Chapter 194: The Seal of the Evil God

Chapter 194: The Evil God's Seal

Karen was thoroughly curious about how such a rumor had managed to spread.

Yet, it did not take long for him to realize that this particular piece of gossip had likely been disseminated by the captain himself. It was a calculated move, perhaps, to elevate the prestige of his own squad, ensuring they held a decisive advantage when competing for premium, high-yield missions in the future.

This was precisely the sort of thing the captain was capable of doing. At times, he was distant and cold, resembling an elegant pianist entirely immersed in a solitary world; at other times, he grew exceedingly loquacious, cornering you to recount the story of the hound and the ducklings over and over again.

There were occasions when his appetite for profit was rapacious. In the midst of a mission, he would pursue the maximization of gain at any cost, yet upon securing massive fortunes, he possessed the sheer audacity to hand out entire boxes of worthless plastic rings as gifts.

Karen had long suspected that the captain suffered from a form of split personality, and the portrait discovered in the basement of the pottery studio served as the ultimate testament to his affliction.

Nevertheless, the propaganda had undeniably achieved its purpose, for his cousin was now single-mindedly intent on joining Neo’s squad.

Although the official roster of the squad was strictly limited to one captain and twelve members, the number of unofficial, off-budget members remained entirely unrestricted.

Furthermore, recruiting a member with a prominent lineage like Richard into the squad, even if only as a nominal presence, would naturally grant the team’s future development a distinct advantage, securing favor and consideration from numerous quarters.

Not every squad harbored resentment toward pampered young masters descending from above to gild their reputations; it largely depended on whether there was a sufficient exchange of mutual benefits.

Nearby, Richard’s campaign to persuade his grandfather pressed onward:

"Grandfather, think about it! If only you had consented earlier and allowed me to join that squad, it might very well be your own great-grandson currently growing inside the belly of the Princess of Dark Moon Island!"

Karen found himself utterly speechless.

Yet beneath his silence, he suddenly found a strange sliver of logic in the claim.

Although Ophelia was not actually pregnant, if the rumors were true and she were indeed carrying a child, that child would truly be the grandson of the old gentleman sitting right before him.

"You are talking absolute nonsense now." Delon said, rendered somewhat helpless by his grandson. He turned his gaze toward Karen, offering a mild reminder, "Aren't you afraid of being ridiculed by your friend?"

"If you don't believe me, ask him yourself! Hey, Karen, if you were given the chance, would you want to join Neo's Whip of Order squad?"

Karen offered a somewhat constrained smile, answering in a low, modest voice, "If I were fortunate enough to have the opportunity to join the Whip of Order, I would be deeply satisfied. I would not dare to be selective."

"Listen to what your friend says. As for you, you are simply..."

Delon had originally intended to use Karen's words to humble Richard, chastising him for failing to appreciate his own blessings. Yet for reasons unknown, halfway through his sentence, as he looked upon Karen sitting there with a slightly awkward expression, an inexplicable wave of profound sympathy welled up within his heart.

Richard, meanwhile, stared at Karen with wide eyes. He knew this newly made friend of his was merely putting on an act, given how entirely casual the youth had been when they were alone earlier.

"Grandfather, help me, I beg of you, Grandfather. Just think, when your grandson is known far and wide as the Little Hound in the future, how much pride it will bring to your face."

"If my grandson is called a little dog, does that not make me an old dog?"

"No, Grandfather, it is an adjective! An adjective!" Richard pleaded, clutching Delon's shoulders. "Grandfather, I want to grow. I want to become the kind of man who carries true responsibility."

Karen lifted his teacup and took a slow sip of water.

Witnessing this scene, his thoughts drifted to his own grandfather. Dis, too, had always granted his every request.

Delon’s face remained solemn, his lips sealed in silence.

Richard continued his fervent entreaties.

Karen closely observed Delon’s expression, a trace of doubt rising in his mind: Could it be that this matter had already been settled?

Right at that moment, the doorbell chimed.

Karen stood up, gesturing that he would answer it. Richard flashed Karen a grateful smile, seizing the brief window of time to renew his assault upon his grandfather.

