Chapter 183: The Target Of Order
By the time Karon got home, it was past midnight. As he walked through the front of the funeral home, he saw Pike lying in the corner, wrapped in a blanket. Tonight, it was his turn to snore.
In truth, there was no longer any need for a night watch, because Karon had already moved in, but as soon as he had returned, the two shot assistants had naturally picked the old tradition back up again.
Karon saw Ciri walking out of the shared washroom. Still drowsy, she looked at Karon and asked, “Young Master, would you like some supper prepared?”
“No need. Go rest.”
“Yes, Young Master.” She walked into a small room.
So the maid had become a live-in servant now as well? Karon went to his own bedroom. Kevin stood up from his dog bed and shook himself. Pu’er, meanwhile, was lying by the bedside table with the lamp on, both paws crossed in front of her, her expression serious and intent. “What are you doing?”
“Contemplating.”
“Hmm?”
“I cannot allow others to smear me like this,” Pu’er said. “So I’m going to publish an autobiography.”
“Oh, alright. Who’s writing it for you?”
“Little John. I’ve already found my writer.”
“Let me read the first draft when it’s done.”
“Of course. I will permit you to become one of the first readers of my great work.”
“I’m only worried you’ll add things you shouldn’t.”
“How is that possible? I’ve always been very careful. By the way, you were out for dinner so late, what new activity got added at the end?” As she spoke, Pu’er turned over. She continued, “I’ve heard that among men, there’s a tradition in regards to after work dinners, which is going to a pastry shop for some pastries.”
“There’s someone in the squad named Gray. He’s very skilled in close combat, so I went to learn from him.”
“You fought?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, let me guess. The process must have been that you couldn’t beat him, but improved at an astonishing rate.”
“How did you know?”
“You should understand; I watched Tiz grow up. When I watch the same film a second time, it’s only natural that I can easily follow the plot, right?”
“Heh, I’m going to bathe first. I’m tired and want to sleep soon.”
“Of course. I’ve already warmed the bed for you.”
“I might as well use a hot-water bottle.”
“It’s different. The temperature of water and body temperature are not the same.”
“You’re suddenly being so attentive. What do you want?”
“I want some credits. You know, Kevin and I like to have some materials to do a bit of research and make some imprints.”
“Ask Alfred for them.”
“Oh, that damned radio demon is so stingy! I asked him a few days ago and he actually told me the household budget was tight.”
“I brought back quite a lot of credits this time, so if you ask him again, he should give you some.”
“Really? That’s wonderful! Our little Karon is all grown up and can earn credits outside and bring them home. This ancestor is very gratified.”
Karon did not keep bantering with Pu’er. After entering the washroom and bathing, he changed his clothes and went back to lay down on his bed. Pu’er approached again and asked, “So this funeral home is no longer accepting business?”
“Yes. I gave the order. For now, we’re no longer taking ordinary people’s funerals.”
“You are quite ambitious.”
“It isn’t ambition. I just don’t want the hassle. Alright, sleep. I still have to go train tomorrow.”
“Good night, meow.”
***
Karon slept until noon. After washing up, he went through the bedroom door to his study and saw Pu’er dictating while Little John recorded with a fountain pen. When he saw Karon come in, Little John immediately said, “Today is the weekend.”
“Yes.” Karon responded and walked out of the study.
“Young Master, your lunch is ready.”
“Alright.”
Ciri had prepared a noodle dish for Karon. It was somewhat like fried noodles, and there were abundant side dishes. She was certainly trying hard to cater to his taste. As he ate, Karon asked, “Ciri, are you living here now?”
“Yes. I can go home once a week, and if something comes up I can go back and take a look. Mr. Alfred made the arrangements for me.”
“That’s good. It isn’t safe to go home at night.”
“Because another family of relatives has come to York City, the little room where I used to sleep is now occupied. I pleaded with Mr. Alfred before I was allowed to live here. Thank you, Mr. Alfred, and thank you as well, Young Master, for taking me in.”
“You earn this much money, and there’s not even a bed left for you at home?”
“No, Young Master, they’re relatives. Although I haven’t really met them much before, relatives should definitely help one another. That’s what I think. Isn’t that right, Young Master?”
“Yes,” Karon responded, but he noticed that Ciri had avoided his question about “you earn this much money,” so he did not pursue the topic. The girl was very diligent. When he had first met her, her complexion had been somewhat dark, but after working as a maid for a while, her skin had grown noticeably much fairer than before. And based on what he had seen yesterday in the washroom, and those white curves...
