Chapter 152: Comparing Grandfathers?

Chapter 152: Relying on a Grandfather?

The two dark-robed figures stared at Karen, their eyes filled with utter disbelief. As mere divine servants assigned here to "wrap up affairs," they had anticipated a straightforward task; never in their wildest dreams did they expect the very recipient of the pension to be standing alive and well right before them.

Karen placed his hands across his chest and spoke with earnest devotion:

"Praise be to the great God of Order, praise be to Order!"

The two figures instantly mirrored his gesture:

"Praise be to the great God of Order, praise be to Order."

The ritual concluded.

"Are you... truly Lord Inquisitor Pavaro?"

"I am."

"You did not perish?"

"I was falsely accused and imprisoned, then intentionally released so they could hunt me down to silence me. I nearly died, but I escaped, thanks to the protection of the great God of Order."

"This..."

"We..."

The two dark-robed men looked at each other in bewilderment;

Karen's intuition told him there was more to this matter than met the eye.

"Lord Inquisitor Pavaro, we must return and report this to Adjudicator Vicole."

"And the pension..."

"Naturally, it must be rearranged, rearranged."

"Very well." Karen nodded, a faint sense of disappointment stirring in his heart.

The two men promptly climbed back into their vehicle and departed.

Alfred stepped out of his car and approached, looking perplexed. "Young Master, what is the meaning of this?"

"They came to deliver Mr. Pavaro's pension and commendation, though I suspect there is another story behind this, something far from pure. This Adjudicator Vicole... I have a premonition he will be paying me a visit shortly."

"Then what of you, Young Master?"

"I shall wait to meet him."

"Young Master

"Boss, I will go sweep up right away."

Having dismissed the two workers, Karen stepped into the backyard. After a brief hesitation, he walked over to the door of his two daughters' bedroom, removed the lock, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

The two girls were sitting on the bed playing cat's cradle. Having bathed in the blood soul powder yesterday, their spirits were clearly much improved, and the black spots on their skin had faded considerably, revealing a flushed complexion beneath.

When Karen walked in, the two girls instinctively ceased their game, both sub-consciously retreating toward the inner side of the bed.

Karen stood there, advancing no further.

A moment later, both girls offered Karen a faint smile—it was slight, but unforced.

A smile played upon the corner of Karen's lips as well, and he turned to walk out of the bedroom, where Mrs. Lake stood waiting outside the door.

"You... you are back?"

"Yes," Karen grunted in response, and then asked, "Where is the study?"

"You... you do not have a study."

"Oh, I forgot."

"Shall I go tidy up the bedroom?"

"Yes, please."

Mrs. Lake walked into the bedroom and began gathering the things on the bed; Karen followed her inside and shut the bedroom door behind them.

"The matter I was investigating previously has yielded a result. Those who targeted me, suppressed me, and plotted against my life are all finished."

Her back turned to Karen as she tidied, Mrs. Lake trembled slightly, then nodded forcefully, saying, "That is wonderful, truly."

"But many people believe I am dead. Therefore, my merit in this matter has been stolen by someone else."

Hearing this, Mrs. Lake stiffened once more, and then, forcing her voice to remain steady, she said:

"As long as you are safe and sound, nothing else matters."

"The person who stole my merit will likely come here to find me shortly. He thinks I am dead, but since I am alive, he now wishes to buy me off. I have decided to accept his bribe.

Oh, his rank is higher than mine."

Mrs. Lake turned around, her eyes averted from Karen, her head bowed, her teeth biting her lower lip. After a short pause, she spoke: "Then there are benefits to be had. How wonderful, how wonderful."

Her man was dead, her man was dead!

And now, there was actually someone seeking to snatch away the honor that belonged to her man!

"I promise you, he will later pay for this matter with his soul, but at present, I do not yet possess the ability. I need time."

"No, no, no." Mrs. Lake rushed up to Karen, placing her hands upon his chest, before instantly realizing this was not her husband. She snatched her hands away immediately. "You must absolutely not take any risks, do not take risks, truly do not take risks. It is not worth it, it is not worth it."

"It is worth it."

"No, it is not worth it!"

Mrs. Lake kept her voice low, her fists clenched as she snarled.

"I believe that the friend you spoke of yesterday would not want you to do this either. I believe in your friend—that friend's temperament must have been terribly stubborn. Anyone who could become friends with him... must surely be a good person too."