Walking to the foyer, Karen opened the door to find the figure standing outside—Neo.

Neo seemed somewhat surprised to encounter Karen there, offering a teasing remark, "So, you are the grandson of the Guman family?"

"Richard and I are friends," Karen replied, choosing not to explicitly clarify that they had only met today.

"What a coincidence."

"Yes, quite a coincidence."

Neo was in no hurry to step inside. Instead, he drew out a slip of black paper. Without any visible folding on his part, the paper seemed to fold itself into the shape of a crow before taking flight from the palm of Neo's hand.

Karen made a mental note that this particular spell was one he ought to learn.

"Vannie is reviewing the squad roster, and you are the only one missing. I am reporting your status to her, lest everyone assumes you were crushed to death inside the Academic Affairs Building."

Neo explained as he pulled a small box from his pocket. Selecting a single plastic ring from the dense, orderly rows inside, he slipped it onto his finger.

"It was indeed a close call, Captain. You left your mask behind at the cemetery. I had intended to go to the Academic Affairs Building to leave it in your office, but the moment I parked my car, the building collapsed."

The mask Neo had left behind was the standard black mask of the Whip of Order squad, not the peculiar masks from the pottery studio.

"That mask is of no use now. I had Vannie commission a new batch of masks—not black, but silver, three for each person, crafted from special materials. You can collect them from Vannie, or she will bring them to you during the next mission. The reason for the change is that we noticed every other squad in York City wears black, and we wish to distinguish ourselves from that flock of ducklings."

As Neo spoke, he gestured toward his own face with a finger:

"There is no need to make a special trip for such trivial matters in the future. How valuable could an object like a mask possibly be?"

"Yes, I understand, Captain. However, regarding the matter of the Academic Affairs Building, Captain, do you know the underlying cause?"

"I was not involved, but I overheard a few things. It seems they intended to use the meeting as an opportunity to apprehend an apostate, or rather, an insider traitor. Yet no matter how meticulous the arrangements were, a flaw emerged in the end, allowing him to trigger the internal spatial array of the Academic Affairs Building before his demise, causing this chaos.

Mmh, it involves a colleague of the elderly gentleman inside—from the very same department. He was the deputy director, while the apostate was the director."

"An insider traitor..."

Neo brought his face slightly closer to Karen, lowering his voice to a whisper, "The more a place emphasizes faith, the easier it is for an insider traitor with unshakeable convictions to emerge."

Karen looked at Neo and silently stepped aside.

Neo walked past him, and Karen followed him back into the living room.

"Greetings, my Lord."

Delon gestured toward Neo, turning to his grandson, "Very well, cease your pestering. Your captain has arrived."

"Captain?" Richard snapped his head around to look at Neo standing in the living room. "You... You are Captain Neo?"

"I am."

Richard’s hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched, betraying his immense nervousness.

Delon spoke up, "This grandson of mine is now entrusted to you. Pray afford him your care."

"The honor is entirely mine, and that of my squad. However, as my squad currently remains at full capacity, I cannot grant him an official position. For now, he can only serve as an unofficial member, though he will join us on missions."

"That is perfectly fine." Delon dismissed the matter of official status with indifference; the Guman family had no reason to concern themselves with mere administrative slots.

"Please rest assured, it has been several missions since anyone has perished. I expect it will happen soon, and an official vacancy should open up."

Delon's expression stiffened slightly, but when he glanced at his grandson, he found the youth's face alight with even greater excitement.

Neo turned to face Richard, slipping a ring off his finger and extending it outward.

With overwhelming reverence, Richard accepted the ring with both hands.

Standing to the side, Karen felt a profound sense of familiarity gazing upon this scene. He could only hope that Richard would cherish the ring properly and refrain from bending it with too much force.

"A new Academic Affairs Building should be established very soon. When the time comes, go and have your files processed."

"Understood, Captain. I shall attend to it as soon as the Academic Affairs Building reopens."

"Mmh, very well."

