Chapter 165: We Are Hounds

Chapter 165: We Are the Hounds

"Have you read the Regulations of Order?"

"I have."

Ever since learning that the Light of Order and the Regulations of Order were not works of mythology but rather scientific textbooks, Karen had read them carefully several times while staying on Mink Street.

"Can you recite them in full?"

"Not yet, but I will study them diligently from now on."

The Regulations of Order was a massive volume, thick as a dictionary. Merely reading through it once took a considerable amount of time; memorizing it would be a truly monumental undertaking. Yet, if it concerned his future career and prospects, Karen was willing to invest the effort.

"Oh, there is no need to memorize the whole thing. After all, we aren't those pedants from the Church of Principles."

"Hmm?"

"Even we only skim through it. Hardly anyone actually memorizes the text; it is enough to have a general impression in your mind."

"Is that acceptable?"

"Yes. Sometimes when I say 'According to Volume X, Chapter Y of the Regulations of Order,' I cannot even remember it clearly myself, so I just make it up."

"One can truly do that...?"

"As long as you have a sense of it, it suffices. In any case, you can always consult the text afterward to make amends;

Since it is something none of us memorize, it is even less likely that anyone else would bother to do so, let alone correct you. You only need to remain steadfast in the conviction that the other party's actions have violated the Regulations of Order.

The Regulations of Order were originally established for the members of other churches. It is a constraint co-authored by the Church of Order and the other orthodox faiths."

"I understand, Captain. This time was my oversight. Next time, I shall invoke the Regulations of Order directly against them."

"Oh, this time was not your oversight." Neo produced a revolver and set it beside Karen's dining plate. "You fired that shot deliberately to lure them into the woods."

"I feared that exposing my identity as a member of the Church of Order might compromise your operations, Captain."

"Mmh, perhaps that was indeed a factor, but I suspect the greater probability is that you simply did not wish the manner of their deaths to be brought to light."

"..." Karen remained silent.

No matter how flawless the concealment, flaws would inevitably manifest before a truly clever man;

Indeed, even if your disguise were entirely without flaw, that absolute perfection might itself appear as the greatest flaw in his eyes.

He did not even need to hear your explanations, nor did he need to analyze the so-called evidence; a single glance was enough to stir an intuition. It was like an experienced detective watching a thief—even if you had not yet stolen anything, he could already foresee that you were about to do so.

"Quite intriguing," Neo said with a smile. "The first bullet must have pierced the car door and struck one of them, as there were bloodstains on the ground. The subsequent shots were aimed at the windshield but were deflected by spellcraft. More amusingly still, you emptied your entire cylinder into that summoned creature. Did you not know it was a futile gesture? You knew. And then you threw the gun away, as if terrified they would not pursue you."

Karen silently continued to slice his chicken cutlet.

"Why harbor such a mindset?" Neo’s finger tapped lightly against the tabletop. "You seemed positively impatient to do battle with them. Have you recently mastered some new spellcraft?"

Karen placed the sliced pieces of chicken into his mouth, one by one.

"There is no need to be tense."

"Captain, I am not tense. I feel as though I am already... somewhat accustomed to this."

"Do you know why my squad has never received a promotion?"

"I heard that Earl mention it was due to your relationship with Miss Elisa, Captain..."

"That is one reason. There is another: my subordinates were either pulled from the dungeons of the Whip of Order, or they are fugitives whose identities I helped launder to bring them into our ranks.

Every single one of them harbors a secret.

And so, this squad of mine—from myself as captain down to every last member—is thoroughly filthy."

Karen was just lifting his soda to drink; upon hearing these words, he nearly choked.

"I originally thought that the man chosen by Inquisitor Pavarotti would be entirely clean. I even wondered if you might become a second Inquisitor Pavarotti, so that your inclusion might help improve the atmosphere within my squad. When everyone is pitch black, it grows rather monotonous."

