The cargo ship docked at the Port of York. It was a massive seaport. Once the cargo ramps were laid down, heavy machinery began hauling and hoisting large crates, though most of the work still had to be borne by manual labor.
Looking down from the deck, one could see a dense swarm of laborers. Most of them had purple or grey hair and did not belong to the Maclay ethnicity; they were illegal immigrants smuggled from other continents. Yet when they worked in places like this port, the Wien Immigration Bureau simply turned a blind eye to their existence.
Among the able-bodied adults, many child laborers wove through the crowd. Most were skinny, their faces stamped with malnutrition.
Child laborers certainly could not match the strength and output of adult men, but they were cheaper. Capitalists chose child labor not out of charity, but because careful accounting proved it was truly cost-effective.
It was a scene of stark layers and sharp contrasts.
Look up, and you saw a bustling, clamorous harbor with towering skyscrapers rising in the distance, exuding the feel of a modern metropolis.
Look down, focusing only on the ground beneath your feet, and you seemed to glimpse the raw human world—jarringly out of place, yet undeniably real.
The passengers disembarked from a separate deck.
Purr still perched on Karen's shoulder, and the golden retriever remained on Karen's leash. Beyond the gangway lay an open clearing where several cars were parked, flanked by a group of bodyguards standing ramrod-straight in suits.
At their head, serving as the welcoming representative, was a middle-aged man in a wheelchair.
Before disembarking, Madam Jenny had already informed everyone that the person greeting them at the port would be Mr. Mike, the second older brother of Eunice's father. She had also noted that Mr. Mike had lost both his legs in an accident and was confined to a wheelchair.
Thus, Eunice's father had been truly fortunate to secure the position of family head.
As the third son, the role would never have fallen to him under normal circumstances. That was why he had initially been permitted to marry Jenny, the daughter of an ordinary family from Rojia City. But as fate would have it, the eldest brother chose love, and the second brother chose disability.
In the end, the seat of the family head had no choice but to go to him.
Purr's verdict on the matter had been: *Jenny really was born with the fate of bringing fortune to her husband.*
However, the moment Purr spotted Mike sitting in his wheelchair from afar, she leaned close to Karen's neck, giggling as she whispered, "I can't take it anymore... another idiot."
"Hmm?"
"He bears traces of interwoven water and fire elements. He must have tried to fuse them and blown off part of his own body."
"Shouldn't that sort of effort be respected?"
"Actually, people in my family were already attempting that back in my day. But they always used branch-family descendants as test subjects. Everyone's cognitive system of faith is different, and the extent to which their faith system reshapes the body varies accordingly.
"Usually, they would use branch descendants as guinea pigs, conditioning their bodies and faith systems as much as possible to match or approximate their own before attempting fusion.
"Once they gained experience from success or failure, they could apply it more safely to themselves. That kept risks to an absolute minimum. At the very least, it prevented extreme cases where two opposing elements clashed inside one's own body and blew it apart.
"For him to end up like this, he obviously experimented directly on himself.
"What an idiot."
"Does refusing to use your own kin as guinea pigs make someone an idiot?" Karen asked.
"Doesn't it?" Purr countered. "A family's prosperity demands sacrifice. Looking at Wood, the eldest, and now Mike, the second...
"*Sigh,*
"Now I understand why the Allen family has sunk to such a state."
"All right, then."
"Actually, Karen, you know it in your heart. Not every family has a Diss who can single-handedly shield the entire household, keeping it warm and harmonious while granting the younger generation the freedom to choose their own path.
"For an ordinary family, failing to be ruthless to outsiders is a secondary flaw. Failing to be ruthless to oneself is what makes decline all but inevitable.
"This isn't just about a family business going bankrupt. In this circle, declining means the starving wolves circling around you will swarm in and pick your bones clean.
"The Raphael family is the prime example. Once mere servants, had Diss not intervened, they might have swallowed the Allen family whole in another few years or within a generation.
"When that time came, members of the Allen family would have been reduced to breeding tools, existing solely to enrich the Raphaels' own bloodline and faith system.
