Evil God, a Gift?

Entering the living room, collapsing their umbrellas, fastening the straps, then gripping the handles and snapping them backward three times in quick succession: *Swish!* *Swish!* *Swish!* Grandfather and grandson moved in perfect unison. Diss walked up the stairs. Karen's lips parted slightly, but he said nothing, simply watching Diss head upstairs. "Meow..." Purr's voice carried from the sofa in the living room. Karen walked over, sat down, and with practiced ease lifted Purr onto his lap. "Let me ask you something." "Ask away." "Alfred once said he fought Diss to a draw. Of course, he claimed Diss only used spells below the rank of Inquisitor." "Oh, that's completely normal. It just means Diss had no intention of playing the radio goblin to death from the start." "So, is it possible that while playing around with Alfred and deliberately holding back his strength, Diss ended up getting hurt? Like a severe injury on his arm, for example." Purr's eyes widened as she stared at Karen. "What is it?" "Karen, if you were playing with an ant, would you accidentally let its pincers slash a huge gash in your arm? Or even if that ant really did slice a huge gash into your arm, would you be generous enough to spare it instead of just stomping it to death?" "I understand." "Why ask such a bizarre question? If Diss fought that radio goblin, he probably had to measure his strength with extreme care—meow, meow, meow—terrified he might crush him to bits by accident." Karen leaned back against the sofa. So, the wounds he had treated on Diss's arm when they returned in the hearse from Mr. Hoffen's hospital—those patches of charred skin—hadn't been inflicted by Alfred? Previously, Karen had assumed Diss's injury was related to Alfred. The reason he found it odd now was that since he had realized today that the killing intent Diss showed that day at the doorstep hadn't been directed at him, could some of his other prior assumptions also be false? For example, as his understanding of Diss grew, alongside Alfred's shifting attitude toward Diss—especially after their visit to Mr. Morf's house that night, when Alfred had adopted a stance of utter humility toward Diss... The longer he spent observing and understanding him, the more he could sense just how powerful Diss truly was. Which meant... Karen pictured the day he and Mina had stood by the third-floor windowsill: Diss had gone into the bedroom, changed his clothes, and walked out carrying a suitcase. That time, Diss hadn't gone to 128 Mink Street to look for Ms. Molly and Alfred. Then who had Diss really gone to see? Who had he fought? And just who had the ability to wound Diss? "Karen, come up for a moment," Aunt Mary called, waving down from the second floor. "Coming, Auntie." Karen walked up to the second floor, and then his aunt continued higher, leading him to the third floor. Generally, when family matters were discussed, it was around the dining room on the second floor; they rarely went up to the third, which housed Diss's study and bedroom. Normally, even Lunt, the most restless of the children, made a point of treading lightly whenever he was on the third floor. "We've been waiting for you," Uncle Mason said, standing by the open doorway to Grandfather's study. Karen walked in. Diss sat behind the desk, holding a teacup and sipping tea. Aunt Winnie stood to the side of the desk with a stack of documents in hand, while Uncle Mason and Aunt Mary flanked Karen. "Come take a look. This is what your uncle and the others have arranged," Diss said to Karen. "Alright." Karen stepped forward. Uncle Mason placed both hands on his shoulders. "Come, sit down and look through it at your own pace." "Oh, okay." Karen sat down. The first thing placed before him was a passbook showing a figure of 100,000 riel. The riel was the currency of Wien. It circulated not only within Wien itself and its colonies, but in the eyes of many foreign citizens, it held an even higher standing than their own national currencies. The exchange rate between riel and lubi was roughly 100 riel to 150 lubi. Because Ruilan was something of a client state to Wien, its finances were almost completely tied to Wien's. Though this cost the country most of its monetary sovereignty, the difference between official and black-market exchange rates between lubi and riel in Ruilan was minuscule. Consequently, this passbook from the National Bank of Wien held the equivalent of 150,000 lubi in deposits. "These are the loan agreements," Aunt Winnie said, sliding the papers underneath over for Karen to see. "We applied for a bank loan under the name of Inmeles Funeral Parlor, and all the paperwork has been processed. Once you arrive in Wien and choose the house you want, you can contact the local National Bank of Wien staff to finalize the mortgage. The maximum loan amount is up to 3,000,000 lubi. That means when you're house-hunting there, the purchase price and all the administrative fees combined shouldn't exceed 2,000,000 riel." Aunt Mary chimed in, "Yes, and the 100,000 riel