Chapter 136: Light Takes the Blame

Chapter 136 Light, Scapegoat

Cullen helped clean Madame Anne's remains, but he was not Aunt Mary after all, so he could not perform a meticulous embalming.

Alfred had set up a formation in the downstairs washroom and placed Madame Anne inside, activating its operation; this was a simplest formation that could enhance beauty and naturally prevent decay.

After finishing all this, Cullen checked the time, and it was already morning.

"Young Master, would you like to take a rest?"

Cullen shook his head, glanced toward the upstairs study, and said, "I could have rested initially."

Cullen did not have that kind of extremely urgent psychological burden that finding that place earlier would save them earlier;

But the problem was, Mr. Pavaro was now entering the final countdown of his life, and leaving him sitting in the study in a daze, waiting for them to sleep and rest, seemed a bit too cruel.

"Can you keep going?" Cullen asked.

"Young Master, please rest assured about my energy."

"Then I will doze off for a while in the car."

Cullen walked upstairs, pushed open the door to enter the study, where Mr. Pavaro was sitting behind the desk.

"Do you want to come with us to continue the investigation?" Cullen asked.

"I want to go."

Pavaro's answer was very direct, and at the same time, he held out his hands, upon which two clumps of black flame immediately surfaced.

"My movements are inconvenient now, but I can still be of some use."

"Alright."

"Thank you—oh, sorry, I should not be so polite."

Puer and Kevin, exhausted after a long night, stayed home to rest, while Alfred carried Mr. Pavaro downstairs into the back seat, and Cullen sat in the passenger seat.

The car started, heading toward the Tadel family's textile factory.

Along the way, Mr. Pavaro kept looking out the window: "The scenery seen under a different mood is indeed different."

"I have paper and a pen here; if you wish, you can write poetry."

"I do not have that talent, nor do I want to join the crowd; the poets in this world are already overloaded, so I will not squeeze in."

"Haha."

Cullen rested his forehead against the car window, resting while pondering in his heart.

The scene where Mr. Pavaro saw his divine revelation and divine shepherding, was it because he had experienced them and left some kind of imprint that echoed with Pavaro's own faith?

Count Recar did not see these at the time... and he himself had not seen the scene of Count Recar awakening his family's faith system and praising the progenitor like this time.

So, was it because both he and Mr. Pavaro believed in Order?

Cullen subconsciously reached out to gently knead the space between his eyebrows, and then asked:

"Mr. Pavaro."

"Hmm?"

"After seeing those images of mine, why do you still think of me as 'My Lord'?"

Cullen believed in Mr. Pavaro's character; he had already gone this far, sacrificing himself at his post for justice.

"Because I only saw the images of your divine revelation and divine shepherding, I thought they were your past memories, huh?"

Speaking up to this point, Mr. Pavaro himself became surprised and suspicious; after thinking and recalling for a moment, he spoke:

"In that image, the you I saw... I did see you, and I also heard your inner monologue, but thinking back now, the you seen in the image actually had no face... No, there was a face, but I cannot remember your face; I did not think there was anything different about your face, but I just cannot recall it."

Alfred, who was driving, asked:

"Is it not exactly the same as the Young Master's face?"

"It is exactly the same," Pavaro confirmed, "but in the image I saw, the face existed, yet it did not exist."

"Hahaha."

Alfred suddenly burst out laughing,

Then, with a solemn expression, using a broadcaster's raspy, mature voice, he said:

"God cannot be looked upon directly!"

Mr. Pavaro curiously asked Alfred: "What is your faith?"

"The Church."

"Of course I know it is a church, the Principle Religion?"

"Ahem, the church I believe in is still relatively small in scale right now."

Alfred was too embarrassed to say that right now, this church seemed to have only himself as a believer.

Cullen, in the passenger seat, was pondering Pavaro's words just now, because the image he described matched a segment of the image in his own memory—that was when he was being purified, he saw the God of Order walking out from the void, and at that time, he also could not remember the face of the God of Order.

He listened to Pavaro's prayer, and Pavaro saw his thought images;

This was not a back-and-forth, but a cycle.

Because the textile factory was right in the Blue Bridge community, it was not far, and Alfred stopped the car ahead of time.

"Young Master?"

"Snatch a tongue," Cullen said.