"It's just like how the major churches crave the faith systems of others."
"I understand."
"Still, I'm starting to look forward to this," Purr said, her tone suddenly shifting from disappointment to gleeful anticipation. "It would be best if Mike is truly as stupid as Wood, the eldest.
"Just imagine: a pack of fools standing there staring at you with wide, pleading eyes. Karen, would you really have the heart to wave your sleeve and leave without taking a single wisp of cloud?"
"Aren't you supposed to be an elder of the family?"
"This *is* the mindset of an elder! When the family's own descendants are useless, of course I have to do everything I can to bring in powerful outside reinforcements."
"Me? Powerful outside reinforcement?"
"All you lack is time.
"A mysterious soul descended through a beyond-standard god descent ritual,
"The bearer of an evil god's body,
"The sole bloodline heir of the Inmerlais family.
"Karen,
"Any single one of those titles would be enough to declare your boundless potential, let alone all three combined.
"In fact,
"Even if you did nothing at all and simply focused on siring children with Eunice or Camila, you would still be a priceless treasure."
"All right, you can shut up now."
"I'm going to keep saying it."
"Then I'll have Alfred go to the York City pet market and buy you a swarm of male Garfields, British Shorthairs, and orange tabbies so you can set an example for me first."
"..." Purr fell silent.
Mike wheeled himself forward, greeting Madam Jenny and Eunice first before rolling up to Karen and offering his hand.
"Welcome, Young Master Karen."
"Thank you for coming to meet us."
"It is my duty."
After brief pleasantries, everyone boarded the vehicles.
Karen rode in an elongated black Conbin. The interior was spacious enough to enjoy red wine comfortably.
Eunice sat beside Karen, while Mr. Mike and Madam Jenny sat across from them.
Alfred rode in another car with the cat and dog.
Mr. Mike was a man of few words. The formal greetings from earlier seemed to have exhausted his entire vocabulary for the day. Once inside, he instructed the attendant to pour wine and simply sat there sipping his glass in silence.
Yet this did not stem from any deliberate slight against his guests; it was merely his nature—somewhat introverted and awkward in conversation.
The motorcade drove into downtown York City, sailing straight through every red light along the way. Traffic police officers stood along the streets, completely unbothered.
Passing another red light, Madam Jenny said with a smile, "The cars our family uses to receive guests bear Wien royal license plates."
"Ah, I see." Karen took a sip from his glass.
However, while traffic lights could not stop the motorcade, a crowd of demonstrators brought it to a halt at an upcoming intersection. Holding protest signs aloft, they marched forward, chanting slogans.
Madam Jenny smiled and explained, "Protests are common in Wien, almost a routine part of civic life. After all, there are always people with full bellies who need something to burn off their dinner."
Something seemed to occur to Mike, and he spoke up: "Not long ago, I heard that young environmental activist Delice held a lecture. Onstage, she launched into a tirade against several corporations and distinguished guests for their luxurious and un-environmental lifestyles. Those companies happened to be her sponsors, and those guests had come in person to support her event. The whole scene ended up turning utterly hideous."
*Delice?*
Karen remembered that Delice had survived that night, though the influence of the forbidden curse seemed to have made her... even more pure in her convictions.
Judging by Mike's account, she truly had become an environmentalist maiden now.
The parade crossed the street, and the motorcade resumed its pace.
Karen rolled down the window and caught the slogans drifting from the marching crowd:
"Glory to vegetarianism, barbarity to meat!"
Amid the procession was a colossal banner reading: *One less bite of meat won't kill you!*
"It seems today's theme is vegetarianism," Madam Jenny remarked.
Karen could not help recalling the malnourished child laborers he had seen at the harbor. Truly, the joys and sorrows of humanity were never shared.
Rolling up the window, Karen chuckled. "What kind-hearted people."
Hearing this, Mike asked, "Is that truly what you think, Young Master Karen?"
Karen caught the flicker of disdain in Mike's eyes as he asked. The man really was terrible at hiding his thoughts.