in this passbook is pocket money for you to keep on hand. Don't factor it into the house, and definitely don't put it toward the purchase. It's an emergency fund for you. As for the loan, we'll handle the repayments from our end. Plus, your monthly share dividends from the family business will be deposited into this account every month. The only caveat is that the property deed will initially remain under the name of Inmeles Funeral Parlor. Only after we clear the mortgage can it be transferred into your name, Karen." Karen understood now. His aunt and uncle had been discussing buying him a house in Wien. In truth, Karen knew that after acquiring the cremation parlor and purchasing new hearses, among other major expenses, there couldn't be much left in the public accounts. His uncle, aunt, and Aunt Winnie had already poured a substantial amount of their personal savings into the family fund. Therefore, this 3,000,000 lubi loan had almost certainly been secured by mortgaging the funeral parlor... or perhaps even this very Inmerlais villa beneath their feet. "Thank you, Uncle, Aunt Mary, Aunt Winnie. But I really don't think I—" "Think of it as the family investing in property in Wien. Leaving it empty would just be a waste, so you stay there for now," Uncle Mason cut in. Diss set down his teacup at that moment and chimed in, "Mm. Let's leave it at that." With Grandfather speaking up, Karen stopped putting on airs of refusal. Just as he moved to stand and thank his elders, Uncle Mason pressed his hands down on his shoulders again. "We're family. No need to treat us like strangers." Aunt Mary also smiled. "Mina and Chris both have excellent grades. They'll likely test into universities in Wien later on, and they can stay there when the time comes. Having a place of our own is much more convenient than renting." "Alright, keep the passbook and contract documents safe." Aunt Winnie placed everything into a leather bag and handed it to Karen. "Thank you. I will." "Now that that's settled, you three go downstairs and rest. I have a few words for Karen," Diss said. His uncle and aunts left the study, pulling the door shut behind them. "I'm not worried in the slightest about your ability to adapt." "Please rest assured, Grandfather. Wherever I go, I'll make sure my life is full of sunshine," Karen said. "Very good." Diss offered a faint smile. "I never had much to say anyway, and that single word—'sunshine'—has said everything I prepared to advise you." "You can still say it, Grandfather. I'd love to hear it." "No need." "Grandfather, there's something..." Diss looked up, glancing at Karen, and asked, "What is it?" "Grandfather, that day we rode the hearse back from Mr. Hoffen's hospital, right in front of the house... was there something behind us?" True to Inmerlais tradition, never let a doubt survive the night. Diss's gaze narrowed slightly as he looked at Karen. "Was it someone from the Church of Order? People sent by the Temple of Order?" Karen guessed. Diss shook his head. "Not them." "Then..." "I don't wish to keep secrets from you, but in this case, I believe knowing will do you no good at all. You're better off not knowing. So this will be an exception: I don't intend to tell you. Although it's somewhat troublesome, I can handle it. That is my promise." "Troublesome?" Karen's fingers rubbed against the leather bag as he ventured further, "More troublesome than the Church of Order?" "In truth, neither the Church of Order nor the Temple of Order is troublesome," Diss said. "Comparatively speaking, your grandfather is the troublesome headache they're dealing with right now." "Then what about this 'it'?" "I still don't intend to tell you, but its trouble will end." "In... two days?" "Yes. In two days, all trouble will be brought to an end, and everything will be straightened out. When you go to Wien, you can stand on the deck of the cruise ship's business class with Miss Eunice, sipping wine while admiring the ocean view. I will not have my grandson embark on a journey in panic, looking like a refugee fleeing for his life." "Can you really... not tell me, Grandfather?" "That is the third time you have asked, and this is my third answer: I do not intend to tell you." "Understood, Grandfather." Karen picked up the leather bag and stood, preparing to head back to his bedroom. Diss spoke up: "Sit down." "Hm?" Karen sat back down. Diss produced a candle from beneath the desk; its holder was a black cubic block. Striking a match, Diss lit the candle. The flame burned a normal orange-yellow. "Sit right here and watch it. Once it has burned out, you may leave." "Alright, Grandfather." Though he had no idea why, since it was Diss's instruction, he would follow it. Diss stood up and walked out of the study. *Click.* The moment the door shut, Karen watched the orange-yellow candle flame turn blue. The atmosphere in the study suddenly grew... suffocatingly heavy. Gradually, Karen sensed what felt like two pairs of eyes watching and appraising him from some unknown corner of the room. Involuntarily swallowing hard, Karen straightened his back. Rather than glancing around, he kept his eyes fixed intently on the blue flame before him. ... After leaving the study, Diss walked straight down the stairs to the ground floor. In a corner, a large golden retriever was sleeping. