. Ordinarily, with enough time, that fire would gradually die down. But now, I don't have much time left, do I? I can't very well carry this fury into death with me. After all, the next time I awaken, it will surely be when the church needs me. I cannot afford distractions then. So..."
Wolflen patted the back of Harry's hand.
"Go all out."
Harry said solemnly, "The church will remember your contribution."
Wolflen shook his head. "I am not doing this so the church will remember me, nor to pave the way for my only surviving grandson—though in the eyes of outsiders, that may well look like my aim."
Harry hastily interjected, "No, you misunderstand..."
"Heh, I'm not speaking of you, but of myself." Wolflen slowly rose to his feet. "Only at this stage have I come to realize what it truly means to be a real believer of Order.
"I feel ashamed.
"This is my remedy. No, it is my penance.
"Heh... that someone like me could sit in the seat of Head Bishop—what a disgrace."
Bishop Bern said, "Though your conduct was never flawless, it cannot be denied that you have always handled matters well."
Regional Chief Harry nodded in agreement. "If you speak like that, sir, where does that leave the rest of us?"
Wolflen looked at his grandson, then glanced at Karen sitting diagonally behind them. He picked up another spring roll, dipped it into the vinegar, and placed it in his mouth.
"Looking at these young people now... heh, it truly leaves a sour taste in my heart."
Bishop Bern chimed in, "Who wouldn't feel the same?"
Harry feigned an innocent scratch of his head. "I didn't expect my youth to provoke the two of you so deeply."
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
Wolflen walked over to the burning iron pot before Karen, bent down, scooped up a handful of paper money, and tossed it in.
"Burn it. Before I die, burn away all the weeds around me until not a scrap remains."
Bishop Bern and Regional Chief Harry rose as well. Following Wolflen's lead, each grabbed a handful of paper offerings and cast them into the iron pot.
Because so much paper was thrown in at once, the flames were smothered, and thick plumes of smoke began to billow out.
Wolflen clapped his hands, looking somewhat sheepish. "Oops, looks like I snuffed out the fire."
Karen used the tip of his sword to gently create an opening, letting air circulate. Flames immediately flared back to life. With a faint smile, he said:
"It doesn't matter. It can always be rekindled."
Bishop Wolflen placed a hand on Karen's shoulder, speaking with heartfelt gravity:
"Aye. That will be a task for you young people."
***
Wolflen, Harry, and Bern all took their leave. At their level, reaching a tacit understanding through a brief exchange was more than enough. It carried far greater weight than drafting formal contracts, for each of them represented an entire faction.
Leon did not leave, but neither did he continue pretending to sweep the floor. Instead, he leaned against the broom handle, lost in thought.
"Hey," Karen called out.
"Ah, yes, Captain!" Leon snapped back to reality.
"The assassin is dead," Karen added. "I killed him."
"Yes, I heard about that, Captain. I truly..."
"No need to thank me. The score isn't settled yet."
"Grandfather spoke to me about it. He said there is definitely an organization behind the assassin, but uncovering the truth will take time, because the assassin clearly had a misleading purpose in mind."
"Yes, that's correct. But you must have faith. The church will uncover the full picture."
"I'm just worried..." Leon pressed his lips together. "I'm worried this matter will be..."
Karen knew what Leon wanted to say. He was confident the Church of Order would retaliate with brutal severity against such a grave offense, but that retaliation might not take the form Leon hoped for.
"Don't worry about that. Look, someone died in my household as well. That night, my entire family was nearly wiped out."
Earlier, when Karen saw the mourning hall prepared at home, he had imagined what a desolate scene it would have been if everyone at the funeral parlor had perished that night, leaving him to conduct the funeral all on his own.
Then he realized there was no point in fretting over that scenario—if anything happened to Purr, he would have died as well.
Karen stood up, brushing the paper ash off the sleeves of his divine robe, and said:
"So, we will have our vengeance. Trust me, no one can stop it."
"I trust you, Captain." Leon took a deep breath. Over the past few days, he had been plagued by anxiety and despair, but in Karen, he found a steadfast pillar of support.
"Once our vengeance is complete, you may weep before your family's tombstones, drink yourself senseless, stare blankly into space, or wallow in despair. Even if you want to commit suicide then, I won't stop you; I'll even help you pick a dignified and proper way to do it.
"However, until our vengeance is accomplished, I want you to pull yourself together and look driven. Remember, you entered this squad through personal connections. You have no right to poison my squad's atmosphere during our work, no one wants to see it, and you shouldn't expect anyone to coddle you. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain! If you have any need of me, please don't hesitate. Order me as you see fit!"
"Good. Now go empty the paper ash."
***
Before long, the squad members returned to the funeral parlor one after another. At this hour, practically all of them had skipped out on their duties to come back.
Karen greeted them and promptly handed over the reception duties in the mourning hall, heading up to the master bedroom's washroom to take a bath.
Xili carried afternoon tea into the master bedroom, laid it out for Purr, and then walked over to the washroom door, asking:
"Young Master, are there any special requests for dinner?"
"Just make it lavish. Nothing special."
"Oh, understood." Xili was slightly surprised, but nodded right away.
Soaking in the bathtub, Karen wiped his face with a damp towel. Burning paper money followed by a lavish gathering—it truly brought back a familiar sense of atmosphere.
After finishing his bath, he changed into a clean, crisp divine robe and walked out, only for a large golden retriever to lunge toward him.
"Woof, woof, woof!"
Karen reached out and patted Kevin's bald crown.
Kevin maintained his warm, earnest smile.
At this moment, man and dog shared an unspoken understanding.
After offering his warm welcome to Karen, Kevin scurried back to Purr's side and lay down, using his paws to peel chestnuts. Every time he finished peeling one, he nudged it toward Purr for her to eat.
