Past and Future

Early in the morning, the first beam of sunlight shone through the window onto his face, like a gentle hand brushing against his cheek to wake him. Karen opened his eyes to see Little Kanna touching his face with her hand. "Hungry?" Hearing him say that word, Little Kanna reflexively took two steps back. Clearly, the word still cast a lingering shadow over her. Seeing this, Karen said apologetically, "I'm sorry." "No, it's fine! I'm not afraid of that at all!" Little Kanna put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. She wanted to appear brave. With her personality, how could she allow herself to fear anything? Yet this feigned bravado did not last long. Perhaps because she was facing an elder she was close to, Little Kanna lowered her hands and pouted. All right, she was scared. Karen rubbed her head. Little Kanna had to wake up early every day to do her homework, whereas Karen, having stayed up late working, went to bed late and naturally woke up relatively late. Even so, Little Kanna insisted on having breakfast with him. That was why every time Karen woke up, he would ask if she was hungry, worried that sleeping in too late would leave her underfed. After all, she was still in the middle of growing. In truth, Little Kanna was far more worried that Karen would go hungry than she was about herself. She knew his hunger addiction did not stem from a lack of conventional food, yet she harbored a simple, innocent belief: if Karen ate three proper meals every day, the hunger addiction might not be triggered as easily. Pressing the bell on the nightstand, Karen went to wash up. When he stepped out of the lounge, Xili had just entered carrying breakfast. Glancing at the time, Karen saw it was already mid-morning. He merely peeled an egg for himself and drank some soy milk, pushing the rest of the breakfast before Little Kanna. "Are you only eating that much?" Little Kanna asked. "I'm going to the Guman family's place in a bit. I need to save room. Don't waste Xili's hard work—eat up." "Oh, okay." The pills Little Kanna took each day were more than enough to sustain her life and physical development, so human food was purely a snack to her. With her true physique, her regular appetite was easily equal to several dozen Philomenas. Comparing Philomena's appetite to a dragon's was a bit unfair, but being used as a point of comparison was proof enough of Philomena's remarkable capacity. Little Kanna broke the pill in half, gave it a twist, licked it, and dipped it into the soy milk. As she ate, she mumbled through a mouthful of food, "Does it count as official business?" Accompanying Karen on official business meant she could get part of her homework excused for the day. "It counts." "Great!" Little Kanna was delighted. Purr was very invested in the little bone dragon's education. Whenever she was away, she made sure to draft a study schedule and homework assignments for Little Kanna in advance. Originally, Karen had agreed to Alfred's suggestion to have Count Rekal lead a team into that frontier space to retrieve the divine artifact, the Blade of Sighs, for him. When Purr learned of this, she had murmured sleep talk into his ear that night in bed: "Finding a divine artifact is the supreme dream quest of every explorer, meow." She knew Karen was not asleep, and Karen knew she was not talking in her sleep. Still, she was too skilled at this. No one could resist such roundabout, coquettish hints. In the end, Karen had to say it himself: "Why don't you go as well?" She had even put on an act of hesitation, claiming that Little Kanna's studies could not do without her, that the landscaping at Allen Manor could not do without her, and that there were simply too many chores at home for her to pull herself away. She turned it down, only to resume her sleep talk the next night. There were some people whose intentions you saw through without feeling any annoyance. Karen could only order her to go again, and she had "reluctantly" agreed, even taking one of the household dogs along with her. It had been ten days since Count Rekal's treasure-hunting expedition departed, and their work was proceeding in an orderly fashion. Serving as their guide and providing logistical support was Andrew's father. After Karen chose not to cripple Andrew and instead merely hung him up by the hotel entrance as punishment, that disabled veteran of the frontier space had gone out of his way to express his gratitude to Karen. Now, that reckless young punk had become a battalion commander of an operational battalion under the Disciplinary Department. His promotion had been swift—not because of any special favor from Karen, but because he had earned it by volunteering for suicide squads several