He was much like Wood. Wood had initially assumed Karen came from a church family and naturally expected him to look down his nose at everyone, while Mr. Mike likely took him for someone brimming with bleeding-heart sympathy.
"They are indeed kind-hearted people," Karen replied. "It's just that they don't consider most of the people they can't see or touch to be human at all."
Mike stuck out his tongue, downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, and said, "I quite like that remark of yours, Young Master Karen."
Karen offered him a faint smile.
The motorcade cleared York City and headed deeper into the countryside. After passing through a dense forest, it rolled into the manor around one in the afternoon.
It was a vast estate.
Karen saw a new castle within the grounds, an older castle further away, and an auditorium that looked somewhat dilapidated.
A red carpet stretched directly from the car doors up the flight of stairs. Footmen stood on one side, maidservants on the other.
At the top of the stairs, an impeccably dressed middle-aged man walked down toward Karen. Higher up on the landing stood a white-haired elder leaning on a cane.
The middle-aged man was Eunice's father, Madam Jenny's husband, and the current head of the Allen family—Bede Allen.
As Bede approached, he exchanged brief glances with his wife and daughter before turning directly to Karen, speaking with great deference: "The Allen family welcomes your arrival."
The servants flanking both sides bowed in unison to Karen.
"Thank you for such a warm reception."
"Please, come with me. I have already prepared the most delectable dishes and the finest wines for you."
Mr. Bede led Karen along the red carpet. As they ascended the stairs, the elder on the landing planted his cane forward and bowed to Karen.
"Your arrival is a gift of fate to the Allen family."
Bede introduced him: "This is my father."
The former family head, Anderson.
"Your warm hospitality leaves me deeply touched," Karen replied.
Behind them walked Alfred, with Purr perched on his shoulder and the golden retriever on his leash.
Purr's gaze had been fixed on the dilapidated auditorium. Her family had built it for her back in the day; now, most of its outer walls were overgrown with creepers, showing distinct signs of neglect.
Then Purr shifted her gaze to Bede.
*Hmm, not bad. His posture is very humble, and he's the most handsome of the three brothers. No wonder he could father a daughter as pretty as Eunice.*
*Still, why does this Bede have a scent similar to that radio goblin?*
Purr naturally did not think her grand-nephew was an aberrant demon—it would actually be less surprising if he were. Rather, she sensed an aura about him strikingly similar to Alfred's... greasy and theatrical!
Alfred whispered at that moment, "I'd bet anything this family head is an artist as well."
Alfred always considered himself an artist. His talents extended far beyond hosting radio shows; he was proficient in all sorts of musical instruments. Had the environment permitted it aboard the passenger ship, his piano melodies would have captured the hearts of countless young ladies, madams, and gentlemen alike.
Purr recalled Eunice mentioning, while introducing her father to Karen, that he was very fond of painting...
Purr's cat eyes widened once more as she stared at Bede.
*So the current head of the Allen family really is a painter?*
Alfred caught up to Karen, and Purr overheard Karen speaking with Old Patriarch Anderson:
"Diss and I knew each other in our youth. I visited Rojia City several times back then."
"Yes, Grandfather often spoke of you to me. It's just a pity that he is now in deep slumber, with little chance of waking."
*Oh heavens, you brat!*
Purr wished she could pounce onto Karen's head and claw his hair into a bird's nest!
"Fate in this world is always strange, rising and falling like the tide. Yet I believe the Inmerlais family will shine with its glorious light once more."
"Because of the blood sacrifice ritual, the Inmerlais family and our descendants can no longer enter the church. Grandfather's greatest wish was simply for our family to live peacefully and happily, without being drawn back into those dangerous whirlpools."
*Aaargh! I'm going to claw his face to shreds and ruin his looks!*
Alfred reached up and gently restrained the thrashing Purr.
Both Anderson and Bede noticed the remarkably expressive cat. A flicker of puzzlement crossed Bede's eyes; he found the black cat strangely familiar.
Anderson asked, "Karen, is this your pet?"
"Yes. My apologies, she has been a bit irritable lately because she's in heat."
"..." Purr froze.