"Yes, Young Master."

Alfred opened the car door, and as he stepped out, Cullen sighed with emotion, "The sun is quite nice today."

"Yes, Young Master, a wonderful sun."

Alfred smiled and walked toward the factory wall.

Sitting in the back seat, Pavaro said with some surprise, "So direct?"

"Mm."

Alfred would directly enter the factory workshop to find the core management for hypnotic interrogation; this was the simplest and most efficient way. As for whether this would leave any traces to alert the other party, it certainly would.

But there was no need to fear or worry, just praise the Light;

Because Light is always the natural enemy of Darkness!

Cullen believed that with Elder Docker and his crew around, they could withstand it.

"You know Lemar?"

"Why do you ask?"

"A feeling," Pavaro said.

"Perhaps, there is a shred of hope that he can help me."

"That is great, this is probably the best outcome for my family as well. You value family a lot too, do you not, Master Cullen? I could feel it when you mentioned your grandfather before."

"Not just my grandfather, my uncle, aunt, auntie, and my cousins are all my most cherished family members. In Roga City, I have a very cozy and warm home."

"Me too, both of my daughters are very sensible. Actually, it is all my fault, really all my fault. If only I had checked a few more times back then, if I had gone after that deviant demon a bit later or captured it sooner to return home, my two daughters wouldn’t have been contaminated to this extent.

I am not a qualified father.

My wife was originally very gentle as well, and that too was entirely caused by my own hands.

Thank you, Karen, for helping me bear this responsibility.

If this matter can be concluded successfully, it will mean that Tiersluk and that Lord Adjudicator, their evil deeds will be exposed, and their end will be miserable, meeting their retribution.

As for me, who should have died but didn't, it will seem quite normal, haha.

Because no one will believe the words of a heinous criminal: he is dead, he was killed by my own hands!"

Karen spoke up: "People prefer to believe that justice ultimately triumphs over evil. For the Church of Order, it is best if the one who excises their own rotten flesh is also a member of the Church of Order, so that a funeral can be celebrated like a wedding."

"Hearing that makes one quite expectant. Heh, I wouldn't have said such things in the past, nor would I have even liked this way of doing and thinking about things."

"Probably because you've died once, it's inevitable to let yourself go a little. An elder I know was just like that back then."

"Is that so."

"I'll sleep for a while, keep an eye out for me."

"Alright, I don't need rest now."

Karen reclined his seat back a bit, then lay upon it to begin a true sleep, completely defenseless against Mr. Pavarotti.

Then, Karen truly fell asleep.

Two hours later, Karen was nudged awake by Mr. Pavarotti. Opening his eyes to look out the car window, Alfred was already walking toward them.

Opening the car door, Alfred sat into the driver's seat and spoke directly:

"Young Master, I captured two managers, one of whom belongs to the Raphael family. The result of the interrogation is that every once in a while, a batch of female workers is transferred, but they do not know the location of the transfer. This part of the process is specifically handled by Mr. Tadel and his butler with another group of people."

"So, we still need to go to Mr. Tadel's house," Karen said. "How about I drive instead, so you can sleep a while?"

"No need, Young Master, I am fine."

Alfred restarted the car.

"If it were me, I would choose to investigate the factories and buildings constructed in recent years to see which ones have basements, including underground garages, though it would be a bit slower," Mr. Pavarotti said.

"I understand," Karen said, "but I find that too slow."

"I suppose your grandfather must have been an impatient man as well."

"Yes, you guessed correctly. My grandfather was the most impatient person in this world, haha."

"Haha..." Alfred smiled as well.

"Forgive my presumption in asking, but is your grandfather still around?"

"Yes, alive and well, he is waiting for me to go home."

"That is wonderful."

"Young Master, when I restrained them in the office for the hypnotic interrogation, praises to the Light never left my lips. By the way, I also set up the simplest minor Light-type formation to purify his office a bit."

"Are they dead?" Mr. Pavarotti asked.

Alfred replied casually: "Does such scum deserve to live? Both of those managers were in the know."

"Are you waiting for them to be awakened for questioning? But simply placing the suspicion on the Church of Light seems a bit too simple, doesn't it?"

Alfred looked toward Karen; this question was inconvenient for him to answer.