Mrs. Lake placed her hand over her own heart, tears finally spilling over uncontrollably:

"I can feel it, truly, I can feel it. Do not go taking risks, do not fret over these things anymore, alright? Has that friend of yours not already died? He is already dead, stop fretting over these things, truly, truly do not fret over them anymore.

He is a dead man, he truly has no need for these things anymore, no need at all."

Karen looked at the weeping Mrs. Lake and said:

"Yes, he is already dead."

"Yes, and so..." Mrs. Lake wiped her tears with her sleeve, "And so, remain safe and sound, live well, alright? Not for my two daughters, nor for me, but you... you, live well, alright?"

"What is the meaning of a funeral?" Karen asked.

"The meaning..."

"Is it held for the deceased to see? No, you ought to understand that a funeral is mostly held for the living to see."

"The living..."

"I only came to tell you because, for some reason, my temper has changed somewhat lately. Perhaps it is because I suffered false accusations and went to prison, making me somewhat impatient. Therefore, I am merely informing you.

In a very apologetic manner, informing you."

"Then... then... then do as you see fit. In truth, I wanted to say these words to him... to you, a very long time ago, but I could never bring myself to speak them. This is my regret.

In truth, in truth, in truth, the daughters and I have always lived a very exhausted and agonizing life. I know you were always in agony too, I understood it in my heart, but in the past I simply could not control myself, I truly could not control myself. I regret it so much, so much."

Mrs. Lake rested her forehead against Karen's shoulder, and this time, her hands settled upon Karen's chest.

Karen kept both his hands at his sides, never raising them. He knew that Mrs. Lake needed a support, that she needed an emotional release; right now, she was treating him as the departed Mr. Pavaro.

"I clearly knew your pain was no less than mine, yet I kept blaming you, cursing you, and hating you, because doing so made me feel better inside.

I was too selfish, truly, I truly feel I am so selfish now. I want so badly to say I am sorry to you, I am sorry, I am sorry!

If there were another chance, or if a similar situation arose again, I would only want to say that my daughters and I have lived a truly exhausted life. Sometimes, the worst outcome is instead a kind of release.

You... no, you, must not carry any psychological burden."

Mrs. Lake reached up, her hand touching Karen's face.

"I can feel it, I can feel it, I can feel that he willingly accepts you, treats you... as a friend. From this face, I can feel it."

Similar words had been spoken by Lemar at the pottery gallery when he was examining the face skin.

"Live on well, accompany the two daughters, and live on well. I recently made a new friend, and he might have a way to cure our daughters' illness."

"Is... is it true?"

"Yes. At the very least, a method better than the blood soul powder can be found, allowing them to suffer much less torment. Perhaps they can even go to the park, or go to school?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Mrs. Lake thanked him repeatedly,

"Thank your friend."

"I need to prepare to receive our guest," Karen reminded her.

"Oh, right, right." Mrs. Lake immediately wiped away her tears.

As a woman who had lost a beloved husband, she had no way to weep aloud in the mourning hall before the public eye, so her grief could only transform into a fleeting manifestation. This, too, was a form of misery.

Karen walked behind the desk and sat down.

"What would you like to drink, tea or coffee?"

"Would it not be somewhat inappropriate for you to bring it in to me?" Karen asked with a smile.

"Ha..." Mrs. Lake also felt an inexplicable urge to laugh; with tear stains still lingering on her face, the corners of her mouth twitched, but she ultimately held it back.

"Ice water, then."

"Very well."

Mrs. Lake faced Karen and gave a deeply earnest bow.

Karen immediately stood up;

Mrs. Lake paused as her hand reached for the bedroom door, suddenly saying:

"Before, he always firmly believed in that..."

"Believed in what?" Cullen asked.

Mrs. Lake looked toward Cullen: "I suddenly feel that the God of Order might truly have heard his prayers."

With that, Mrs. Lake walked out of the bedroom;

Soon, even with the door closed, Mrs. Lake's sharp voice carried over clearly:

"Pick, bring your master a cup of ice water, remember to use the boiler wastewater!!!"

Cullen sat down, picking up the fountain pen once again.

After a short while, Pick pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Boss, your ice water."

"Mm, Pick, let me ask you something."

"Ask away, Boss."

"You and Dincombe are both on my official staff, correct?"

"Of course, Boss."

"If I wanted to recruit another divine servant, could I get an official slot for them?"

