Awakening... the Powerful?

Night fell. Karen sat at the desk in his bedroom. A sheet of white paper lay spread out on the desk, topped with a brand-new set of paints. After hesitating again and again, Karen ultimately couldn't bring himself to use this box of paints. Instead, he picked up a sharpened pencil he had borrowed from Lunt earlier and began doodling aimlessly across the paper. First he sketched a pair of human eyes, then expanded outward to other facial features, and finally drew down the neck and shoulders. Soon enough, a "person" Karen didn't even recognize materialized on the page. Even the gender was ambiguous; Karen himself had no idea whether it was male or female. Once he finished, he didn't bother admiring his work. He simply turned the sheet over, face down. If another psychiatrist were standing here, they might have analyzed Karen's current state of mind through the sketch, but Karen had no interest in psychoanalyzing himself. "Bro, do you need me to pour you a glass of water?" asked Lunt, who was lying in bed playing with cards. "Sure." Lunt got out of bed and left the bedroom. A moment later, he walked back in carrying a glass of ice water and set it on Karen's desk. "Bro, are you in a bad mood?" "No." Karen shook his head. "Maybe just feeling a bit stuffy." "Then here, this card is for you, bro." Lunt placed a card in front of Karen. It was quite exquisitely printed, displaying a full moon with the inscription: [Moonlight Cleansing: Dispels all negative magic effects.] Lunt still had a whole stack of similar cards in his hand. It was one of the most popular toys among schoolboys of his age in recent years, and Lunt spent more than half of his monthly pocket money collecting them. Karen could understand this well enough; in his previous life as a child, he had also bought countless bags of instant noodles just to collect cards like these. "Thanks." "You're welcome, bro." Lunt climbed back under his quilt. Karen took two sips of the ice water, leaned back against the chair, braced his hands, and stretched lazily. "I'm going out for some fresh air. Want to come along?" Lunt asked curiously, "Will Grandpa be coming?" "We can go ask him together." Lunt stuck out his tongue. "Bro, I don't want to risk that." The family's awe of Grandpa was truly etched into their bones. "Here, bro, have another one." Lunt drew another card and handed it to Karen. Karen took it. This card depicted a figure with a shadow stretching diagonally behind them. [Shadow Guardian: Summons a black figure to accompany you.] "You've already given me two. Are you sure you can spare them?" Karen asked. Lunt grinned. "Some cards are easier to get, not hard to collect at all. I have plenty of duplicates." "Mm, that's good then." Karen walked out of the bedroom. The door to Grandpa's study stood open, and inside, Uncle Mason could be seen standing on a ladder changing a lightbulb. Karen walked in and helped steady the ladder for his uncle. While changing the bulb, Uncle Mason remarked, "Old Mr. Longmar, a long-time member of the church, is on his deathbed. Mrs. Longmar called to ask your grandfather to go offer prayers for him, and young Mr. Longmar came by in his car to pick him up personally." "Grandpa works so hard," Karen said. "Tell me about it! Half of our family's steady business comes from your grandfather's reputation. All right, all done." Uncle Mason climbed down from the ladder, walked over to the switch, and flicked it on. The light turned on. "Oh, right, Karen, care for a late-night snack? Your aunt just bought us a whole new crate of canned herring this afternoon." "That sounds wonderful, but I'm not hungry right now. Eating canned herring when one isn't hungry is a crime against it, so I'm planning to go out for a walk instead." "Ah, what a missed treat then," Uncle Mason said with a hint of regret. "You know the family gives us very little time when we're allowed to open canned herring, especially once winter sets in and we can't open every window to air out the place. They usually act like the two of us detonated a poison gas bomb in here. Alas, those poor souls can never grasp the true essence of gourmet cuisine, can they?" "Indeed. A moment of silence for those who have lost herring as their soul's companion." Feigning great regret, Karen left the study and went downstairs. At the second-floor dining table, Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary were going over the accounts together, speaking in hushed voices as they seemed to debate the details of a certain payment. Neither noticed Karen coming down the stairs. He arrived at the first-floor living room. It was quiet here, with only the light by the foot of the stairs on, leaving several corners of the room shrouded in deep shadows. To