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, the golden retriever opened its eyes, took a glance, and closed them again. Diss walked up to the dog and picked up its leash. The golden retriever scrambled to its feet and shook itself twice, seemingly confused and puzzled, but it instinctively didn't dare resist Diss. It allowed Diss to lead it out of the living room and out of the yard. The rain was still falling. Yet waiting by the gate stood an impeccably groomed man dressed in a wine-red suit. As Diss walked out, he held an umbrella over him. The umbrella was intentionally not overly large, just adequate—it covered Diss completely, but would inevitably leave half of his own shoulder soaked. By the curb was parked a limited-edition Santland. Escorting Diss beyond the courtyard gate, Alfred opened the car door. Once Diss was inside, he collapsed the umbrella and slid into the driver's seat. "Oak Cemetery in the East District." "Yes, Master." Alfred started the car. Before long, they arrived at Oak Cemetery. This cemetery had a cooperation agreement with the Inmerlais family; essentially, clients handled by the Inmerlais family who chose earth burials were laid to rest here. At the cemetery entrance, Alfred stepped out first, opened the umbrella, and opened the door for Diss. When Diss stepped out, Alfred offered him the umbrella. "Come inside with me," Diss said. "Is that appropriate, Master?" "In a few days, I'll need you to be able to tell him what you see and hear tonight." "Understood, Master." "Having you drive here tonight behind his back has already put you in an awkward position. And as his grandfather, having you do things behind his back doesn't actually make me very happy, even if it's done for my sake. However, tell him it was my orders; he will understand. As long as you don't make a habit of it, it won't affect your chances of ending up on a fresco someday." "..." Alfred was speechless. *Is my desire to get onto a fresco really that obvious?* Diss walked deeper into the cemetery, Alfred following with the umbrella held high. Eventually, Diss stopped before Mr. Hoffen's headstone. Alfred glanced at the marker in mild confusion. On a rainy night like this, was the Master feeling nostalgic for his late old friend? Diss waved a hand backward. Alfred understood, taking a few steps back under the umbrella. Now without the umbrella's shelter, the raindrops did not fall on Diss, but swerved around him. Then, black patterns spread out from beneath Diss's feet, sinking beneath Mr. Hoffen's tombstone in unison. "In the name of Order—I permit your Awakening!" Standing behind him, Alfred felt no surprise at this sight, only finding it rather amusing. When ordinary people missed a departed friend, all they could do was look at their old belongings and reminisce. But his Master could simply call his friend back up. From the earth beneath the headstone came the sound of cracking, followed by the soil shifting loose. The ground bulged upward until it fractured, the mud sliding down under the wash of rain. Mr. Hoffen's head emerged above the surface. Glancing around, his attention drawn particularly to the muck smeared across his face, he couldn't help grumbling: "Diss, couldn't you wake me up on a clear night?" Alfred dropped the umbrella and stepped forward on his own initiative, digging Mr. Hoffen out of the dirt. Mr. Hoffen began flexing and loosening his limbs. "Once you're dead, this body really doesn't move naturally anymore. So stiff, so awkward." Saying this, Mr. Hoffen felt his face. "Good heavens, just how many layers of wax did Mary smear on my face? Even the rain and mud can't wash it off!" Mr. Hoffen then looked down at his clothes. "Mason's a good boy. This suit must have cost quite a bit. When I was alive, I never could bring myself to buy something this expensive." Staggering a couple of steps forward, Mr. Hoffen stopped in front of Alfred and turned his back to him. "Hey, help me take the staples out of my head. I wondered why the corners of my mouth wouldn't shut when I spoke. Mary pinned the back of my scalp with staples to keep it tight." "Right away." Alfred helped remove the staples. Immediately, Mr. Hoffen's old face sagged downward. "I'm starting to regret taking them out. Turns out taut skin is wonderfully important for an old man—especially an old man who's already dead." Mr. Hoffen twisted his neck. "Though I suppose it hardly matters, since I'm dead anyway. Right now I still feel like me, but strictly speaking, I'm not me anymore. Just a version of me retaining most of my memories, mistaking himself for me." Having finished warming up from his Awakening, Mr. Hoffen finally turned to Diss, who stood in the rain without a drop touching him. "Oh, Diss, you really have no shame, do