Creating a God!

A black cat rode on the back of a golden retriever, watching the performance hall under construction before them. Workers bustled in and out, constantly hauling in materials and cement dust. Mr. Bede stood there, personally overseeing the work. Not far away, three water tankers were parked. "So why does it have to be like this?!" Purr muttered as she grabbed the golden retriever's ears like a pair of reins and pulled back. The golden retriever immediately turned around and carried the black cat back into the house, heading straight up to the third floor, nudging the study door open, and stepping inside. Karen was sitting behind the desk reading through papers, while Boge stood in front of it. What Karen was reviewing was not the state of the Allen family's businesses. In fact, in the early hours of that morning, after reading through all of the Allen family's financial reports, his response had been to keep everything running as usual. He had no understanding of business management, so he couldn't very well change anything; nor did he possess the power to turn stone into gold. Most importantly, the Allen family did not lack money. What they lacked was the hard strength to protect themselves. The dossier before him had just been brought by Boge. Part of it was written documentation: Boge had sought out several elders from the branch families to inquire about the details of the previous patriarch's burial rites, and had then gone to the family archives to look through relevant materials and locate photographs from the funeral. In the photographs, one could clearly see that when the previous patriarch had been laid to rest, his body had been treated. This matched the branch elders' accounts. Furthermore, the choice of coffin and the design of the burial chamber had been extraordinarily meticulous. The patriarchs' tombs in the Allen family were not overly lavish, and their spaces were not large—after all, they had to be buried near the main castle, so building an underground palace was impossible—yet the materials used were exceptionally refined. A good coffin and a good tomb chamber ensured that the body inside would be preserved to the greatest extent possible. "Kept fresh" might be an exaggeration, but opening the coffin certainly wouldn't reveal a puddle of rotten bones. The bare minimum had to be that upon opening the coffin, what lay inside was a complete, intact, visibly human... mummy. Yet even that might not be accurate. The Allen family, after all, was no ordinary family. His own experience working at the funeral parlor might not apply here, and who could say whether the Allen family had set up magic formations inside the tomb? After all, Diss had said that when registered clergy of the orthodox churches died, the church dispatched specialists to retrieve their bodies, for their corpses were themselves a kind of material. In that case, were the bodies of practitioners of family faith systems just as precious? Even setting aside respect for the departed, treating and guarding the ancestors' remains as a form of wealth was entirely reasonable. However, there was another problem: the Allen family did not belong to the Church of Order, and the family was itself a grassroots supplier of materials to the churches, so their need to use ancestral remains as materials should not be very high. Karen tapped his forehead gently with his fountain pen. What a pity that such a question could not easily be asked of Purr, nor of Mr. Anderson. First, Karen was not certain whether he could successfully awaken a being of that caliber; second, this was, after all, a matter of digging up someone's ancestral graves. You could try doing it in secret, but before achieving results, you shouldn't speak of it openly. "Woof!" Purr had been inside for a while, and seeing that Karen hadn't noticed her, she tugged the golden retriever's ear to make him bark. Karen looked up, glanced at Purr, and waved his hand to signal that Boge could leave. Boge bowed and took his leave. As he passed Purr, his gaze instinctively drifted toward the portrait of the black cat hanging in the study. After stepping out, Boge closed the door, shutting out all sound from outside. Hands clasped in front of him, back straight, Boge assumed his post. Yet doubt stirred in his mind: *The pet cat the young master brought with him... looks an awful lot like the black cat our ancestor turned into in that portrait, doesn't it?* Boge immediately shook his head. *What on earth am I imagining!* *** "Why is the performance hall being renovated?!" With no outsiders around, Purr demanded outright. "Old Anderson told me there isn't a swimming pool on the estate," Karen replied. "To meet the deadline, converting the performance hall was the easiest way to make a small reservoir." "But that's my youth! My memories!" Purr protested indignantly. "It's a monument of great significance that I left behind for future generations of the family!" "Then I'll call Old Anderson over right now and have him halt construction and restore the hall to how it was—or perhaps renovate it further?" Purr didn't agree right away, instead saying, "Next time something like this happens, could you consult me in advance and let me give the nod of approval?" "Next time, it'll probably be taking your portrait down from this study." "How cruel!" "Old Anderson seems to have always minded having a cat hanging among the ancestor portraits in the study." "I knew it! That old bastard... no, that little brat is just too wicked!" "The conversion of the performance hall will be finished today," Karen said. "Next, the water tankers returning from various places will pump the holy water inside. Barring any accidents, preparations will be complete in three days." "Meow meow, they really are eager," Purr purred with laughter, letting out cat sounds. "What I meant was: are you ready for the purification ritual?" "I'm ready." "No other extra preparations?" "Yes. Tell them to bring food and drink at mealtimes, and have the radio