Chapter 26: Did You Steal My Money?

Chapter 26: Did You Steal My Money?

Kallen rose from his bed and walked toward the ward door.

Then, he halted, casting his gaze downward at Purr, who was pawing at his trouser leg.

Purr spoke up, "Are you certain you wish to go investigate the situation?"

"Hmm?"

"I merely mean that since Dis is not here, there is no need for you to rush out and display your benevolence."

"Me?"

"Indeed. Moreover, Dis is not truly a man of grand benevolence; he reserves his kindness solely for family. Consider this a friendly piece of advice."

"I shall remember that."

"Good boy."

"However, I never said I intended to go down and investigate."

With those words,

Kallen closed the ward door, then dragged a nearby cabinet over, wedging it firmly behind the door.

"I am merely afraid that whatever that thing is, it might barge in here after falling into a murderous frenzy."

Purr backed up a few paces,

remarking,

"As expected of a cold-blooded Aberrant."

"If I recall correctly, the room just two doors down houses the staircase to the basement. The distance is far too short."

"It is."

Kallen walked back to the bedside and sat down.

"Purr."

"I do not particularly care for the name you gave me. The pronunciation is quite peculiar."

"I find the name rather poetic."

"An artistic flair, then." Purr leaped back onto the bed. "By the way, there is something I have been quite curious about, and that is your language."

"My language?"

"Yes. For instance, what is the meaning of 'Ma Le Ge Bi De'?"

"It means roughly the same thing as locking you in a washroom with a wild tomcat."

"I understand now."

Purr lay on her side and began to groom her fur.

"There is also something I am curious about," Kallen inquired.

"Do tell."

"Can you fight?"

"Fight?" Purr replied with a hint of helplessness. "I was once quite a formidable fighter."

"How long ago does 'once' refer to?"

"Over a century ago."

"To think you could live so long."

"If you were transformed into a cat and lived for two hundred years, you would not envy it. When I first arrived at the Inmeles household, Dis was still a mere child. Now, even Dis's granddaughter, Mina, has begun using sanitary pads.

Ah, time flees."

"Could you perhaps refrain from using Mina as an example?"

"Very well, I shall change it. Last month, Lente learned how to use his own hand."

"Why is it still so quiet outside?" Kallen asked, bewildered.

"It seems she has not rushed up in a frenzy?" Purr mused. "Or perhaps you misheard?"

"It was too distinct. I could even hear the dialogue between them."

"Heh, truly marvelous. Even a Servant of God who has undergone a complete purification shouldn't possess such an exaggerated sense of perception as yours."

"Is 'Servant of God' a profession?"

"Within the Church of Order, it is indeed so, the lowest tier of the church. Of course, it is not the same thing as a priest in an ordinary church who enjoys eavesdropping on women's tales of infidelity."

"Which category does Dis belong to? What rank is an Inquisitor?"

Kallen recalled Alfred addressing Dis as Lord Inquisitor.

"The Purifier—the Servant of God;

The Questioner—the Divine Revelation;

The Reflector—the Divine Shepherd.

The fourth tier is the Inquisitor. He is the adjudicator for the Church of Order in Loga City. All Aberrants who violate the tenets of the Church of Order are the targets of his eradication.

Furthermore, Dis is no ordinary Inquisitor. I have watched him grow since he was a child. His talent is something even I find astonishing. Naturally, he is not without his flaws; for instance, he is somewhat lacking when it comes to respecting his elders."

"Are Servant of God, Divine Revelation, and Divine Shepherd official titles, or do they correspond to realms of power?"

"They correspond to degrees."

"Degrees?"

"Yes. Three distinct stages regarding the degree of mastery over the divine aura."

"The divine aura?"

"In truth, there is no such

"I do not know how I managed to do it."

"Do you even know what sort of existence the Church of Order truly is?"

"To maintain the gears of order, and to guard the light of order."

"No, no, no. Those are just the slogans for the outsiders. In truth, the God of Order himself very likely was not a living man."

"Not a living man?"

"That is how the doctrinal tales of the Church of Order describe him: the God of Order awoke and returned from the underworld. Another theory claims that the Lord of Light awakened the God of Order.

Do you know what kind of face the foundational organizations of the Church of Order present to the world?"

"Is it not a church?"

"It is a funeral parlor."

Hearing this, a sudden realization struck Karen. "I had thought the funeral parlor was the Inmmeles family business. It turns out to be church property."

"Because a vast portion of the Church of Order’s power acts upon corpses—or rather, it cannot exist apart from them.

To ordinary folk, when a person dies and becomes a corpse, they have degenerated entirely into a piece of dead matter. But in reality, it is not so. Even a dead body—and I do not mean only human corpses, but those of pigs, dogs, chickens, and ducks as well..."

Purr did not mention cats.

"The corpse itself possesses a lingering spirituality stored within the body, though it is not as active as when the person was alive. By awakening this spirituality, one can 'resurrect' the corpse to a certain degree.