an outsider, it could easily evoke all sorts of unsettling imaginations. Karen looked toward the front door, but rather than heading outside right away, he walked down into the basement and stopped outside his aunt's workroom. The two welfare-case bodies lying inside had already received preliminary preparation from his aunt. The magician was dressed in a cheap suit, while Mandila had been changed into a long red dress. Karen looked at Mandila. Before long, as if responding to some sort of calling, Mandila sat up from the steel mortuary table. "It must be stuffy staying in here too. Care to take a walk outside together?" Tomorrow morning, the two bodies would be displayed on the first floor one after another. Once the procedures were completed and the photos taken, they would be sent to Paul's crematory to be incinerated. Karen returned to the first-floor living room. After making sure no family members were coming down, Mandila, who was following behind him, stepped outside as well. Dressed in her long gown with her makeup done, she gave off a gentle, quiet impression. Just as he stepped out the courtyard gate, Karen spotted a figure dressed in a red suit walking toward him—it was Alfred. Alfred saw Karen, and he also saw Mandila standing right behind him. He immediately marveled inwardly: *Oh heavens, is this the kind of peculiar hobby only a great being possesses—taking a dead person out for a stroll in the middle of the night?* "Young Master." Alfred bowed in greeting. Karen hadn't expected Alfred to come by so late. Had he known Alfred was coming, he wouldn't have "called" Mandila along to keep him company. "Why are you here?" "It's like this, Young Master: I've found some leads on that circus, so I came to report to you. They haven't actually left the vicinity of Rojia City. Instead, they're hiding out on a farm, watching which way the wind blows. I will continue using my connections to keep an eye on them and gather more intelligence." "All right. Send a copy of the intelligence to Diss as well." "Yes, I understand. Shall I go report to Old Master Diss right now?" Alfred felt he probably shouldn't play the third wheel, even if the companion the Young Master had brought out for a walk tonight was... a corpse. "Grandpa isn't home. He went to Mr. Longmar's house to offer prayers." "Mr. Longmar?" Alfred rolled the name over in his mind. "Probably just an ordinary believer," Karen said. "Understood, Young Master." Diss had told him seven days remained. Midnight was fast approaching, which meant only six days would be left. In such a precious countdown, Diss had gone out of his way at night to visit an ordinary believer's home to perform the duties of an ordinary priest. Was that hard to understand? No, it was easy to understand, because that was simply how Diss operated. "Alfred, have you ever been to Wien?" Karen asked as he walked forward. "This subordinate has been there. Wien is a magnificent country," Alfred replied, falling into step. He answered simply, knowing full well that even if the Young Master had never been to Wien, he could certainly acquire knowledge of it through various means. The real intent behind the question was just a subtle way of saying: *Walk with me for a bit.* One person, two people, three on a stroll. Karen walked in the center, Alfred followed half a step behind to his side, and Mandila trailed steadily behind, perfectly matching Karen's pace. For the next stretch of road, Karen didn't initiate any conversation, Alfred tactfully remained silent, and Mandila certainly wasn't going to suddenly speak up and say: *Oh, the moonlight is lovely tonight.* They entered a small park on Mink Street, which was really just an open clearing with a few potted plants and several benches. Karen sat down on a bench, and Alfred took a seat beside him. In his mind, Karen had originally signaled Mandila to sit down as well. Mandila received the signal, walked over to Karen, turned her back to him, and sat directly down on his lap. If Karen were to wrap his arms around her right now, it would be the classic posture of an intimate couple. Alfred's eyelids twitched slightly, but he immediately averted his gaze, staring at the dim yellow streetlight opposite them. What a beautiful lamppost; this streetlamp was truly a wondrous manifestation of the Creator. Karen hadn't expected Mandila to sit down like this either. His aunt couldn't possibly have dressed her in very thick clothing—whether corpses felt the cold was beside the point; under normal circumstances, they couldn't file complaints against his aunt anyway. Thus, clad only in a dress, Mandila felt icy cold to the touch, and her muscles had long since stiffened, making her uncomfortably hard against him, like being leaned on by an intensely muscular person. *Mandila, go sit over there.