times. Karen sipped his soy milk while flipping through the documents on the desk. Piro had replied, guaranteeing that he would help Karen secure permission to tour the First Knight Order alongside them. That guarantee was trustworthy, for even if Karen applied on his own, the higher-ups had no reason to refuse him. Vic had already settled the arrangements with the containment space and finalized a date for the visit. That matter had gone very smoothly. Karen was now the director of the Whip of Order's Disciplinary Department, and Vic was his primary secretary. Vic's resurgence had made several senior figures within the church realize that the wave of criticism against the former High Priest, Rasma, had come to an end. And indeed it had. As the current High Priest gradually consolidated power from top to bottom and took firm hold of the Holy See's real authority, old power-struggle tactics could be set aside, including the campaign labeling Rasma as an "old conservative." Karen had long noticed that the relationship between Rasma and the current High Priest was not truly antagonistic; there might even be a tacit understanding between them unknown to outsiders. In any case, Vic's status as a former student of the previous High Priest was becoming increasingly advantageous. Finally, there was the matter of Mr. Rottini. Alfred had completed surveillance on all personnel involved in the plan; a single order from Karen was all that was needed to reel in the net. Yet Karen was in no hurry to spring the trap. First, there was still some time before the opposition's scheme would truly launch; they likely wanted to wait until Rottini became the prime minister of Wien before setting things in motion. Second, the real big fish behind the scenes had yet to surface. Whoever was orchestrating and driving this plot had to be an extraordinary figure. That person's rank was likely on par with his own, or perhaps even higher. It was not that Karen feared the mastermind behind the curtain. Rather, if he had to offend them anyway, it was far better to wait until their identity was exposed, then humiliate them thoroughly—or simply launch a targeted retaliation against them and their faction. As the second-in-command of the Whip of Order, he needed to leave behind some high-profile achievements. Without toppling a truly big fish, his claim to the position would feel unjustified. Little Kanna finished her pills and proceeded to clear every last scrap of breakfast. Then she began to look drowsy again. Karen found this slightly odd. Given Little Kanna's growth rate and how accustomed her body had become to them, she should not have been falling asleep after taking her pills as she had in the beginning. It seemed he would need to send an official inquiry to the researchers to check whether something was wrong with the formula. By ten-thirty, Karen stood up. Little Kanna jerked awake and asked at once, "Are we heading to the Guman family's place now?" "Rest for a little while. I'm going to take a look around the adjacent building." "Oh, okay." Little Kanna returned to her little study desk, folded her arms on top of it, buried her head, and went to sleep. Stepping out of the office and into the corridor, Philomena emerged from her own office upon hearing the door open. She lived a leisurely life these days. As long as Karen did not leave his office, she only needed to rest in hers, munching through bucket after bucket of snacks. The snacks were made by Grandma for Richard, though the tsundere grandmother would never admit she was feeding the girl from the Fletcher family. Yet she seemed to forget that Richard's appetite could never be measured in buckets. Karen noticed that Philomena was glistening with sweat. Her office also had an internal space; though it lacked the refined scenery of Karen's, it was spacious enough for her to cultivate. "Go take a shower and change your clothes. We're going to the Guman family's place in a bit." "All right." Philomena did not refuse and went back into her office to shower. Vic walked over just then, the dark circles under his eyes darker than ever. Having a superior like Karen who was willing to delegate power was truly a bittersweet blessing. "Get more rest." Karen offered the empty platitude. Vic replied, "Thank you for your concern, Director. I will." "Good." Karen really did not dare let Vic drop dead of exhaustion. If that happened, he would owe Rasma yet another debt. Vic smiled. "If I were to die and be awakened by you, it feels like I wouldn't get exhausted so easily." "Heh." If that happened, the debt would only grow larger. Accompanied by Vic, Karen inspected the work in the neighboring interrogation castle. Calling that place a living hell was no exaggeration. No one