"I'm home, meow!"
Purr drew a deep, excited breath—then her cat brows knitted. There wasn't much of Karen's scent in the house at all.
Which meant that while she herself had been away, Karen hadn't been coming home much either!
That instantly filled Purr, who had always felt it her duty to "keep an eye on" Karen on behalf of her own great-great-great-great-granddaughter, with a thick sense of crisis:
Well, well. The moment I'm not home, you stop coming home too, is that it!
Purr had full confidence in Karen's self-control where women were concerned. But it was like testing human nature with a banknote left on the table—the first time he doesn't take it, fine, but you can't leave money on the table every single day. Sooner or later there'd be trouble.
A man's descent, after all, always starts with not wanting to go home.
Little Kanna pushed the door open, walked into the bedroom, and flopped down on the big bed. She was tired; she wanted to sleep.
Purr jumped onto her and patted her face with a soft paw. "This is Karen's bed. You may sleep in it, but you have to take a bath first."
Her great-great-great-great-grandnephew-in-law had an almost obsessive cleanliness when it came to his bed.
No matter how tired he was when he returned home, he had to shower in the bathroom before getting into bed. Once he'd been so exhausted he was practically on the verge of collapsing; he lay down on the bed, and Purr had casually remarked, "Not going to take a bath?"
He had gotten right up immediately, eyes bloodshot, and gone to shower anyway.
Purr had felt guilty about that for a long time: Ah, I really shouldn't have!
Little Kanna sat up, walked over to Kevin's dog bed, and got ready to lie down.
If she couldn't sleep in the bed, she'd sleep in the dog bed.
In her eyes, there was nothing degrading about sleeping in a dog bed; most importantly, Kevin, in her perception, was not lowly in the slightest.
Seeing this, Purr had no choice but to jump off the bed, trot in front of her, and command:
"You're a human right now—go take a bath!"
Lying on the dog cushion, Little Kanna looked at Purr, and Purr looked back at her.
Beside them, Kevin wagged his tail and barked toward the bathroom: "Woof, woof, woof!"
Little Kanna spread her arms, and a plume of white mist began to swirl out.
Purr shouted at once:
"Are you trying to burst this place apart by turning into your true form?!"
The white mist receded, and Little Kanna stood up. She was very reluctant to take a bath, but she didn't want to throw a tantrum at Purr.
She walked into the bathroom with Purr following behind. Kevin quietly nudged the bathroom door shut, then went into the bedroom, pawed open the wardrobe, and searched for Karen's clothes for her.
The little bone dragon didn't like girl's clothes; she liked wearing Karen's old ones.
Once he picked out an outfit, Kevin held it in his mouth and placed it outside the bathroom door.
That done, Kevin hopped onto the sofa in the living room, pushed up his gold wire-rimmed glasses, and began reading the newspaper on the coffee table.
Inside the bathroom, a naked young girl and a black cat squatted face-to-face beneath the spraying hot water.
"Wash your hair first. Here, use this."
Little Kanna began bathing under Purr's direction.
When she finished, as if out of a sense of equality, she washed Purr as well.
She felt this was sharing hardships together, but Purr found it quite comfortable; she was, after all, a cat who loved cleanliness.
Once both were clean, Purr jumped onto Little Kanna's head, conjured a small fireball to blow-dry her own fur, and dried Little Kanna's hair in the process.
Stepping out, Little Kanna picked up Karen's old clothes from outside and put them on.
"Next time we visit the research institute, we'll have to take a few more of Karen's clothes and alter them for you."
They had brought several sets before, but during testing Little Kanna had instinctively reverted to her true form several times from stress, naturally shredding the clothes to pieces.
At the mention of returning to the research institute, pain showed in Little Kanna's eyes. She disliked that place—loathed it, in fact.
Purr comforted her: "Just bear with it a bit longer. It's so they can formulate the proper nutritional meals for you."
Little Kanna didn't reply. She walked straight back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed.
Purr lay down beside her.
Soon, Little Kanna rolled onto her side and looked at Purr.
"Go to sleep, little one."
Little Kanna reached out, gently took Purr's tail in hand, and closed her eyes with a sense of security.
At the crack of dawn, the apartment door opened and Karen walked in.