It meant that her original darker skin tone had likely been caused by frequent outdoor labor under the sun over the past few years. Her natural complexion should be rather fair. “By the way, Ciri, prepare some food for me this afternoon. I want to take it tonight to share with some friends.”
“No problem, Young Master.”
After finishing lunch, Karon stood up and walked into the yard. There was a long bench by the flower bed, and beside it was a swing. At the moment, Dora and Dorin were playing on that swing.
Karon walked over and sat down on the bench, and the two girls immediately walked over and very politely greeted him. He smiled. “Go on and keep playing.”
“You two! Get back inside and review your lessons. Don’t disturb Mr. Karon.” Ms. Lake came out and shouted at the girls. They bowed to Karon, and then ran back to their own room.
“Isn’t it good to let children play?” Karon said with a smile. “I quite enjoy watching them play.”
It could also count as seeing them live happily on behalf of Mr. Pavaro.
Ms. Lake sat down beside him on the bench and said, “I do want them to go to school, but they’re already not that young anymore, so finding a school is rather troublesome.”
“That’s easy enough; just hire a tutor. Have Alfred arrange it. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Mr. Karon.”
“Madam, there’s no need to be so formal.”
Ms. Lake seemed to recall something. She blushed slightly as she silently nodded.
At that moment, Pike walked in holding a newspaper. “Boss, here’s today’s papers.”
Karon reached out and took them. There were two ordinary newspapers, the same ones that Karon often read in bed at night, but there was also the addition of Order Weekly, which he had just subscribed to.
“Carry on, then. If you need anything, please tell me.” Ms. Lake took her leave.
“Alright, Madam.” Karon nodded to her. Then, under the slightly languid afternoon sunlight, he leaned back against the bench and began reading the paper.
He still had to go to the same place as yesterday to continue his training with Gray in the night, so this stretch of the afternoon could be a little leisurely.
Karon first read Order Weekly. He skipped the dry articles concerning faith and Arts, and instead specifically perused some news concerning the ecclesiastical world. Sure enough, in one section of the paper, Karon saw a news piece criticizing a church: the Church of Pamireth.
According to the records in Mr. Hoffen’s notes, the Church of Pamireth had existed for two entire epochs, making it even older than the Church of Order itself.
The church worshipped the god Pamireth, who was a very legendary image, because his divine office was... delivering messages.
In the mythic narratives of many orthodox churches and great churches, stories about the gods, especially about when conflicts broke out between them, whether it was a declaration of war, a ceasefire, or the conclusion of an alliance, there was often a single line recorded: such-and-such god ordered Pamireth to deliver a message.
Because of that, there was a theory that Pamireth had mastered some kind of spatial talent. Because of this, He was able to easily pass through spatial barriers set up by various gods and deliver messages at the fastest speed.
Of course, there was also a conspiracy theory that, during the frequent wars among the gods in the previous epoch, it was very likely that Pamireth, acting as a messenger, had stirred up further conflict from within.
Yet every time, Pamireth had always stood on the side of the victors. For example, after some great war among the gods ended, the representative god of the winning side would have Pamireth spread the glad tidings of the end of war to the world.
In reality, the present-day Church of Pamireth had always been a mid-sized church, and what it was best at was the creation of spatial tools. Its influence was not actually that great, but no one dared underestimate them, because their accumulated foundation was there.
In Order Weekly, the Church of Pamireth was criticized for secretly sheltering and protecting Light vermin. A series of evidence was presented in the article, including that during the recent manhunt for Light vermin in York City, many people had escaped by using spatial holy relics.
This was actually a weather vane, because during the destruction of Light, nearly every surviving orthodox church had done something to kick it while it was down. For the Church of Pamireth to be deeply entangled with Light vermin was clearly a violation of a taboo recognized by all of the churches.
At the same time, one could not help but take into account Pamireth’s role in the various mythic narratives, making it difficult not to suspect that the Church of Pamireth believed Light would rise again, and had therefore made their bet early.
Things like destiny and prophecy were believed by the churches, but the problem was that they only believed their own, because everyone had a god above their heads and could receive oracles, so why should they believe yours?
So even if the Church of Pamireth were truly to openly declare that they had received an oracle saying Light was about to rise again, everyone would still attempt to join forces and suppress Light once more, unless... the momentum of Light’s rise became unstoppable.
Karon did not know how much of this was true, but beneath that report there were also quoted statements from other churches. The mildest stance was one of grave concern, while those who took stronger ones were already publicly accusing the Church of Pamireth.