should expect human rights within a theocratic system. If one were to follow doctrine to the letter, these corrupted priests were essentially apostates, and the church's punishment for apostates had never known an upper limit. Once the desert war entered a stalemate, the internal purge began. Vic personally presided over it, overseeing arrests, interrogations, and implicating associates without mercy. The original prison castle could no longer hold everyone, so the castle temporarily used for recreation had been converted into a prison as well. Every form of torture, both imaginable and unimaginable, was used here. As long as tangible evidence existed, no one ever managed to keep their mouth shut. Many priests in the Disciplinary Department had just returned from the front lines, and many were originally Whip of Order personnel from the frontier spaces. Cruelty ran in their blood; they took to these interrogation methods with great enthusiasm, even relishing them. After completing the inspection and walking out of the castle, seeing the singing birds and fragrant flowers outside genuinely made one feel as though they had returned to the mortal realm. "You've probably received quite a few letters pleading for mercy or making threats, haven't you?" Vic answered, "Pleading, yes, but none threatening. Your current prestige, Director, is far greater than you imagine." "Keep at it." "We're already speeding up the pace. Cases are being sent to the Order Tribunal in batches, but there is still a long queue waiting." "Heh." "Do you have any instructions, Director?" "Your methods can be a bit more aggressive," Karen said. "Uh..." Vic already considered himself very aggressive. Karen tapped his own forehead with a finger and said to Vic, "Break convention a bit more." "But if we do that, what about the future...?" "We won't need to worry about what comes after." "Understood, Director!" Vic's spirits lifted at once. He had misunderstood Karen's meaning, assuming that by following Karen, everything within the church would be suppressed once Karen rose to an utterly transcendent position, leaving no reason to fear any future retaliation. Karen's meaning, however, was very simple: the return of the gods was right before their eyes, and Vic's teacher would return even sooner. What point was there in worrying about whether the future would be pleasant when they did not even know if there would be a future at all? The carriage had already been prepared and pulled up before Karen. Little Kanna and Philomena were already seated inside. As Karen got in, he spotted Richard sprinting over outside the window. Richard was not skipping work. Today was actually an official rest day for the Church of Order; everyone was simply doing unspoken overtime, so Richard was technically on legitimate leave. Accompanying the carriage was an operational battalion commanded by Andrew, comprising five Whip of Order squads. All of them were elites tasked with Karen's security. Unless he slipped out quietly in plain clothes, this was the absolute minimum escort required for a formal outing. Karen could not dismiss them even if he wanted to. At his current standing, he could hardly go around fighting personally; even if he did not mind, the Whip of Order still demanded that dignity. The carriage arrived outside the Guman residence. The familiar car was parked in front. After stepping down from the carriage, Karen glanced toward the flowerbed down the slope and discovered his uncle-in-law, Dake, squatting there smoking a cigarette once again. The difference was that where he had once looked melancholy and helpless, the corners of Dake's mouth were now curled upward, and even the smoke rings he blew drifted straight toward the sky. Hearing the sound behind him, Dake looked back, immediately stood up, and straightened his back. "Corps Commander!" Realizing his slip of the tongue, he hastily corrected himself. "Director!" Inquisitor Dake... no, Adjudicator Dake now. There had been a reason he had fared poorly in the past; everyone else took pride in calling Karen "Corps Commander," yet he went out of his way to correct himself. Karen had originally thought about heading down to share a cigarette with him and reminisce about old times, but seeing how tense he was, he decided against it. Andrew led the security personnel in establishing a perimeter around the area. Elder Delon, dressed in a red bishop's clerical robe, led the entire family at the courtyard gate to welcome Karen, with a crowd of priests standing behind them. Karen had originally planned on coming quietly for a simple meal—just a family gathering. Grandma, however, had refused, saying she had invited Delon's students and fellow bishops to the house as guests. Delon had