Karen knew that since this dog had returned, the other dog had likely arrived as well.
Sure enough, when Karen pushed open the master bedroom door, he immediately spotted Neo standing in the courtyard with his hands on his hips.
"Well, well, our big hero returns in such low-key fashion! Tell me, when are we eating? I'm starving."
"There are chestnuts inside. You can have some to hold you over."
"Right, there's something I need to tell you first. With the headquarters building undergoing renovations, the leadership made some adjustments to the original zoning and room allocations to make more efficient use of space. Unfortunately..."
"My office was swapped?"
"I haven't even finished setting it up!"
"Skip ahead. Let's talk compensation directly."
Neo threw up his hands, thoroughly disgruntled. "Do you really have to be so blunt?"
"Don't you want to eat dinner sooner?"
"This was planned from above; I only found out later myself. If I had known earlier, I definitely wouldn't..."
"Compensation. Director, you must have prepared it, otherwise you would have dropped off the dog and left. You wouldn't have had the nerve to come here mooching for food."
Neo reached into his coat and produced three small gray cloth dolls, tiny enough to serve as keychains.
"Three substitute dolls."
Karen stared at Neo without a word.
Neo sighed and pulled out a silver bangle. "A barrier bracelet."
Karen kept staring at him in silence.
Neo stomped his foot and produced a scroll. "Almost forgot—a damaged summoning scroll. It's incomplete, but of very high grade. I saved it especially for you. Others can't decipher it, but I know you have a chance of reading it."
As Neo spoke, he lifted the seal on the scroll. Karen instantly sensed an ancient, profound aura. Put on the black market, this item would easily fetch an exorbitant sum.
A smile broke across Karen's face. He reached out, took the substitute dolls, the bracelet, and the scroll into his hands, and scolded playfully:
"Director, look at how you've handled this. With our relationship, it's just swapping an office—was there really any need to act like strangers?"
"Heh."
Just then, Muri walked over and said, "Captain, Director, the Minister has arrived."
Bernie had arrived carrying a commendation order. He could have delivered it to Karen during work tomorrow, but to prevent any undesirable chatter, he had chosen to make a personal trip at dusk.
Thus, when he stepped into the study and saw Neo there as well, he was slightly taken aback.
"Minister."
"Minister."
"Mm," Bernie acknowledged. "Has the Regional Chief visited?"
"Yes, the Regional Chief was here."
"I came in a rush and wasn't prepared. How about this—cover my condolence money for me."
"Certainly, Minister."
"This is the commendation order that was just passed down. The Regional Chief will announce it publicly at tomorrow morning's plenary assembly.
"I brought it over ahead of time to share the good news.
"Congratulations, Karen. Starting tomorrow, you will be the Director of the Disciplinary Inspection Office at our York City Regional Headquarters."
Neo asked with a grin, "Deputy Director?"
Bernie shook his head. "Full Director."
A gleam immediately lit up Neo's eyes. According to normal procedure, every time Karen was promoted, his direct superior would be passively promoted to vacate the seat. That was exactly what happened last time. Trying to sound modest, Neo deliberately inquired:
"Full Director? Then how will the positions be arranged?"
Bernie answered, "It's not as though there is only one Disciplinary Inspection Office."
"Oh, I see." Neo felt a sudden wave of disappointment, but forced himself to pat Karen's shoulder. "Keep at it, work hard. I'll help you assemble the framework for the Second Office as quickly as possible."
Bernie smiled. "I hope the two of you will collaborate closely to swiftly establish the Second Office. As for personnel quotas and budget allocations, don't worry—the department will provide full support."
"Yes, Minister."
"Yes, Minister."
"Well then, I shall take my leave."
"Minister, won't you stay for dinner?" Karen offered.
"No, I need to check on the Head Bishop's health. I'll see you tomorrow at the commendation ceremony."
"Goodbye, Minister."
Once Bernie was gone, Neo took the commendation order from Karen's hand. Looking it over, Neo chuckled:
"Even though the Second Office has to be built from scratch, it doesn't matter. At least your rank was bumped up in one fell swoop, which offers huge advantages for your future progression. After all, regardless of whether you have a full staff under you or not, your next merit will mean promotion from the rank of Director.
"Food must be eaten one bite at a time. In short, don't be impatient. At your age, an exceptional promotion like this is already extraordinary—take it from your First Office Director."
Neo handed the commendation order back to Karen. Just as he was about to offer more words of comfort, he froze. He snatched the document back from Karen's hand, unrolled it, skipped past the material rewards, and looked straight at the very bottom:
*Director of the First Office of the Disciplinary Inspection Committee, Karen Silva.*
"Fuck! Why the hell?!"
Karen reached over, took the commendation order, and read through it. Only then did he realize that Bernie had likely been vague earlier just to avoid awkwardness.
"What on earth does this mean?! Passing me over for a promotion is bad enough, but they shunted me to the Second Office? There isn't a single living soul in the Second Office right now!
"This Church of Order is bullying people too far! I, a Light remnant, have been busting my ass working for Order, and instead of giving me a promotion and a raise, I get sidelined and suppressed like this?!"
Karen consoled him, "Director, food must be eaten one bite at a time. Don't be impatient..."
"Shut up!" Neo raised his hand, glaring at Karen. "The dolls, the bracelet, and the scroll—can you return them to me now?"
Karen replied, "This was planned by the leadership. As you said, we have no power to change it. If you had known earlier..."
Neo's expression and tone immediately softened, turning warm and affectionate: "Karen, look, with the relationship between the two of us..."
Karen remarked, "Indeed, the two of us are equals now."
Neo: "..."
Chapter 587