However, the extent of this 'resurrection' is heavily dependent on the preservation of the corpse, the strength of the deceased during their lifetime, and the weight of their final obsessions.

Therefore, even if the corpse of an ordinary person can be resurrected, it is difficult for them to maintain clarity for long. They will either collapse into paralysis, or degenerate into a living corpse ruled solely by beastly instinct."

"Then is the resurrected corpse the same as the person was when they were alive?"

"Of course not. It is merely a vessel retaining a fragment of your memories. In truth, it is no longer you, though the vessel itself might well believe it still is."

Karen attempted to translate and digest Purr's words.

By conventional understanding, a human being was a symbiosis of soul and flesh, but in truth, the flesh also stored a portion of the soul, akin to a kind of cellular memory.

After death, one could awaken those cellular memories to make the person "awaken" once more.

"Karen, do you know? To make a dead corpse 'resurrect' is an ability possessed only by Inquisitors. Without this ability, one does not even have the qualification to be granted the title of Inquisitor."

"Me...?"

"So, do you still claim you are not an aberrant demon?" Purr stood up and leaned in close to Karen's face. "I suspect that when you were summoned, a gap occurred in your soul's memories, causing you to forget certain things. Yet your instincts remain powerful, manifesting whenever you grow careless."

"You are overthinking it. My memories are perfectly intact."

"True enough. You even remember an entirely unfamiliar language; there is no reason for your memory to be damaged. That leaves only one other possibility."

"What possibility?"

"Could it be that you, like the legendary God of Order, are also... a person who has returned from the dead?"

"I..."

Before Karen could answer,

Purr herself let out a laugh that sounded like a cat's mewing.

"Because half of the Order Church’s abilities are connected to corpses. Although other branches have been developed over the countless years, the oldest and most orthodox system has always dealt with the dead.

If the God of Order was an entity that returned from the dead, then would the system he passed down not be most suited precisely for someone who has also returned from the dead?

Take the perception of a corpse’s spirituality, for instance. Because a person who has returned from the dead would not even need to purify it to achieve resonance with that spirituality; he is both a living man and a bearer of the identity of the deceased.

Hahaha, what on earth am I thinking? How could such a person exist in this world? If you were such a person, would that not mean you are the reincarnation of the God of Order?

So,

are you,

your great and supreme Highness Karen?"

"I am... not."

I am merely a psychological counselor with a decent income from his own private clinic.

"Tsk, tsk. Then how else to explain this damned ability of yours? The indispensable skill of an Inquisitor. Even if you do not know how to control it yet, facts prove you possess it.

It is just like how Lunt is a virgin, yet he undoubtedly possesses the capacity for erection."

"Your analogy is a bit too..."

"Having lived this long, what is there left to be shy about?"

"You were quite shy just a moment ago."

"I am merely unaccustomed to that posture, damn it!"

After a period of silence,

Karen spoke up to ask:

"Purr."

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Diss will let me join the Church as well?"

If he truly possessed this sort of talent, joining the Church, becoming a part of the Church of Order, and gaining access to this system of upward cultivation would surely yield twice the result with half the effort, would it not?

"Have you finally revealed your ambition and intent?" Purr laughed. "Though I would still advise you to rid your mind of the thought. Diss would never allow his descendants to enter the Church again. Because—well, let us say it is because of you—the death of your parents was a heavy blow to Diss.

Furthermore, Diss has grown weary of the Inmmeles family’s inheritance of the Order Church branch. He intends to let it end with his generation."

"Is that so."

"So, forget about joining the Church. It is utterly impossible. Even now, as I speak to you, I do not even know if I am chatting with a wicked god.

Perhaps, in your eyes, I am nothing more than a tender, cute, and innocent little kitten."

"That much is true."

Karen stood up and looked outside the ward. Everything was as usual.

He leaned closer to the ward door, peering out through the glass, and found the doctors, nurses, and patients outside going about their business normally as well.

"Did I mishear? Or was it an auditory hallucination?"

"Is there still a sound now?" Purr asked.

"No more."

"Then perhaps you simply misheard?"

Karen looked at Purr and suggested, "How about you go down to the basement to take a look?"

Purr's ears pricked up, flattened, pricked up again, and flattened once more.

She said:

"Are you joking with me?"

"You dare not?"

"I am very weak right now. Oh no, I have already been weak for over a century."

"Then why did Diss send you to protect me?" Cullen asked, unable to comprehend. "Are you saying you actually can't fight?"

"I can see aberrants. If you had taken me along for barbecue that night, I would have spotted her abnormality ahead of time, and that would have been enough. Diss's intention was for me to warn you early so you could run for your life, not for you to leave while I held the rear."

"By comparison, Alfred and Madam Molly are much better suited for that sort of thing."

"Of course, if those aberrant auras are harmless to you, I can just pretend I didn't see them."

"Then you really are quite useless."

"Though I don't understand that word, I gather it doesn't differ much from being a piece of trash?"

"Let's put it more politely."

Cullen pushed the cabinet back into place, then walked over to the bedside and pressed the call button.

A moment later, Mina walked in.