"Let us go inside. I'm sure you must be hungry. Heh, when visiting a friend's house, the most important thing is never to let their child go hungry."
Anderson patted Karen's arm warmly, showing great affection.
Karen cooperatively supported the old man, stepping in to serve as his cane.
Bede turned to his wife and daughter. "Go change your clothes first, then join us for the meal. Be quick; we mustn't keep our guest waiting."
Then Bede turned his gaze upon Alfred, who, in his eyes, was the sole footman Karen had brought. Bede's lips quivered faintly.
People who shared the same refined taste and pursuit in life, art, and existence could always recognize one another instantly, regardless of identity or station.
"Greetings, Mr. Bede. You may call me Alfred."
"Greetings, Alfred. Please, join us for the meal as well. I am certain you are far more than a mere footman."
"No, serving the young master is the pursuit of my life."
"Oh, an ordinary footman would never possess such profound devotion."
Purr rolled her eyes at Bede. *Your prospective son-in-law has already gone inside, and you're out here making eyes at his servant?*
*Fool! Moron!*
Throughout this journey home, the words Purr used most often to describe her descendants were "fool" and "moron," because they never ceased providing profound demonstrations of both.
***
"My apologies, Mr. Karen. I must go take my medicine first. Please head into the dining hall; I will join you shortly."
"Of course. Your health comes first."
Old Anderson was assisted upstairs by a maid.
Karen, guided by several other maids, stepped into the dining hall.
The room was vast and lavishly furnished.
After all, no matter how far the Allen family had fallen, the decline was so far limited to their standing and power; they had not yet reached the point of selling off their family heirlooms and estates.
"Please, this is your seat."
Before a long banquet table, a maid directed Karen to sit.
It was the guest seat, facing away from the dining hall doors, while the host's seat usually faced the entrance.
Karen took his seat.
"Would you like some soup or wine to start?"
"No, thank you."
"Understood."
Karen sat upright, maintaining proper posture.
Across two lifetimes, this was the first time he had ever attended an occasion like this. It was nothing like the large dining table of the Inmerlais household, where everyone ate harmoniously without restraint. The setting before him was something he had only ever seen in British period dramas in his past life.
Just then, Karen noticed a small bell resting on the table before him.
It reminded him of the bell he had installed by the kitchen entrance on the second floor of the Inmerlais house. Whenever he rang it, the family would immediately gather in the second-floor dining room, waiting for the meal to be served.
*I wonder how Uncle, Aunt, and the others are doing...*
A wave of homesickness crept unbidden into Karen's heart. Subconsciously, he reached out and gave the silver bell a light flick.
*Ding-a-ling...*
A crisp chime rang out.
Immediately following it, candles flared to life all around the grand dining hall. Portraits of past heads of the Allen family—previously obscure—suddenly stood out in sharp, vivid detail. The entire hall instantly became solemn and imposing.
At the same time, the row of display shelves holding various ornaments and memorabilia directly across from Karen slid smoothly apart to either side, revealing a massive set of double doors behind them.
The members of the Allen family, dressed in exceptionally formal attire, were standing outside in neat rows.
Old Anderson led the way on his cane.
Behind him followed the current family head, Mr. Bede, and behind Bede came Mike in his wheelchair—though a fresh red cane mark now stood out on Mike's face.
Beside them were Madam Jenny and Eunice, and further back were several younger faces, likely Eunice's two older brothers and Mr. Mike's children.
They marched inside in single file and took their positions around the table. Every face was grave, without the slightest hint of levity.
Old Mr. Anderson spoke in a resonant voice: "Honored Young Master Karen, the Allen family answers your summons!"
Karen was caught completely off guard.
He looked down at his hands resting on the table,
Then down at the chair beneath him,
Only then realizing that the seat he occupied was, in fact, the head of the table.
At the very back of the procession, Alfred looked at the rows of people standing before him, his brow furrowing deeply.
In the corner by the doorway, Purr sat atop the golden retriever's back, wiping away cat tears with her paws.
"*Sniff, sniff...* Whoever dares call you idiots in the future, I'll scratch them to death!"
Chapter 83