* Karen spoke in his mind. Mandila stood up, walked to the bench opposite them, and sat down facing Karen and Alfred. "Alfred," Karen called out. "Yes, Young Master?" Alfred, still immersed in the artistic brilliance of the streetlight's designer, barely snapped out of it. "Can Mandila remain in this state indefinitely?" Karen asked. "She cannot, because the spirituality preserved within a human body is finite." A red glow began to tint Alfred's eyes as he pointed at Mandila and continued explaining, "This subordinate can clearly see on Miss Mandila the 'saliva' left behind by the beguiling aberrant demon that Purr mentioned—which is to say, an array. The purpose of this array is twofold: first, to better preserve the spirituality within Miss Mandila's corpse, and second, to make controlling her easier. "On a macro level, Miss Mandila's spirituality will continue to decline and leak away, though the presence of the array on her body will slow down this process. "On a micro level, the array on Miss Mandila's body actually wears down and depletes much faster, requiring periodic re-enchantment, much like touching up makeup. "This subordinate can already see traces of the array peeling away from Miss Mandila. Perhaps tomorrow and the day after, you will still be able to call Miss Mandila out for a stroll like tonight, but tomorrow she might walk with a limp, the day after her posture may turn bizarre, and by the day after that, she might only be able to crawl behind you. "Further down the line, once the array on her body dissipates completely, she will likely be just like those ordinary people you previously 'awakened'—stirring for a brief period before sinking back into silence." "So this state cannot be sustained forever?" "Yes, because it is a consumable. I suspect Miss Mandila was naturally someone endowed with relatively rich spirituality. People of this sort are actually very well suited for entering religious circles to undergo purification. The circus's beguiling aberrant demon probably took note of this trait and chose her to refine and control, because in his eyes, Miss Mandila must have made prime material." "Then what about Ms. Molly? Did you 'resurrect' her?" "No, no, no, I did not resurrect Ms. Molly. Rather, due to family heritage, there was already a peculiar trait deep within her bloodline. It was very faint, and that lineage died out long ago, but..." "Atavism?" Karen suggested. "A very apt description, likely so. Furthermore, Ms. Molly happened to come into contact with a source of contamination by chance, which meant she had begun being contaminated long ago. Even without that car accident, she was destined to gradually transform into an aberrant demon once deeply corrupted. "All I did after her accident was gather her severed remains in time and help provide some simple nourishment. My primary effort was actually safeguarding her consciousness so that she wouldn't lose her sanity and become a madman after successfully transforming into an aberrant demon. "Fortunately, Ms. Molly has always been very emotional. While she might carelessly frighten petty thieves to death, on the whole, she possesses the logical reasoning of a normal person. Her only flaw is that her emotions are somewhat prone to destabilizing. "Then again, people who are impulsive and emotionally volatile are quite common among normal populations as well, aren't they?" "Put that way, Ms. Molly and Miss Mandila are entirely different." "Indeed. Miss Mandila's state is a transformation after true, literal death, whereas Ms. Molly was already half-demon, half-human before the car accident. "Moreover, that beguiling aberrant demon merely controlled Miss Mandila's body through a crude array, allowing her to take the stage time after time with a certain mechanical stiffness. "His technique is a completely different concept from your 'Awakening,' Young Master. In this subordinate's view, your ability leans closer to that of an Inquisitor of the Church of Order—rekindling the residual spirituality preserved within a corpse. It is a natural form of 'awakening,' whereas the beguiling aberrant demon's method resembles hypnosis." "Can spirituality only be continuously consumed?" Karen asked. "Is this depletion necessarily irreversible?" Alfred sank into deep thought. After a long silence, he offered a cautious reply: "In truth, for questions of this nature, you would be better off asking the black cat at home. This subordinate swears that the black cat in your house is absolutely the most knowledgeable... cat in this world." "There are some things I feel are more suitable to ask you, because I believe Alfred will always stand by my side." "!!!" Alfred froze. "Yes, Young Master, I will forever be your most loyal servant!" Alfred pulled out a cigarette and offered it to Karen. Karen waved his hand in refusal. "Smoke it yourself." "Yes, Young Master." Thrilled beyond measure, Alfred lit a cigarette for himself. At the same time, the concept for a new mural surfaced in his mind: *One day, when the Great Being wished to smoke, his loyal servant Alfred ignited the lighter for him;* *God said, 'Let there be light,' and Alfred struck the flame for God.