you!" Mr. Hoffen moved closer to Diss, and the rain ceased falling on him as well. "My spiritual consciousness won't last very long, will it?" Mr. Hoffen asked. "No. Though you were a believer in the Church of Truth, you always took the scholarly path, meaning the spirituality retained in your body wasn't substantial to begin with," Diss nodded. "Even with my empowerment, it will only last three days. After three days, your memory will begin to deteriorate, and you will gradually lose the ability to think. If we were to refine your corpse and apply a formation, we could delay that, but in the end, it's just sand slipping through your fingers." Just like the refined girl who had been laid out in the house recently; she had only retained the faintest residue of her memories. "That's too pathetic. I don't want that. Better to die clean. When you bury me next time, just cremate me." "Very well." "You know, Diss, when I died, I practically guessed you'd wake me back up. So when I was dying in that hospital room, I tried so hard to build up that tragic, mournful atmosphere, but the thought that you might wake me up later made it impossible to stay in character. Anyway, what's this about?" "Help me set up an array." "An array for what?" "A seal." "Sealing what? Don't you know ordinary sealing arrays?" "Sealing... an evil god." "You're finally going to make a move on Karen?!" Mr. Hoffen jumped. "How can you have the heart to lay a hand on him?" "Before you died, you kept urging me to kill him." "I'm dead now! Do I still need to care about world peace after dying? Once you're dead, you're free of moral burdens. It's so liberating! Besides, he called me Grandfather!" "It's not sealing Karen." "Not sealing Karen, yet you're sealing an evil god? Good grief, did evil gods become as common as cabbages by the roadside after I died?" "There is only one evil god." "Only one evil god?" "Karen is Karen, the evil god is the evil god. There is only one evil god." Hearing this, Mr. Hoffen's eyes went wide. "You mean Karen isn't an evil god, but that god descent ritual I helped you perform actually did usher down an evil god?!" "Yes." "Then why didn't you tell me before?!" Mr. Hoffen cried. "Because at the time, Karen hadn't made his choice yet. Now, he has chosen the path he wants to walk. That evil god is currently very weak. For reasons unknown, although he finished remodeling 'Karen's' body, he ultimately failed to enter it. Then, my grandson awakened, and he was locked outside. "He is almost undetectable. A newly descended evil god is naturally skilled at concealment, and a newly descended evil god without so much as a physical vessel is all the harder to discover. In fact, if he hadn't revealed resentment and hostility while watching Karen from the shadows a few times, even I might not have sensed his presence. "I attempted to deal with him. He is indeed weak, but the form of his existence is quite peculiar. I summoned soul fire with my hands, but he isn't purely a spiritual entity. While it injured him, it could not erase him. Therefore, I need your help now to deal with him once and for all—to settle him." "Settle?" Mr. Hoffen seized upon the word, because Diss had said "settle," not "erase." Diss nodded, his gaze shifting to Alfred, who stood there looking utterly thunderstruck. *So... so... so... the Great Existence really isn't an evil god!* *But—but—wait...* *That strange, miraculous tongue, that sacred hymn that made his soul tremble, and the triggering of that curse...* "Are you disappointed?" Diss asked Alfred. Alfred instantly shook his head, followed by an expression of excitement so intense it twisted his features almost ferociously. "No, no, no! Master, I am not disappointed in the least! I firmly believe that the Young Master is a Great Existence. Look, just as you said, even an evil god couldn't beat the Young Master in a contest! That only proves the Young Master is more powerful than an evil god!" Frescoes came in many varieties. A fresco of an ordinary deity versus a fresco of a great true god—though both were called frescoes, they were worlds apart! One had to realize that many of the surviving small churches with unbroken lineages worshipped deities that were merely fragments splintered from the Church of Light's ancient mythological narrative. To put it bluntly, a background figure standing in the corner of a Church of Light fresco was the "true god" worshipped by some minor religion! *Good heavens, good heavens, good heavens!* Alfred wished he could return to the broadcasting studio this very instant and sing at the top of his lungs to every radio listener across Rojia City tuned to his channel! "So, Diss, what is your intention in settling him?" Mr. Hoffen pressed. Diss replied: "Since he has decided he wants to walk that path and insists on going to see the world outside, as his family, all we can do is support him. His uncle and aunts gave him a sum of money and a house. As his grandfather, I can hardly show up empty-handed. "So, "I'll give him an evil god to keep by his side."