been too embarrassed to make such a request, but Grandma did not care. She might scold and mock her husband in private, but in public, she was very attentive to preserving his pride. Above all, she understood just how desperately her husband longed to show off. The old man's face was flushed with joy, as though he had smoothed on a layer of olive oil before stepping out. As Karen approached, he offered a salute in an exceptionally booming voice: "Greetings, Director!" The family members behind him and the district priests who had been invited all bowed together. Karen had an excellent memory. Leaving aside Delon's peers—the bishops—even Delon's senior students, who were now directors and deputy directors of the Regional Administrative Office, had their names and titles firmly lodged in his mind. Even so, Karen took the initiative to ask Delon to introduce each of them to him. After a round of polite pleasantries, the crowd moved inside. Karen sat on the sofa in the living room, with Delon and several bishops keeping him company while the others were left standing. To pass the time, Karen could only inquire about the work and difficulties facing each department. As a prominent figure in the Whip of Order system, doing so was technically overstepping his authority, but in the Yorktown Region, no one found anything amiss with it. In the dining room, Grandma tapped a spoon against a plate, signaling that the meal was about to be served. The guests took their leave in tacit unison. No one felt slighted because they were not invited to stay for lunch; being invited over to interact and converse directly with Karen was the greatest satisfaction possible. Just as when Karen had sought to share lunch with the Whip-Wielder back then, what was actually served did not matter in the slightest. Once only the Guman family remained, the atmosphere eased considerably. Mr. Aisen finally sat down, sipping his tea. He tugged at Dake's trouser leg, but though he nearly pulled his brother-in-law's pants down, Dake still did not dare take a seat. "I'll go check the kitchen." Delon walked into the kitchen, shut the door, deliberately set up an isolation array, and then burst into hearty laughter: "Hahaha! Hahaha!" Grandma initially looked at her husband as though he were an idiot, but after a moment, she began laughing along with him. Several days ago, after she informed him that she would invite his colleagues and students to the house to meet Karen, Madam Tangli had watched her husband wriggle in bed like an overly excited maggot for several nights in a row. Once he finished laughing, Delon repeatedly said to Tangli, "My grandson! My grandson! My grandson!" Madam Tangli rolled her eyes at him and said, "Thank you for telling me such a monumental secret." The family banquet began. Mr. Aisen, who used to find dining at the table excruciatingly agonizing, now had a hearty appetite and ate with complete ease. Instead, it was his wife, his sister, and his brother-in-law who had become the "new Aisens." Sharing a table with Karen left them exceedingly ill at ease. They had once been so familiar, but after internalizing the military hierarchy during their time in the corps, adjusting back proved difficult for now. The others finished eating and laid down their cutlery, leaving only Richard and Philomena still devouring food. "I'll go upstairs to rest for a bit." Karen excused himself from the table, went upstairs to Richard's room, and lay down on Richard's bed for a while. Philomena soon came up, resuming her duty of personal security. "Had enough to eat?" "Mm." Philomena nodded. "Go wash the dishes." "Yes." Philomena went downstairs. To ensure she had enough to eat, Grandma had prepared three full spreads of dishes. The kitchen sink had to be piled high with plates and bowls by now; patting her stomach and heading upstairs the moment she finished eating was hardly appropriate. After lying down for a little while longer, Karen prepared to leave. Coming downstairs, he saw Grandma and Philomena standing by the sink in the kitchen—Grandma was washing the dishes while Philomena stood beside her, watching. Grandma: "Step aside, don't get in the way of my dishwashing." Philomena: "I came on Karen's orders." Grandma: "Karen sent you to be an overseer?" "To wash dishes." "You've already broken three plates!" "It's because the plates are too brittle." "Bah!" In the dining room, Richard and Delon each held a mop. Richard was diligently mopping the floor, while Delon stood there gazing at the kitchen, his eyes full of the shadows of his own youth. Richard's mother, Cathy, held a cup of freshly brewed coffee by the dining table, staring blankly at the kitchen. In her eyes: There was her own past, as well as her own future.