Kevin immediately put down his newspaper, took off his glasses, hopped off the sofa, and came over to Karen begging for pats. Karen reached out and rubbed his bald head. Man and hound had already developed a tacit understanding—or rather, a game where *I pretend you're my master and you pretend I'm a dog*.
Karen walked to the bedroom, pushed the door open, and saw Purr and Little Kanna fast asleep on the bed. Not wishing to disturb them, he returned to the living room, sat on the sofa, closed his eyes, and rested.
Kevin quietly lay on his side on the carpet, spread out the newspaper on the floor, and resumed reading.
After less than three hours of sleep, Karen woke up and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
Sleep was humanity's most precious and effective way of recuperating, yet it was invariably the first thing to be squeezed.
Standing up, Karen entered the bathroom, took a shower, and changed into a fresh divine robe.
Whether last night's events would trigger a chain reaction from above was beyond his control, and he didn't care to ponder it. At the very least, he had to pay a visit to everyone who had helped him yesterday.
This wasn't mere courtesy; it was etiquette and standard procedure.
The dormitory stood right across from the headquarters building. Karen headed into headquarters first.
The moment he entered, he felt the atmosphere had turned rather peculiar.
The passing priests took the initiative to greet him. On the surface, it seemed no different from before, but beneath it lay a noticeable sense of distance.
Yet this "distance" was by no means negative; rather, they truly viewed Karen as an existence of a different "status," or even an entirely different "species."
The security assignment for the Church of the Desert delegation had been arranged by Karen. He had mobilized numerous Whip of Order squads, and headquarters had dispatched considerable manpower as well.
Everyone knew how an ordinary security assignment ought to be structured. Karen's approach—where internal surveillance far exceeded external surveillance—had been abnormal from the start. Although Karen had been briefly replaced by the Regional Chief last night, the Chief hadn't altered Karen's plan in the slightest. With a single command, the original arrangements activated, purging the Church of the Desert faithful residing in the hotel with utmost speed.
Within bureaucratic institutions, there existed open secrets: things clear to insiders, yet leaving outsiders completely bewildered.
Everyone understood what Karen had originally intended. Those not directly involved were informed by colleagues, and everyone knew of the twists and turns along the way. Even with such complications, the Desert personnel had still been eradicated.
When someone courts death and strikes it lucky once, people envy them; when someone courts death repeatedly and continues to achieve lucky outcomes, people admire their courage and acknowledge their competence—because everyone knows it cannot possibly be just luck.
Furthermore, from Karen's perspective, this incident was not much different from his past experiences. But in the eyes of the department's priests, past events had merely been internal power struggles within headquarters or the region, whereas this time it had escalated to outright defiance of higher-ups' directives—and he had still emerged victorious, returning to work the very next morning as if nothing had happened...
The nature of the incident and the influence it generated were entirely different. Being formidable at home made people fear you, but being formidable toward the outside world earned genuine reverence.
Karen wasn't particularly sensitive to this shift, but Alfred was overjoyed. Such an aura made it significantly easier for him to help his young master consolidate control over the Whip of Order. People were gradually ceasing to view Karen merely as a department head appointed by the Holy Court, and instead looking upon him as the uncompromising front-runner of the entire region.
Sus's secretary led Karen to the office. Pre-instructed, he didn't bother announcing Karen and opened the door directly.
Inside, Sus was asleep on the sofa. Despite his small frame, his snores were surprisingly loud.
Yet the moment he heard Karen's footsteps, Sus opened his eyes, sat up, and let out a sigh.
Karen stood before him.
Sus didn't bother with polite invitations to sit. Instead, he smiled faintly, and both men spoke in unison:
"Thank you."
"Thank you."
Last night, they had indeed watched each other's backs.
Karen hadn't thrown his direct superior under the bus to shoulder the blame, and Sus, using his authority as superior, had shielded Karen from the pressure above.
"Two of them survived: Elanga and Luther. Plus the one lying in the hospital, Miki—those three didn't die," Sus said. "Though it won't be long before they're sent to the gallows."
The butcher's cleaver had already fallen, laying everything out in the open. Regardless of whether the factions above approved, matters had to follow standard procedure now.
"Understood," Karen nodded.
"All right." Sus shrugged. "I'm exhausted. I just want a good sleep."