There was another piece of news after that, namely that in the waters of the Longlute Sea, strange natural disasters had been occurring frequently of late, and had caused five cargo ships and three cruise liners to capsize. The Church of Principle issued an investigation notice saying it was very likely that some force was conducting experiments with high-grade spatial holy relics in that sea region.
This report did not give any names, but when read together with the previous attack, it easily made one think of the Church of Pamireth.
Perhaps further evidence and discoveries would appear in the next issue of the paper. The water in the pot had to be heated slowly until it boiled.
Spatial holy relics? If the target selected by the Church of Order really was the Church of Pamireth, then in this annihilation campaign, could their squad gain spatial holy relics as spoils?
After that, Karon casually flipped through the ordinary newspapers and read some international news. Two more of the Veyn Empire’s colonies had erupted in independence uprisings. The military’s initial suppression had failed in both places, and the empire needed to deploy more troops from elsewhere to put them down.
The governments of multiple nations had introduced laws opposing the dumping of Veyn goods, and the Veyn government had already lodged a strong protest and reserved the right to enact equivalent retaliation.
The current king of Ulanes, who had grown up in Veyn in years past, requested that Veyn’s navy enter port, because he was worried a movement to overthrow the royal family was brewing within his country.
Karon felt that ever since he had arrived in Veyn, almost every piece of international news he had seen about Veyn had been bad news. This vast empire seemed to be heading down the slope toward collapse and disintegration.
Of course, Karon did not think he had brought bad luck. Some objective laws of history could not possibly be changed by a single person like him.
As for Veyn’s domestic news, Mr. Luder had once again held a rally, reiterating that he sought rights through peaceful means, and demanding that the government grant equal voting rights to purple-haired people who had legal jobs and to those who had been immigrants for several generations.
Mr. Luder had become very popular within the last year. The purple rights movement he had stirred up was steadily moving toward its climax, drawing more and more attention.
Karon noticed that in the photograph, the purple-haired followers standing behind and below Mr. Luder appeared very orderly, and they all wore hats and various kinds of suits. They did not match the usual image of illegal immigrants who engaged in degrading labor.
Closing the paper, Karon stretched lazily. At that moment, Dinkom came over holding an official letter. Karon opened it and discovered it was a work meeting initiated by Vicolay for the Inquisitors within the district under his jurisdiction as Adjudicator. It was scheduled for the afternoon in three days.
“With Mr. Pavaro absent, can this be declined?”
Dinkom replied, “Boss, the person who delivered the official notice said that previous meetings could be skipped, but this one must be attended, because a Bishop will be coming to inspect grassroots work, and our district is one of his scheduled stops.”
“Oh, I see.”
That Bishop was very likely Vicolay’s grandfather. In fact, after their last meeting, Karon had not had any contact at all with Vicolay. He seemed to have deliberately drawn a line between himself and Mr. Pavaro, and did not want any further entanglement.
That was also normal. No matter how nicely he may have spoken at the time, he had essentially said, “As you followed me, Pavaro, I can guarantee you a better future.” The fact remained that Karon’s persona of Mr. Pavaro was one that would cause most superiors unwilling to get close to him.
To a certain degree, that had provided Karon with a great deal of convenience, as it meant that Mr. Pavaro could continue doing outside missions without needing to come back.
But this time...
“I understand. I’ll notify Mr. Pavaro.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Checking the time and feeling that it was about right, Karon walked into the study and saw that Ciri had already packed some food, per his earlier instructions. Carrying it with him, Karon got into the car and drove to the factory district from last night.
The gatekeeper had changed. The current one was a bald man with a vicious-looking face. “Haven’t seen you before.”
“Miss Fannie and Miss Paige are my friends. I came yesterday.”
“Understood, please go in.”
Karon did not stay on the first floor, but went straight downstairs. There, he found only Fannie, practicing shooting.
“This is nice, you even brought food.” Fannie put her gun down and walked over to Karon to start eating. “Gray isn’t here yet, but he should arrive soon. Paige won’t be coming tonight, she has something else to do.”
“Mm.”
While the two of them were eating, Gray walked in.
“Gray, have you eaten? These stuffed pastries are pretty good.”
“I’ve already eaten. You two take your time, no rush.” Gray silently picked up a new spear and stepped onto the ring, except this time he did not wrap the spear tip. In fact, the wrapping from yesterday had split apart very quickly.
Karon immediately took a cloth Ciri had prepared. He wiped his hands and ran to the rack to grab the longsword, and then step onto the ring.