goblin... oh no, have the dumb dog bring it in." "Him?" Karen looked at Kevin, who was being ridden like a pony beneath Purr. Purr grabbed both of the retriever's ears and yanked back. The dog, in pain, reared up on his hind legs like a warhorse rearing its hooves. "He's an evil god, you know—Lord Evil God!" "Does that have anything to do with it?" Karen asked. "Of course it does." Purr released her claws, and the retriever began pacing back and forth across the rug in front of the desk with Purr on his back. "I told you before: purification is cleaning the house." "Mm." "It's like... before going out to sell yourself, you'd better take a bath, scrub yourself clean, stand by the door, wave your hand, and say, 'Master, come inside and have some fun!' If you're filthy all over, would you want to come in if you were a customer?" "I understand what you mean, but could you use a more normal metaphor?" "Oh, fine. In churches, the one who guides newcomers into the fold is called a Guide, and a sacred relic is an auxiliary aid. Low-grade purification is just washing your body clean and getting ready. High-grade purification means God has already noticed clean, fair, tender little you—He has seen you! And since He has seen you, wouldn't He be willing to walk up to your doorstep and talk to you next? Oh, that is God's Revelation. And while He talks to you, taking in your smooth skin and the fragrant scent of soap, wouldn't He naturally want to step into your house and take a seat? That is God's Shepherd. Therefore, a good purification can directly pave the way for the next two stages! It saves you the time of ascetic cultivation, without any shoddy results from rushing. During the purification process, the Guide and the sacred relic serve a guiding function. But you can also think of it like this: the Guide is the experienced madam standing at your door, while the sacred relic is the pastry displayed in your shopfront. The better the relic, the more it's like everyone else is putting out moldy pastries while you have freshly baked mousse cake on display. God will naturally notice you much more easily." Karen picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said, "If that description ever leaked outside, you would definitely be hunted down by countless churches." "Hahahahaha-meow..." Purr laughed until her cat body shook. "Explaining it simply like this helps you understand better so you'll be more willing to cooperate with our next steps. Because, Karen, you don't believe in God at all. Neither does Diss. All I'm doing is expanding and elaborating on Diss's theory that the God of Order was raised by a whore. A useful supplement." "Is your sacred relic—oh no, are you—enough to draw attention?" Karen asked. "Trust me, absolutely no problem. I don't know how many people will be undergoing purification and calling for the God of Order's gaze tomorrow night, but believe me, because of me, you will become the brightest of them all." "And what about him?" Karen pointed at the golden retriever. "The role of Guide is usually filled by church veterans, or according to your terms... an experienced madam." "He's an evil god!" Purr said. "Right," Karen said. "The reason an evil god is called an evil god is that in the previous era, when gods clashed, he lost and was suppressed. But at the very least, that proves he personally drew aggro from true gods—why else would those mighty true gods bother dealing with him? So in terms of drawing eyes, imagine God walking down the street, looking at the shops on either side. Standing outside those shops are plenty of madams, but no matter how well-reputed or experienced they are, none can compare to seeing someone you despise, someone who stokes your fury... a former enemy. No matter how much others pose and flirt, it's useless, because God won't be able to resist walking over—just to beat him up!" The golden retriever let out a pitiful whimper. Karen pointed a finger at himself and asked, "Then will God want to beat me up too?" "That scenario doesn't exist. The Church of Principles once did dedicated research on this." Purr finally jumped off the golden retriever. Relieved, the dog collapsed onto the floor, panting. Purr hopped onto the desk. Before she jumped up, Karen flipped over the dossier regarding her family members' burials and covered it with another document. "Here, draw a circle right here." Purr didn't notice Karen's little maneuver, assuming he shared a tacit understanding with her and knew what she wanted, feeling rather pleased. Now that was teamwork! Karen drew a circle in the blank space on the document. "The Church of Principles loves researching these bizarre things. You could say ninety-nine percent of what they discover is useless—at least, that's what I used to think. But when you actually need it, you realize those lunatics are absolute geniuses!" "Get to the point," Karen reminded her. "The point is: now poke a dot inside the circle." Karen made a dot with his pen. "The dot can represent God; the circle can also represent God. Just as believers like to anthropomorphize God on the one hand, giving Him human joys, anger, and sorrows, while on the other hand expanding Him, viewing Him as an embodiment of faith and rules. The Church of Principles' research concluded that God can be anthropomorphized and God has a temper, but most of the time, God has no temper at all, like cold gears. For instance, when God is brawling during the War of Gods, God is a person; when handing down oracles, God is a person. But when God is handling the work God is supposed to do, God is in another state: emotionless, rotating mechanical gears. In that state, He is absolutely omniscient and omnipotent, yet devoid of emotion and thought. Mmh... just like how many people in this world have a dream: feeling nothing while working, and then once work is done, heading to a pub for a drink and turning back into themselves—or turning back into themselves when going on vacation." Karen nodded. "I understand." "You... really