Karen answered directly:

"There is a remnant of the Light of considerable scale and quality active within York City at this very moment."

Mr. Pavarotti opened his mouth, and it took a long time before he closed it again, saying:

"You are much smarter than I am."

"When you made your first report, you blocked off all other paths."

"If it were you, would you have chosen to report it when you first discovered the situation?"

"No." Karen turned his gaze out the car window. "I didn't even trust him, so why would I trust those beneath him?"

...

The villa of the Tadel family;

The first floor, the living room.

The butler, Moon, was signing with a fountain pen. After finishing, he picked up the folder and presented it with both hands to the person in front of him.

"Mr. Butler... oh no, Mr. Moon, this division of inheritance is basically complete. From this moment onward, all assets under Tadel's name, including this villa, will be transferred under your name."

"I will dedicate everything I have to Raphael!"

"Mmh, very good. Tadel has already disappointed the Raphael family once, I hope you can remain vigilant."

"Of course, of course."

"Ensure the operations run smoothly."

"Yes, I understand. However, I have one more matter to report to you, which I ask you to submit to the family."

"Oh, what is it?"

"This is something I found in a hidden compartment of the villa, hidden away by Tadel."

The butler Moon opened the box in his hands, revealing a thick stack of letters inside, along with three thick, exquisite notebooks.

"Have you read all of these letters?"

"I dare not hide it from you, I have read them all. I had to ensure that what I present to the family are useful and valuable clues."

"The God of Light..."

"Yes, these letters were all written by Tadel to the God of Light."

"Heh, actually writing letters to a god, where did he intend to mail them? The Church of Light faded away into history long ago."

"Therefore, I believe Tadel's betrayal was because he was beguiled by the remnants of the Light. These three notebooks are all the doctrines of the Church of Light transcribed by Tadel himself.

He felt that the death of his wife and the mental issues of his son were retribution brought upon his own family by the evil deeds he committed.

Thus, in the letters, he repented to the God of Light time and time again, hoping to atone for his sins."

"Is that the reason for his betrayal? You have done very well."

"It is what I ought to do."

"Screen through it carefully again. Although the Church of Light has faded, the remnants of the Light have always existed. He must have come into contact with a certain remnant and been infected by their ideology."

"I will conduct a screened search to ferret out the remnants of the Light."

"Mmh, good, this material I will present to the Eldest Young Master, and I will also speak on your behalf before him to claim credit for you."

"Thank you for your cultivation and guidance."

"It is all just working for the family. Oh, right, that son of Tadel's, after psychological therapy, he returned to normal, didn't he?"

"After Tadel died, he suffered a relapse of his old illness. Previously he only felt his mother was by his side, but now, a deceased father has been added to keep him company as well."

"When a bit of time has passed, have him disposed of. At any rate, the notarization of the inheritance is already complete."

"My Lord, he is still just a child. I watched him grow up."

"Sigh. Do not harbor such cheap benevolence, for it holds no meaning. Handle him sooner rather than later, so you may fully assume Tadel's duties all the earlier."

A look of agony and conflict surfaced on Butler Muen's face; finally, biting his lip hard, he nodded with force.

"I shall return to the family now."

"I will see you out."

"No need. Ah, right—regarding the newest batch of goods coming in a few days, the numbers must be doubled. This is a request from above."

"Very well. I will certainly arrange it."

"Mm. Work hard."

"Farewell, sir."

The man stepped out of the villa. After getting into his car, he looked at the box containing the envelope and notebook in his hand, murmuring to himself:

"So, the Second Young Master's sudden disappearance is also connected to the remnants of the Church of Light?"

...

After the man from the family left, Butler Muen, whose face had just been filled with grief, now bore a cold smile at the corner of his lips. He walked over to the beverage station, picked up a glass, poured some soda into it, and then drew out two white pills, dropping them into the soda and shaking it as he watched the tablets dissolve.

Thereupon, carrying the glass, he walked up the stairs and arrived at the third floor.

Inside the third-floor bedroom, little John was curled up on the bed, his face flickering with an array of emotions: fear, innocence, naivety, panic;

One moment he looked to the left, the next to the right:

"Father, you are so bad, actually tickling Mother."

"Hahaha..."