"Why didn't you head back to your residence to rest, then?"
"Because I knew you'd come by this morning. It's your style."
"Sorry for wearing you out."
"Don't mention it. I rather like your principled style. It's far more agreeable and easier to deal with than those unprincipled fellows who care only about self-interest."
"The higher-ups..."
"I'll keep an eye on them, but there shouldn't be any trouble in the short term. That Director isn't someone who can handle real crises; at the very least, he won't sacrifice his own future just for revenge." Sus hopped off the sofa, turned to glance at his desk, and suddenly chuckled. "I have a feeling that down the road, this office of mine will belong to you sooner or later."
"You should know my current situation."
"Yes, I know. I used to think you had no future left, but I don't see it that way anymore. Last night, I even engaged in some self-reflection."
"You did...?"
"It was worth reflecting on. Afterward, I saw the gap between us. Some interests are visible, whether in the immediate present or the future; but other interests are invisible, and pursuing them can even make one look exceedingly foolish.
"Someone like me can probably only climb slowly through political maneuvering, yet I could easily be blown away by a gust of wind out of nowhere, because my principles aren't firm, meaning I have no roots. You're different."
"You flatter me."
"No, it's not flattery. In the secular world, the difference between you and me is that between a bureaucrat and a statesman." Sus tapped Karen's leg with the back of his hand. "I'll instruct my people to build up publicity for you—framing this as avenging the former Head Bishop, done entirely on your initiative. I'm telling you beforehand so you don't misunderstand and think I'm dodging responsibility again."
"Regional Chief, I did it to avenge myself."
"Well, didn't it avenge Wolflen all the same?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters. Propaganda always needs different points of emphasis. All right, I'm heading back to sleep, I'm dead tired. You probably haven't rested well either, but next you have to visit the Church Affairs Building to see Bern, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Go see him early, then get some proper rest."
Yawning, Sus stepped out of his office, with Karen following behind.
Outside, Karen bumped right into Alfred and Leon walking over.
Alfred held a stack of documents, but he wasn't in a hurry to present them to his young master. Better to handle that routine when alone in the office; here outside, his young master would have to flip through them for appearances' sake, unnecessarily straining his eyes.
Leon stepped in front of Karen, drew a deep breath, and snapped to attention.
If the church didn't lack such protocol, Karen felt the man might have given him a military salute.
Alfred smiled and asked, "Young Master, are you heading to the Church Affairs Building next?"
"Yes."
"Let Leon drive you."
"Isn't he busy right now?"
After last night's ordeal, the coming days were bound to be hectic with countless loose ends to wrap up.
"He's too agitated right now to handle desk work properly. It's better for him to accompany you for a drive to clear his mind. Vic can assist me here; that boy is feeling terribly guilty and urgently needs a heavy workload to keep his mind occupied."
"Heh."
Leon spoke up immediately: "Minister, I'll go bring the car around."
At the parking lot, Karen saw Leon drive up in his own modified secondhand Ponce. Sitting in the passenger seat, Karen asked, "Where's the VIP car?"
"Minister Neo drove it off before dawn, saying he was taking it for maintenance."
"Sigh, how petty."
"Minister..." Leon began, his emotions welling up.
"Have you gone home yet?"
"Huh? What?"
"I asked if you went home last night."
"No, I haven't had the chance yet."
"Don't give me any 'thank yous.' If you have words to say and emotions to vent, go home and say them properly before your family's memorial portraits."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
Leon drove Karen to the Church Affairs Building.
Just as Karen was about to tell him to wait in the car, Leon swiftly hopped out, ran over to the passenger side, and held the door open for him.
"You don't need to do this."
"Just for today," Leon said with a smile.
Karen could only nod, walking up the steps of the Church Affairs Building accompanied by Leon.
The former Head Bishop's grandson walked slightly ahead of him, fully adopting the posture of an escorting subordinate. Entering the Church Affairs Building in such fashion carried immense presence.
Yet what followed was even more striking: as Karen crossed the ground-floor administrative hall toward the dedicated elevator, many clerks paused their work and bowed respectfully to Karen—using secular deference rather than formal church etiquette.
Karen could only return slight nods before entering the elevator.