* Alfred was so moved he could hardly contain himself, taking several deep drags of smoke without even realizing he had forgotten to exhale. He was an intensely rational, analytical, and intelligent man, yet it was precisely this type of person who, once their deepest desires were struck, would exhibit an overwhelming reaction that ordinary people could scarcely comprehend. "Regarding what you just asked, Young Master, this subordinate believes it is not absolute. Perhaps I should amend my previous incomplete description: some individuals who were quite powerful in life might possess abundant spiritual power after death, provided their corpses are well preserved. "Furthermore, the Church of Order's spell of 'Awakening' rouses the corpse, and to a great extent, the awakened corpse inherits a portion of their memories from life—meaning they regard themselves as the person they once were. "Here arises a condition: once a corpse that was sufficiently powerful in life is 'awakened,' not only does it possess deep intrinsic reserves, but along with a certain degree of restored self-awareness, it could even learn to resume training as it did in life to replenish itself... "Granted, the latter form of training would surely undergo specific changes, and adaptation issues would be involved, but theoretically, it is possible. "The problem, however, is that corpses of the powerful in life are raw materials actively reclaimed by the major churches. When core members of orthodox churches die, their remains cannot be disposed of casually; people from administrative offices will retrieve and secure them. "Moreover, "most importantly, "this subordinate has heard... well, this is quite easy to understand as well: "The more powerful someone was in life, and the better preserved their corpse is, the harder it becomes to 'awaken' them. "Because maintaining it demands exponentially multiplying costs from the caster, no different from... another form of a god descent ritual. "Take Old Master Diss for example..." Pausing, Alfred immediately shook his head. "No, Old Master Diss cannot be used as an example; Old Master Diss is a rare, extreme case that ruins all sense of perspective. "Take an ordinary Inquisitor of the Church of Order as an example. For him to 'awaken' an ordinary person's corpse is not difficult. "Awakening a corpse that possessed richer spirituality in life is somewhat more difficult. "Awakening a corpse that was an aberrant demon, another race, or a cleric belonging to a faith system carries a sharply increased cost. "And awakening an entity that was immensely powerful in life... he might very well fail while completely draining himself dry in the process. "Just like a god descent ritual, where failure often ends with the officiant becoming a discarded sacrifice. "Therefore, Young Master..." Speaking to this point, Alfred suddenly froze. Then, with great effort, he turned his head to look at his young master, his face breaking into wild ecstasy! "Wait, that's not right! Young Master, you haven't undergone purification yet, you haven't entered the church's system, and you don't operate within your own faith system. You... to a certain degree, you are merely an ordinary person. "Yet you can already 'awaken' corpses right now, which means your burden when performing an 'Awakening' is vastly lighter than that of other Inquisitors!" To make an imperfect analogy: It was like someone earning a monthly salary of three thousand lubi who went to buy a radio that cost eight hundred lubi. Whereas his young master had a monthly allowance of only three hundred lubi, yet buying that exact same radio cost him a mere eighty lubi. Thus, although the Young Master's income was nominally low, the purchasing power he achieved was identical. This meant that once his young master entered society, started working, and earned a normal person's monthly wage, he could spend three thousand lubi and achieve ten times the effect of anyone on the same level! As for why the shop owner would be willing to sell a radio to his young master for only eighty lubi? That was hard to explain, yet also very simple to explain; because human nature inherently "deified" anything before it that defied explanation. One could only say that his young master could rely on his status as an evil god