Little John suddenly burst into laughter, rolling about on the bed as he cried out:

"Mother, Father tickled you, so why are you coming to tickle me? Hahahahaha..."

"Young Master?"

Muen reached out and knocked on the bedroom door, which was already open.

Little John stopped laughing, sat up, and said with a smile:

"Father, Mother, look, Uncle Muen is here."

Though Butler Muen knew the child was somewhat mentally deranged, hearing him speak these words sent a faint chill through his heart, as if the deceased Tadel and his wife were truly sitting by the bedside, watching him.

In truth, little John had played pranks on many people in the household—the maids, the valets, and his father—yet he had never once played a prank on Butler Muen.

Because he only played games with interesting people, or rather, he only played games with those who were kind to him.

Thus, this difference in treatment meant he did not find his butler uncle interesting, nor did he find him... kind.

"Young Master, you must be thirsty after playing so hard. Why don't you drink this glass of soda?"

"I am not thirsty."

"Come now, drink it and then keep playing. Keep playing with Father and Mother, alright?"

Muen offered the glass to the front of little John.

Little John looked at him and smiled;

Muen smiled as well: "Drink up, Young Master."

Little John nodded,

Reaching out to take the glass,

But the hand holding the glass suddenly jerked away;

"I want to drink it, don't take it away, Uncle Muen."

Muen's eyes widened in shock, for he realized that his own hand had actually pulled the glass back, and at this moment, the right hand holding the glass was entirely refusing to obey his commands.

"Uncle Muen, don't take it away, I want to drink."

"Alright, I will give it to you to drink."

Butler Muen gripped his right hand with his left, trying to force it forward, but suddenly, he discovered that his left hand was no longer obeying his commands either.

"Uncle Muen, is it that you want to drink it?"

"No, I don't want to drink it. I am not thirsty."

"If Uncle wants to drink, then Uncle should drink first. Father said so too, to let Uncle drink first."

"No, I won't drink, I won't drink..."

Muen's eyes bulged as he watched his own right hand lift the glass to his lips, attempting to force it into his mouth;

He kept his mouth tightly shut, but in the next instant, his jaws felt as though they were being pried apart by invisible hands, agonizingly, excruciatingly painful.

"Uncle, Father says you are thirsty and wants to feed you some water."

Muen's eyes were filled with sheer terror. His mouth was forced wide open, and then this entire glass of soda was poured directly down his throat, gulp, gulp...

Once the whole glass of soda had been drained, Muen found that his body had finally returned to normal. He immediately fell to his knees, clawing at his throat with his fingers in a desperate bid to force himself to vomit.

But very quickly,

White foam began to spew from his mouth and his body began to convulse. The poison had already taken effect... and he had intentionally added two pills.

"No... no... no..."

Muen clutched his neck with one hand, while his other hand clawed blindly at the air in front of him.

Little John asked with deep concern:

"Uncle Muen, what is wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"

"How... how... can this be..." Muen asked with great difficulty.

The smile on little John's face gradually faded away,

And he replied very calmly:

"Ever since the year I secretly hid in Father's car and visited that place, I realized I had become a little different."

Just then, another figure appeared at the bedroom doorway.

Upon seeing the newcomer, little John's expression first stiffened into solemnity, and then he smiled once more. This smile was far more pure and genuine than the one he had given Muen moments before.

Standing at the doorway, Karen opened his arms and called out with profound piety:

"Praise the Light!"

Little John froze for a moment, somewhat at a loss.

Muen, whose rapid poisoning left him unable to breathe, turned his head with agony to look at Karen standing by the door.

"The Light has witnessed your father's loyalty, and your father's soul has already been guided into the heaven of Light.

"Now, I have come to take you away. The place we are going is also a standalone villa with a large courtyard, not at all inferior to the environment of this home of yours."

"Thud!"

By then, Mu En had already collapsed onto the ground, face down and utterly motionless, though his eyes still blinked faintly; death was now nothing more than a final countdown.

Little John hopped down from the bed, walked over to Karen, and asked in confusion:

"Where is that big house?"

Karen took Little John's hand in his,

And replied with a smile:

"Three-Zero-Seven Apple Street."

Right next door to... Piaget's home.

—

That concludes today's update. Thank you all for this month's subscriptions, tips, and monthly ticket support; I am truly grateful for your companionship.