"Boss, you forgot, you are a seventh-class inquisitor, so you can only have two divine servants under you."

"A seventh-class inquisitor..."

"That's the lowest rank of inquisitor, because your temper makes it easy for you to offend people, Boss... So, if you want to add another slot, you get one more for every two ranks you rise."

"Alright, I understand. Also, how many Order Vouchers is my monthly income?"

"One thousand Order Vouchers, Boss. Did you even forget this?"

Is the income that low... So Selena just gifted him half a month's salary? Oh no, Selena gave him Abyss Vouchers, but the exchange rate shouldn't be too ridiculous.

"Pick."

"Present, Boss."

"I want you to swear now in the name of the God of Order that you will not tell a second person what I just asked you."

"Uh... Alright, Boss. I swear in the name of the God of Order to keep Boss's questions just now a secret!"

"Alright, you may go out."

"Okay, Boss." Pick scratched his head and walked out.

Having an honest subordinate felt rather pleasant.

Cullen closed his eyes to rest his mind; he didn't need to worry too much about his "performance" because Pavaro's persona was very clear-cut, and the other party should know it too. So, when the visitor arrived, it would mostly depend on how that person played their part.

About twenty minutes later, Dincombe knocked on the bedroom door: "Boss, there's a visitor."

"Bring him in."

"Yes, Boss."

The bedroom door was pushed open, and a man dressed in a gray trench coat stepped inside. He removed his hat, then drew a small scroll from within it and tossed it onto the floor. A blue flame flared up and quickly died down, instantly forming a blue barrier within the bedroom.

"First time meeting you. My name is Viclai, originally a regional clerk, recently transferred to adjudicator."

"Pavaro."

Seeming to have long anticipated this stiff manner of conversation, Viclai walked up to the desk on his own accord and said:

"Judge Qihexu's affair has been completely exposed, and he himself is dead. The regional office found the sealed official report you sent previously while tracing back the matter, along with the report claiming you were shot dead during a prison break.

Therefore, I forged some correspondence to prove that you had reported to me, and that it was under my instructions that you continued the investigation, ultimately exposing Judge Qihexu's wicked deeds."

"God of Order bless, I am still alive."

"Yes, that is something I didn't expect, and it makes things suddenly quite troublesome."

"Indeed."

"I need this credit. The regional office will grant you two thousand Order Vouchers as compensation—oh no, it's called a bonus now—and your inquisitor rank can rise from seventh-class to sixth-class.

I can give you an extra five thousand Order Vouchers.

Furthermore,

You will also gain my friendship. After my transfer is finalized, I will replace Adjudicator Luke and become your immediate superior."

Cullen spoke up:

"Ten thousand Order Vouchers, excluding the bonus; sixth-class becomes fifth-class; the choice of divine servant will be decided by me."

Viclai did not claim that Cullen was opening his mouth too wide, but instead said with some curiosity: "So straightforward?"

"This time I almost died. I want to treat my wife and children a bit better. My children require a large amount of Blood Spirit Powder every month. I have already fulfilled my duty to the Church; now, I want to be responsible for my family."

"Fine, I promise you. I will send someone with the ten thousand Order Vouchers tomorrow. The sixth-class will also be maneuvered by me into a fifth-class. As for the candidate for the divine servant, just submit a report yourself and I will approve it.

You need to write a statement of the situation in your name. I have already brought it for you; just transcribe a copy yourself and hand it in.

In addition, someone will come for a routine inquiry regarding the situation. Just speak to him according to what is written here."

"Alright, deal."

Viclai smiled and nodded, saying: "Deal."

"You can leave now." Cullen pointed at the door.

"Inquisitor Pavaro, I suddenly find that I rather like you," Viclai chuckled.

Cullen knew exactly what kind of "liking" Viclai meant, just like his own previous impression of Mr. Pavaro. When "Pavaro" spoke, it indeed made people believe him more easily, and the same went for his promises.

"I dislike you very much," Cullen said.

"Oh, of course, of course. I like your character. I believe we will have plenty of cooperation ahead, and I won't treat you poorly, unlike your former superiors.

Because my grandfather is one of the bishops of the York City region."

With that, Viclai put his hat back on, opened the door, and walked out.

The blue barrier dissipated along with him.

Cullen sat in his chair,

After a short while,

"Hehehe... Hehe..."

Cullen could not help but laugh out loud, subconsciously covering his mouth with his hand:

"He actually tried to compare grandfathers with me..."