Reaching the top floor, Leon and an attendant opened the office door for Karen and remained outside.
Behind the desk, Bern was eating breakfast—a classic Wien morning meal of pies served with fermented bean paste.
"Have you eaten breakfast?"
Shaking his head, Karen answered, "I have."
"Mm, it really makes one wonder if you're truly a Wien man."
At times, sincere thoughts were spoken in jest.
Karen walked up to the desk, poured a glass of water, noticed ice cubes already prepared beside it, and added them before raising the cold glass:
"Thank you."
Without Bern's forewarning and assistance, Karen might not have had the time to react last night.
"Thank Wolflen," Bern replied, chewing on a bean paste pie. "We were in the same trench to begin with."
Since Bern had put it that way, further gratitude from Karen would seem overly sentimental.
"Another day, let's head to Lemar's pottery studio for another barbecue, and we can have a proper chat."
"Certainly. You name the time."
"Mm." Bern popped the last piece of pie into his mouth and licked his fingers. "The mysterious figure who appeared last night and held back the Guardian—who was that?"
"I'll bring some vegetables to grill next time as well; having only meat gets greasy."
"Of course, you're the expert."
Bern stood up, picked up a damp towel nearby to wipe his hands, and asked, "What do you plan to do about Davins's group?"
"I was going to ask whether now is a good time for retaliation."
"It isn't. Because they don't exist solely within our region."
"I see."
"However, we can clean up our own region first. I'll coordinate that matter with your superior, and I trust he will hand it right over to you."
"I will cooperate with you."
"Collaborate," Bern corrected with a yawn. "Also, one more thing: I've already had word spread that you defied superior orders strictly to avenge Wolflen. Although the old Head Bishop took down quite a few bishops and ministers before his death, his reputation among the lower and middle ranks of the Regional Administrative Office has always been stellar. He was dearly beloved."
"Thank you."
Bern shook his head. "I'm merely doing what I consider right. Remember what I told you at the pottery studio during our barbecue? When you believe something is right, go and see it through.
"Let me add one more thing: no matter the circumstances, always maintain faith in Order."
"Did you... receive some fresh news?"
"Oh? You caught that? Sigh, what a pity. When I first met you, I should have listened to my son's advice—framed you with a crime, stripped away all your titles, and secretly recruited you under my wing.
"For a talent like you not to be dispatched to other churches as an undercover agent for Order is truly a waste."
"I think your son is already exceptionally gifted."
"What does the Church of Pamires amount to? With your capabilities, you could easily be planted as an undercover agent in the other orthodox churches, haha..." Bern suddenly chuckled. "Just a joke. You had better not turn out to be an undercover agent planted inside our own church,哈哈哈."
"Vegetables won't be enough; I'll also bring along some home-brewed rice wine. It's light and sweet."
Bern: "..."
***
Jisen walked out of the teleportation array hall. Bandages were plainly visible across his body, yet he hadn't dared remain in York City Region for further treatment, choosing instead to teleport back to Dinge Region first thing in the morning.
Returning to Dinge Region brought him not the slightest relief; rather, his heart felt even more terrified.
Next, he would have to face interrogation and accountability from the department, his family, and his faction.
All of it weighed heavily upon him like an insurmountable mountain.
Just then, he noticed a carriage parked by the entrance, bearing both the insignia of Order and his family crest.
Jisen took a deep breath, deliberately exaggerating his limp as he approached. Only upon drawing close did he realize the driver was his grandfather's personal valet.
Was his grandfather personally coming to hold him accountable?
The valet opened the carriage door, revealing an elderly man seated inside with stark white hair and beard, his expression stern and cold.
Jisen stepped into the carriage and dropped to his knees before the elder:
"Grandfather, I was wrong, I was truly wrong! I had no choice..."
The old man let out a long breath and said, "No. You did well. Exceptionally well."
A chill ran down Jisen's spine. He would have preferred his grandfather scolding him harshly or inflicting punishment rather than speaking in such reverse irony; it meant his grandfather's fury had reached an unprecedented peak.
The old man continued, "You made the right choice. Heh, you truly possess tremendous courage."
"No, Grandfather, listen to me, I was—"
"Heh, the entire family owes you a proper debt of gratitude this time!"
Jisen: "..."
Chapter 665