to cash in on face value and receive the ultimate discount. In fact, to make an even more exaggerated and irresponsible bold hypothesis... perhaps when the Young Master went to buy the radio, the shop owner hadn't charged him a single cent for it at all, and the eighty lubi spent hadn't gone to the shopkeeper, but had merely been the taxi fare for the Young Master's round trip to the shop. "So is this why you wanted to take a walk tonight, Young Master?" Alfred faced Karen, his rear already lifting from the bench, almost poised in a half-crouch. "I've been contemplating this question," Karen said. "If I truly possess a natural affinity with corpses—just as Purr said, that I have a trait that makes the exam questions write out their own answers— "then does that mean I can seek out some well-preserved corpses that were powerful in life and help resurrect them? "That way, wouldn't I gain an immensely powerful bodyguard? "Naturally, what I would gain isn't merely immediate combat strength, but also experience, wisdom, and manifestations of certain unique abilities." Diss had promised him that six days from now, he wouldn't die; but once Karen went to Wien, how could he ensure that he would remain absolutely safe? After all, having grown accustomed to the absolute security provided by Diss, losing it would surely feel intensely uncomfortable. Naturally, his thoughts had turned toward this special ability of his. Corpses of that caliber were hard to find—first because of preservation requirements, and second because of church reclamation systems; even the bodies of aberrant demons and other races were raw materials fiercely contested among their respective factions. Still, if one searched, there would always be opportunities to find some. Death was unpredictable; who knew where someone might unexpectedly perish? "Your idea is truly marvelous and magnificent, Young Master!" Alfred exclaimed with intense excitement. "Once we reach Wien, this subordinate will immediately seek out suitable targets so we can run experiments. "For example, ancient tombs in Wien, mausoleums of fallen religions, or even the royal museums of Wien, which house several well-preserved mummies—we can try our hand at all of them!" Karen nodded. That was precisely what he had in mind. "It's getting late. Let's head home," Karen said. The conversation was finished, and the concrete execution once they arrived in Wien would fall to Alfred. In fact, even before they set out for Wien, the sensible and obedient Alfred would likely begin making preliminary arrangements and plans. The three of them walked back to the house together. Fortunately, none of the family members were on the first floor, allowing Miss Mandila to walk back inside unobtrusively. Purr had lived in the house for all these years and was forbidden from speaking to anyone in the family except Diss. Karen was the same; he couldn't possibly parade Mandila's corpse before his uncle and aunt to broaden their horizons—that would violate Diss's strict injunction. Karen was in no rush to head down to the basement. Instead, he pointed to the coffin resting on the mortuary slab that would be used tomorrow, gesturing for Mandila to lie inside. Once Mandila lay down, Karen stood by the edge of the coffin, looked at her, and asked in his mind: *Are you willing to be buried?* "Outside... cold... here... warm..." "All right." Karen nodded, turned to Alfred, and said, "Before you head back, leave a stack of cash by our living room entrance along with a letter asking for Mandila to be buried in the ground." "Yes, Young Master, I understand." Karen gently tapped the side of the coffin and said, "All right, you can go back down and rest for now. Tomorrow, you will receive a burial. I will see you off personally and mourn for you." Mandila stepped out of the coffin and walked directly toward the stairs leading to the basement. But halfway there, she suddenly turned around and walked back toward Karen. Drawing close, she leaned forward gently and planted a kiss on Karen's cheek, then turned again and descended into the basement. Karen froze where he stood, his fingers brushing against the spot where he had just been kissed. Alfred immediately praised, "Young Master, your charm truly cannot be stopped even by life and death!" Karen turned his head to look at Alfred, his expression deadly serious. "She sat opposite us in the park and heard our entire conversation. "Just now, for instance, my instruction to her was to return to the basement, yet she turned back on her own initiative to kiss me. "This means that if we enthusiastically 'awaken' a corpse that was powerful in life, the very first thing that corpse might do upon resurrection is turn around and swat the two of us dead. "She was warning me."