Karen was now certain that Captain Neo had not chosen him merely to plant a careless, plastic informant. He had truly done so out of respect for Inquisitor Pavarotti himself—a manner of recommendation based on merit, given that his identity was endorsed by the Inquisitor.

So, that strand of hair... was it put back by that lady after she opened the file dossier?

For a captain with such a meticulous mind, it seemed entirely natural that his secretary would possess such an obsessive attention to detail.

"But I see now that I misjudged. Yet, it matters little. After all, this has practically become the tradition of my squad."

A polite and cooperative smile appeared on Karen's face.

"For the time being, you remain an unofficial member. The higher-ups keep a very tight rein on my roster, because they well know the sorts of places from which I prefer to recruit."

"Understood, Captain."

"I am not one to pry into the secrets of my subordinates, however..." Neo gestured toward the outside. "Since you possess greater ability than I anticipated, I may summon you to participate in certain missions in the future. Of course, go now to visit your relatives and see your girlfriend. Any assignment will certainly wait until after your return to York City."

"No problem, Captain."

"In recent years, on one hand, the internal corruption of the Church has led to a decay of its authority; on the other hand, there are shifting tides in the grand climate. I have heard that even the remnants of the Light can receive faint guidance through certain damaged artifacts, though it falls short of divine revelation.

Naturally, there are other reasons I shall not elaborate upon;

In short, it is anticipated that in the coming period, friction between our Church and other factions will intensify, for they no longer harbor the fear and reverence they once held for us.

The higher-ups have clearly noticed this issue as well. Therefore, transferring my squad to York City was not merely a matter of filling a vacancy left by the eruption of the Cihe case.

The York City region possesses many squads of the Whip of Order, but they have languished in comfort for far too long. In my eyes, they are like a flock of ducks accustomed to frolicking in a clear stream.

In times of peace, the Whip of Order is chiefly responsible for internal surveillance; but in times of turmoil, the Whip of Order is meant to lash the outside world, ensuring they see clearly what true Order entails.

This is a magnificent opportunity. This squad of mine has been buried in obscurity for too long; at last, we are permitted to step onto the grand stage. I am confident those little ducks will stand no chance against us, for we are a pack of genuine hounds."

"Yes, Captain!"

Karen feigned an expression of profound inspiration and instantaneous confidence in the future.

Neo stood up. As he prepared to depart, he suddenly turned and inquired, "The white roses—have they been planted?"

"They will be planted today. When you go to see Miss Elisa tomorrow, Captain, you will be able to catch their fragrance."

Karen had already instructed Alfred, who remained in York City, to see to the matter today, while also delivering some provisions to old Saman, the cemetery keeper. He trusted that Alfred would execute these tasks flawlessly.

Neo nodded and walked out of the restaurant, his figure swiftly vanishing into the street beyond.

Karen requested a takeaway bag, placed the untouched food inside, rose, and stepped out of the establishment.

Marlo and Zema were still standing there in their police uniforms, smoking, utterly oblivious to the "No Smoking" sign posted near the adjacent gas station.

Seeing Karen emerge, Marlo smiled and inquired, "Come now, let us guess: did the Captain tell you the fable of the little ducks and the hounds?"

"Err..." Karen muttered.

Zema shifted his posture, drew a cigarette from his pack, and extended it to Karen,

saying:

"The Captain possesses two great passions. One is distributing rings made of plastic; I suspect he must have ordered a massive crate of them from a toy factory, because once, when I accidentally snapped my ring and went to him filled with guilt, he scolded me for failing to cherish it properly, then handed me a small box of replacements.

His other passion is repeatedly lecturing us with: 'Oh, we are the hounds, and they are all little ducks. The other squads of the Whip of Order are little ducks, the high authorities are a flock of ducks, and the other churches are ducks as well.' It is as though the entire world, save for us, is populated by nothing but little ducks that do nothing but quack."

Marlo produced a lighter to assist Karen. Rather than mentioning his attempt to quit smoking, Karen shielded the flame with his hand and lit the cigarette.