Neo turned his gaze back to Delon, saying, "My Lord, I shall take my leave now."

"You may stay a while longer to converse with my grandson; he admires you greatly," Delon remarked.

"I still have things to attend to," Neo declined with blunt directness.

Delon nodded. "Then run along and mind your business."

As Neo took his leave, Karen remained behind in the living room.

Richard approached Karen, holding the ring with utmost care, and asked, "Karen, don’t you think Captain Neo's style just now was incredibly admirable? My grandfather asked him to stay, and he just said he had business and walked out. I'm so excited that I get to follow a captain like him."

"Congratulations," Karen said with a smile.

I guarantee that when the captain tells you the story of the little ducks, you will be even more excited.

Delon stood up.

"Grandfather, are you leaving?"

"The business here is done, why should I stay? Your grandmother is home alone, and I am anxious about her."

"I'll go see Grandmother tomorrow."

"Just tend to your own matters. If there's a mission, listen to your captain when you execute it. In a pack of hunting dogs, there is no room for a little white rabbit."

"Grandfather, your grandson is no little white rabbit. Just you wait and see."

Delon's gaze fell upon Karen once more. This young man, who seemed to be around the same age as his grandson, wore a long black robe. Even just standing there, he exuded an aura that made people feel entirely at ease.

"Karen, isn't it?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Richard has many friends, but if I remember correctly, this is the very first time he has brought a friend home. In the past, even with his girlfriends, he never brought them back to the house. Since the two of you hit it off so well, be good friends. If anything comes up in the future, you can have Richard come find me."

"Many thanks, My Lord."

Karen knew this was nothing more than diplomatic courtesy.

"Grandfather, let me see you out." Richard escorted Delon to the door, showing himself to be an exceedingly attentive grandson.

Once Richard returned, Karen said to him, "It's getting late. I ought to take my leave as well."

"No rush, sit a while longer. Come, let me take you up to my father's study."

"Is that really necessary?"

"It makes it official this way."

Grasping Karen by the arm, Richard practically forced him upstairs. Previously, Karen had only used the second-floor washroom to bathe and hadn't entered any rooms. Richard unlocked a study on the second floor and invited Karen inside.

"Make yourself at home. This study used to belong to my grandfather. To look after my grandmother's health, he moved to a place near the outskirts of York City that has hot springs for recuperation. This study nominally belongs to my father now, but he rarely comes home and seldom uses it."

Karen scanned the books on the shelves.

"If there's a book you like, just take it," Richard offered generously.

"No need."

"Do you like playing chess?"

"No."

"Cards?"

"No."

"Drinking? There's a wine cellar in the basement."

"No."

"Without any hobbies, how do you expect to fit in? A man shouldn't be too aloof." Richard leaned his back against the bookshelf, studying Karen. "With that detached attitude of yours, how do you get along with people? Look at me now, I’ve already prepared myself to integrate into my new squad."

Karen smiled faintly. To get along with them, one didn't need to know how to play chess, cards, or drink; one only needed to be perverted enough.

"Don't worry, once I've made a name for myself, I'll help pull you into the Whip of Order. You work at the Inquisitorial Office—isn't that basically running a funeral parlor?"

"Yes. Would you care to come and experience it?"

"Heh," Richard replied dismissively, "I will attend the funerals of the people I kill with my own hands. I am already prepared. Once I join the squad, the very first target I slay myself, I will arrange a grand funeral for him. But the funeral won't be burying him—do you know what it will be burying?"

"It will bury your naive past."

"Oh, heavens, that response of yours is just so incredibly satisfying. I suddenly realize I misunderstood you before. There's no need to be constantly enthusiastic like me; if you're too warm, people won't cherish it. But someone like you, maintaining a cold and proper demeanor and occasionally dropping a line like that—the effect is magnificent."

Karen didn't bother to indulge him further, turning his attention instead to another group photograph hanging in the study. In this photo, there were only three young people: "his own" mother, her brother, and her sister.

"You seem to have a persistent interest in my family photos."

"Yes, seeing what the two Lord Inquisitors looked like in their youth feels quite extraordinary."