“I’m not in a hurry,” Gray said as he looked at Karon.
“A student shouldn’t make the teacher wait.”
His cat teacher and dog teacher back home both had rich experiences, but no matter what, they could not hold blades or swords with their paws to spar with him. At the moment, Gray was the most suitable teacher Karon had encountered, and he treasured this learning opportunity.
“Then let’s begin.”
“Yes, Mr. Gray.”
Tonight’s lesson lasted a full three hours. Although Gray still could not completely let loose, he was clearly much more composed than yesterday and was no longer so cautious and careful. Karon still saw his Sea God’s Armor shatter again and again, but the length of each round grew and grew, and the content displayed during their exchanges left him very satisfied.
And just as with yesterday, during the last hour, Gray began to show some fatigue, while Karon, after two hours of training, grew more and more vigorous as the fight went on. During the final hour, the two men sparred a total of four matches, and Karon even won twice. For those two victories, he managed to stop his blade calmly.
“Alright, no more.” Gray was the first to call for a stop. He did not want to fight to complete exhaustion, like yesterday. Karon again walked over to Gray and bowed to him, thanking him for his guidance.
“Actually, you don’t need to be this serious, I mean in terms of attitude.” Gray sounded somewhat helpless. “The way you treat me makes me feel as though in the next mission I’ll have to die protecting you. That feeling is very uncomfortable.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize that.”
“We’ll continue tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mr. Gray.”
“Fannie, I’m going back first. You and Karon enjoy yourselves.”
“Yes, alright, get lost.”
Fannie looked at Karon and asked, “Tired?”
“I’m alright.”
“Heh, Gray must be even more tired. So, are you next planning to find somewhere to drink with me, or are you heading home early?”
“I want to head home early.”
“Fine, then go on back.”
Karon walked to the door, stopped, turned around, and looked at Fannie. “I think you already knew I’d refuse.”
“Mhmm.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because today is the anniversary of a very ugly man dying to protect me.”
Hearing that, Karon asked, “So, is there a place to bathe here?”
“Do you regret asking that extra question?” Fannie laughed.
“No. You should have told me earlier.”
***
“Oh my, I should call Karon from Pavaro Funeral Home, because we’re almost out of the food they brought last time.” Saman pointed at the food in the pot as he spoke, but that did not slow Nio’s fork in the slightest. “You’ve been coming to see her every day lately. Don’t you think that’s too frequent?”
“Because there’s been nothing going on lately, so I want to come keep her company more,” Nio said.
“Do you know what kind of people visit graves often?”
Nio shook his head.
Saman answered, “Old people. Because they’re about to die, they think of coming often to have a look. Do you think they’re looking at the person lying below? No, they’re familiarizing themselves in advance with the environment where they’ll lie down in the future.”
“Are you talking about me?” Nio asked.
“Of course. I think the deadened air around you is no good. That kid, Karon, on the other hand, I think he’s not bad. Although he’s very steady, he can still take a joke. You can tell he’s someone who loves life, though he doesn’t respect the elderly very much and doesn’t like listening to me play the flute.
“In that respect, you ought to learn from him. No matter when, you have to love life.”
“I can’t learn that.”
“If you don’t try, how would you know? Hey, hey, hey, hey! This big fishball is mine, mine!”
After finishing their late-night meal, Saman looked at the mess on the small table in front of him. “You’re not coming tomorrow, are you?”
“I already said, I want to keep her company more.”
“You’re coming tomorrow too? Then what about the day after?”
“I’m coming. Unless something unexpected happens, I’ll come every day until I get busy again.”
“Next time bring Karon with you. You don’t bring food, while he understands proper manners.”
“Alright. Goodbye.”
“I don’t want to see you again.” Watching Nio’s figure gradually disappear into the distance, Saman didn’t hurry to clear the table. Instead, he sat there and mocked himself, “You’re going to come every day? I’m not going to run away. Even if I wanted to, where could I run to?”
Saman picked up the flute lying beside him and began to play. It was not very pleasant to hear, but he himself was completely intoxicated by it.
When the tune ended, Saman began to pant. He did not measure a tune according to sheet music, but according to his lung capacity. Once he felt his lungs could no longer support the continuous playing, it meant the tune had ended.
“Sigh, it’s getting shorter and shorter.” Saman’s gaze swept across the pitch-black cemetery.
Then, he held the recorder in his arms as if cradling a child and murmured, “Praise Pamireth.”
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