"Is he not the more amusing one?" After lighting Karen's cigarette, Marlo shrieked in a high voice, "Oh, Officer, sir, they meant to rob me! Hahahahaha!"

"Hahaha!" Zema doubled over with laughter.

Cullen offered a cooperative smile.

"Still, you should be careful. The others ate in a rush today to escort the prisoners back to the city, but Peg biết we have a new member, and she's quite interested in you."

"Interested in me?"

"Mhm, because the captain said you are very handsome, and that he recruited you specifically to help resolve her personal marriage issues."

"Uh..."

"So, where are you heading next?" Zema asked.

"I'm going to my girlfriend's house."

"Your girlfriend lives in the countryside?"

"Yes, her family isn't very well-off."

"Oh boy, I think Peg is going to be furious. She actually thanked the captain for this."

"It's fine, Peg should be used to it by now."

"No, she probably won't get used to it this time, because our new member really is quite handsome—just a tiny bit less than me."

"Alright, you should get going. See you next time."

"See you next time." Cullen bowed slightly to them, and both Marlo and Zema stepped aside.

Then, Cullen got into the car and handed the takeout bag to Kevin and Purr sitting in the back: "Have a quick bite first, it's still a ways to the Allen Manor."

"Is this the Whip of Order squad you mentioned?"

"Yes."

"Quite elite. Those two dressed as police officers, I even suspect they are already at the Inquisitor level."

"Is it that exaggerated?" Cullen asked.

"You could tell from the casual spells they used when they checked this car earlier. Besides, it's not too exaggerated. Realm, rank, and combat power have always been a chaotic mess; it's the same across all major churches.

By comparison, the family belief system is actually the best reference point."

"I felt it. When I killed those two from the Abyss Cult, it felt so easy."

"Oh, nonsense, the Armor of the Sea God and the Blade of the Dark Moon are both high-level spells that don't circulate outside at all. Furthermore, you learned them beyond your level. Most importantly, you had the two of us helping you transcribe them. By the time they passed through us, the steps had already been broken down for you; otherwise, you would still need to sit by the sea to comprehend the tides or sit on a mountain peak to admire the moon."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank us, you protected us too, didn't you?"

"Heh, the feeling of protecting you both is very nice."

Well, they must have peeked at his notebook.

...

By the time he drove to the Allen Manor, it was already dusk. Cullen's car was stopped by a squad of bodyguards at the outer perimeter of the estate, but after checking in, he was quickly granted passage. Then Cullen saw Old Anderson standing with Mr. Mike at the manor entrance to welcome him.

Without waiting for Cullen to get out of the car, they proactively boarded his vehicle first, guiding Cullen inside and parking the car behind the manor.

"Young Master Cullen, welcome back to your manor to rest," Old Anderson said, bowing.

Mr. Mike, pushing his wheelchair, also lowered his head.

"Where is Mr. Bede?" Cullen asked.

"He... he went out with a gentleman named Piaget. He told me this was your instruction."

"Mhm." Cullen took the blame for his father-in-law.

"Mr. Mike, how is your body feeling now?"

"Answering the young master, after the young master treated me last time, I have now broken through to the fourth level of the family belief system and have stabilized."

"Congratulations."

Mr. Mike had always been the most talented among the brothers. If he hadn't run into trouble while trying to follow in the Ancestor's footsteps, he would have reached the fourth level long ago. It was precisely because Purr recognized his talent as the best of a mediocre bunch that she was willing to expend the effort to treat him.

"This is all thanks to the young master's blessing."

"Tomorrow, I would like to ask Mr. Mike to guide me regarding my combat experience."

"Uh... alright, young master, it is my honor."

"Oh, right, Mr. Anderson."

"At your command, young master."

"On Second Street of the commercial district where the St. Thor Tower of York City is located, there is a Lemar Pottery Studio. You can send someone to negotiate with the shop owner and provide him with a supply of materials."