"What's so rare about being an Inquisitor? To outsiders, it might seem out of reach, but within our own circle, it's just ordinary."

"Because you possess it, you do not cherish it."

"Perhaps. Actually, I’ve always been very curious about this eldest aunt of mine. Though Grandfather and Father both say she is dead, I feel she isn't. She might have run away from home. Although the bodies of Church members are reclaimed after death, a tombstone is usually erected, yet I have never seen anyone in the family pay respects to her."

There should be a story woven into this. "His own" mother left home, then vanished, only to surface later in the Inmeles family, marrying "his own" father and giving birth to "him."

But it shouldn't be quite like the case with Puer. Seeing her photographs displayed so openly in so many places around the house, it likely wasn't a total rupture with the family.

Puer only received the treatment of a revered ancestor because it returned after more than a century. If it had returned after only a few years away from home, the reception would have been entirely different.

Richard brewed another pot of tea, insisting on keeping Karen in the study to drink tea as though they were discussing some monumental affair.

Finally, seeing that it was indeed getting too late, Karen took his leave once more. This time, Richard didn't press him to stay and escorted Karen to the garage.

"I'm terribly sorry for dragging you into such a long conversation," Richard said.

"It's fine. I quite enjoyed chatting with you." Karen stepped into the car. "Well then, until next time."

"The next time you see me, I'll likely be wearing a black mask on my face. I hope you won't be frightened by my dark and cold aura."

It has been changed; it is a silver mask now.

Karen smiled at him, started the car, and backed out of the garage.

Richard turned around to head upstairs, lightly tapping his own forehead with his hand.

"What on earth is this cursed sense of familiarity all about?"

...

On the drive back, Karen hesitated for a moment before veering toward Sycamore Street once again. Police cordons blocked the outer roads; cars could drive out, but there was no way to drive back in.

Karen didn't care to use his credentials to go inside and look around. He turned a corner and drove in the direction of the Blue Bridge Community instead.

When he arrived home, it was the dead of night once more.

Karen felt a touch helpless. Returning home so late every single day had completely upended his sleep schedule.

Just as he parked the car, Karen saw Alfred walking out.

"Young Master, you've returned."

"Why are you still waiting up?" Karen asked, puzzled. He had told Alfred he would be back late. Though the underlying purpose behind those words had changed, the outcome remained the same.

What a pity about Mr. Gray and Mr. Wind. He had originally intended to converse with them further to ascertain his current level of strength, but that would have to wait for another appointment.

"Young Master, following your instructions, I have located the section in Mr. Hoffen's notes regarding the unsealing of Kevin. Please have a look, Young Master."

Alfred handed over a black notebook, a bookmark neatly slipped between its pages.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Karen asked.

"I would strongly advise the young master to read it now," Alfred replied.

"Very well, let's head to the study."

Karen took the notebook and stepped into the study, where Alfred switched on the lights for him.

Just then, Kevin slipped into the room as well, taking a seat right before Karen’s desk. Panting with an open mouth and an honest, silly grin, his completely bald canine head looked rather comical.

"Where is Pu'er?" Karen sat down and inquired. "Asleep?"

Usually, whenever he returned late at night, Pu'er would come to greet him riding atop Kevin's back.

"After recovering a portion of its power, it grew far too excited. This afternoon, it was gleefully using fireballs to heat the boiler, only to end up overexerting itself and falling into a deep slumber."

"Heh." Karen shook his head with a chuckle, finding the mental image reminiscent of his own early days learning magical arts. "Oh, by the way, Alfred, could you help me find the spells 'Black Fog Walk' and 'Paper Crow'? I want to find some time to learn them after I wake up tomorrow. Hopefully, they aren't too difficult."

"You must be joking, young master."

Karen opened the notebook, turning directly to where the bookmark rested. From this point onward, Mr. Hoffen had meticulously detailed the methodology and principles he utilized to seal the evil god.

After browsing for a moment, Karen decided to skip ahead to look at the solution steps first.

He flipped through over forty pages, nearly reaching the end, before finally spotting