understand?" Purr asked. "Do you want me to expand the explanation using Diss's theoretical framework?" "No need. I get it." God needed the church, needed faith, needed this operational process—this was work God could not shirk. So God had partitioned his consciousness, and when dealing with work... God's consciousness was equivalent to an AI. The true God wouldn't notice minor details of the work. He was performing the tasks, but had no idea what those tasks actually were. Now, even Karen couldn't help marveling: that crowd from the Church of Principles truly were geniuses. They were plainly frantically searching for bugs in God! And what Purr was planning to do was lead him to exploit that bug! Karen had already formed the habit of simplifying the complex aspects of this world, just as when listening to Old Anderson report on the family's situation with the Raphael family the other day, Karen had simply understood it as triad gangsters fighting over turf. Stripped of the veil of mysticism, the underlying mechanics of things were really all the same. Purr continued, "So it's essentially a replay of what I said earlier. God is walking down the street and sees an evil god standing at your doorstep—doesn't God come over on his own? That's purification. And doesn't God ask you where this old enemy came from? That's God's Revelation. And putting an evil god at your door while calling God over—aren't you asking for a beating? God chases you right into the house to beat you up, and that's God's Shepherd!" Purr clapped her cat paws. "A flawless acceleration process! Meow meow meow!" "I haven't read the relevant research documents from the Church of Principles." "Oh, back then I borrowed Sidi's identity card and hung out in the Church of Principles' archives for ages. Sidi was representing the Church of Order at an event held within the Church of Principles at the time. When she found out later, that old woman even tried to hunt this lady down!" Karen thought to himself: *You're two hundred years old yourself, yet you call someone else an old woman.* "Most importantly, this is how Diss arranged it. He had me come back with you naturally wanting me to help you undergo purification. In truth, children in church schools or inside the church receive church cleansing and sense the divine presence at a very early age, whereas human lifespans are limited. Karen, at your age, it can't be considered late, but it's not early either. Diss definitely wants you to grow and grow strong at maximum speed, so we absolutely must accelerate! Or do you want to pursue ascetic cultivation, following Mr. Hoffen's example—not caring for power or realm, only wanting to spend an entire lifetime swimming in the ocean of knowledge and scripture?" Karen shook his head. "That's the spirit! Besides, you know as well as I do that I've pinned all the Allen family's hopes on you; I'd never harm you. The person who wants you to grow up safely the most is me, Purr Allen! Heaven knows when that damned Raphael family will settle their internal feud, and whether they'll continue nibbling away at the Allen family once it's over. If Diss hadn't fallen into a coma, I'd really love to ask him: when he could have easily wiped the Raphael family's estate off the map with a single forbidden curse, why did he specifically kill only the patriarch? Perhaps Diss wanted to keep the Allen family—and me—hungry and under a sense of urgency?" "I think Grandfather..." "Do you have the nerve to claim Diss isn't the kind of person who schemes and arranges everything? It's fine; if you have the nerve to say it, I'll allow you to lie to my face." Karen chuckled. Just then, there was a knock at the study door. Karen pressed the bell on the desk. The door opened, and Alfred stood in the doorway: "Young Master, the Queen has sent a special envoy to the Allen family. Old Anderson hopes you will join in meeting him. Not here in the study, but in the ordinary drawing room on the first floor." "All right." Karen reached out, patted Purr's head, and rose from the desk. Once the study door clicked shut, Purr leaped down from the desk and walked to the center of the room. Her furry head looked around at the portraits of the ancestors hanging on the walls. She first pointed at the portrait of Founder Allen above the desk: "Founder, your bloodline has been passed down to this day, thinned so much that it can no longer protect our clan. The thing I regretted most back then was choosing your faith system from the start instead of joining a church. It left me with zero sense of achievement after reaching Tier Nine, only disappointment—turns out that you, so high and mighty, were nothing special after all. Being weak yourself was one thing, but you held me back! Still, rest assured: I, Purr Allen, will forge a brand-new starting point for the Allen family!" Purr lifted her paw again, pointing at Count Rekar. "Is embracing a Queen so grand? I shall compose a glorious chapter for the family that far surpasses yours!" Finally, Purr bypassed her own portrait and looked instead at a stern-faced man among the paintings. "Father, I know you hated what I did right up until you died. But if I hadn't disrupted your lunatic scheme, the Allen family wouldn't just be fallen today—it would have been wiped out long ago! Dreaming of converting a family faith system into a church faith system... did you really think those great churches were vegetarians? Your ambition exceeded your abilities, and it exceeded what our family could endure. Now, I have returned, and I've brought that thing back with me. Diss must have planned this far ahead, hehe... calculating the Allen family, Eunice, even me, and that thing inside me—all into his design." Purr let out a long breath, puffed out her feline chest once more, and declared in a ringing voice: "Founder, my ancestors, and my juniors: "If you can, please open your eyes in three days and watch! "Watch how the most dazzling genius in the history of the Allen family— "How I... "Create a god!"