"Yes, I will send someone to make contact immediately."

"Mhm, alright, that's all."

"Young master, there is one more thing. Because the Raphael family was wiped out..."

Speaking to this point, the corner of Old Anderson's mouth sub-consciously curled upward. Nothing was more pleasant than waking up to find that a mortal enemy family had suddenly all died out.

"So, now the Allen family has taken back several workshops. I took the liberty in private not to fight for and swallow all of them, but instead released a few."

"Mhm, as for business matters, you just handle the control."

"Understood, young master."

"I'll head inside first." Cullen pointed toward the old castle, walking in while holding the gift box.

"Father's choice back then was correct," Mr. Mike lamented with emotion.

"Yes."

Old Anderson nodded.

Originally, the Allen Manor had to rely on hiding the strength of its family members to bluff and deceive the Raphael family. Even Mr. Bede, the clan head, was advertised as a powerhouse of the family belief system.

Now, the Raphael family was gone, and the next generation of youngsters in the Allen family—Borg, Judia, and his own granddaughter Eunice—had all displayed astonishing talent. In another five or ten years, the family wouldn't have to worry too much about its backbone strength. This period of low tide could be considered passed.

"Meow."

At this moment, Purr, riding Kevin, also got out of the car.

Looking at Purr wearing a hood and a bow tie, Old Anderson and Mr. Mike immediately lowered their heads to salute again.

However, Purr had no interest in paying attention to them, but instead extended a paw and pointed forward:

"Meow! Meow!" (Stupid dog, the kitchen!)

"Woof!"

...

As Cullen walked up the stairs, he stopped and saw Borg running up from below.

A child of this age, if you didn't see him for a while, you could clearly notice that he seemed to have grown taller.

"Young master, you're back."

"Mhm, have you been well lately?"

"Very well, but I want to go to the young master's side to serve."

"Your current task is to focus entirely on your cultivation. Once you reach the third level of the family's belief system, you may come to my side and assist me."

"Understood, Young Master. I will work as hard as I can."

"Very well. Where is Judia?"

"She has been staying at the cemetery. She has a small house there and spends her days guarding Count Recar's grave. I make sure to bring her food and drink every day. Shall I summon her to meet you, Young Master?"

"No need." Karen harbored little interest in that young girl who possessed such a fondness for boneless chicken feet.

At that moment, Karen approached Eunice's bedroom, outside of which several maids stood waiting.

"All of you may leave," Borge said, stepping forward.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

The maids withdrew, and Borge followed suit.

Karen pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside. Eunice was fast asleep upon the bed, clad in a black nightgown and covered by a blanket.

She wore no makeup, yet her exquisite features required no cosmetic enhancement to burden her natural beauty.

Furthermore, perhaps owing to the continuous awakening of her lineage, she now exuded an additional aura of elegant nobility.

Placing the gift upon the desk, Karen seated himself on the sofa nearby. He noticed a book resting on the coffee table, which unexpectedly turned out to be "The Somnolent Years." Karen had leafed through it out of sheer boredom in his own study at home, but for Eunice, this book clearly struck a far more profound and resonant chord.

Then, Karen discovered a basket beneath the coffee table, inside of which lay a nearly finished wallet, requiring only a few decorative clasps to be complete.

The leather purse was a silvery ash-grey, its material unrecognizable, yet it felt somewhat cool and comforting to the touch.

Opening it, he found a photograph of Eunice herself tucked inside.

Karen smiled.

He looked toward the still-sleeping Eunice. He did not know whether he truly loved her, but the feeling he experienced whenever he told others he had a girlfriend and a fiancée was something he found quite pleasant, for he was a man who dreaded loneliness.

After sitting for a while, Karen decided to finish reading the rest of the book.

Picking up "The Somnolent Years" and opening it, he discovered a passage written upon the flyleaf:

"I do not know whether I truly love him, but I feel that, during the brief moments of time I possess each day, having someone to yearn for is a form of happiness."