"What is it, Cullen? Would you like to order lunch?"

"I thought I heard a sound from below just now." Cullen pointed beneath his feet.

Mina looked down at the floor tiles, immediately realized what lay beneath, and smiled.

"How could that be?"

"It's true. And what I heard was a scream—it sounded like a female doctor or nurse. I hope you'll send someone down to the basement to check."

Mina nodded and said, "Alright, I'll go have a look."

Cullen reached out, took Mina's hand, and cautioned her.

"It might be dangerous down there. It's best to ask the security guards or a male doctor to go down and check. Don't go yourself, I'm afraid you might be in danger."

If something happened to anyone else, Cullen wouldn't care.

If something happened to Mina, Cullen would care.

It wasn't because he had any special feelings for Mina; if he truly did, he wouldn't have brought up helping his aunt wipe down corpses during their earlier chat in the garden.

But at least Mina had spoken with him and they shared a connection. As for those with whom he had no connection and whose names he didn't even know... if something happened to them, so be it.

Though Mina felt Cullen was acting a bit paranoid, she was deeply touched by his concern. She nodded and said, "Alright, I'll call the security guard on duty to go down and check."

"Alright."

Mina left.

Cullen closed the ward door again. After a moment's hesitation, he decided against pulling the cabinet back.

About twenty minutes later, Mina knocked and entered once more.

"Did you find anything?" Cullen asked.

"No, everything is perfectly normal in the basement."

"No signs of blood or a body?" Cullen pressed.

"There are bodies, of course, because the morgue is down there, but there's no blood. Besides, the director led a team down there earlier, and they accounted for all the medical staff on duty. No one is missing."

"Then... then perhaps I just had a nightmare."

"Yes, your body is still recovering, and nightmares happen sometimes. It's quite normal."

"Alright, I understand."

"What about lunch? What would you like to have for lunch?"

Cullen was staying in a VIP ward, so he could order from a menu for the hospital kitchen to prepare specially, though there wouldn't be any truly exotic dishes.

"Meow."

"Fried dried fish."

"Ah, alright."

"Meow."

"Pudding."

"Yes, alright."

"Meow."

"Goat's milk."

"Alright, anything else?"

"Curry rice, no fruit."

"You must eat fruit," Mina said earnestly.

"Alright, alright."

"Once it's ready, I'll bring it over to you."

"Thank you for your trouble."

After Mina left, Purr lay comfortably on the bed, wagging her tail.

"Cullen, if you can help me order food every day from now on instead of making me eat that wretched cat food, I might change my opinion of you just a tiny bit."

"Can't you talk?"

"You're the exception. If I spoke to anyone else in the family and Diss found out, Diss would surely kill me."

"Heh, so a bit of food is all it takes to buy you over?"

"Why don't you try eating cat food for a hundred years straight and see how it feels? Besides, as long as I don't have to keep eating cat food, even if you really were an evil god, you'd be a benevolent one in my eyes."

Cullen rubbed his ears. "I really did hear a conversation and a scream."

"You'd better pray it was just an auditory hallucination. If it wasn't, it might be the prelude to losing your mind. That's how the descent into madness begins for some clergymen."

"I'm not a clergyman."

"You are more sensitive than they are. The boundary between a genius and a madman is sometimes nothing more than a piece of dried fish."

An hour later, lunch was delivered.

Purr ate with great satisfaction, and under Mina's insistence, Cullen finished his fruit as well.

At noon, all was quiet.

In the afternoon, all was quiet.

At dusk, all was quiet.

Night fell, and still, all remained quiet.

"Aren't you going to sleep yet? Ample sleep will help your injuries heal," Purr said.

"I know."

"Any more sounds?"

"No, not a single one since noon."

"That's good then. Don't worry about it anymore, go to sleep."

Cullen got out of bed and walked over to the ward door.

Through the glass, he could see that apart from the light still burning over at the nurses' station, there were no other signs of life outside.

Nevertheless, Cullen went ahead and dragged the cabinet behind the door, adding a mop from the bathroom to brace against the doorknob for good measure.

His preparations complete, Cullen lay back down in bed and closed his eyes.

Having skipped his afternoon nap, and because Pu'er’s advice about sleep aiding bodily recovery was indeed true, it wasn't long after closing his eyes that Cullen drifted off.

As he slept on,

deep within a dream,

he seemed to hear that rustling, scratching sound once more;

was he hallucinating again?

A heavy drowsiness led Cullen to push back against the noise.

"My money... my money... my money..."

Damn it!

Cullen cursed in his mind and kept trying to sleep.

The speaking voice faded away.

But in its wake came a scraping noise, like someone using their fingers to dig through something, accompanied by the constant sound of dust and debris showering down.

Cullen paid it no mind; as long as it wasn't a voice talking, he could bear it, remembering his past life as an entrepreneur when he rented a high-rise apartment beside an elevated highway, falling asleep every night to the roar of heavy trucks.

"Scratch, scratch..."

"Scratch, scratch..."

"Scratch, scratch..."

The sound seemed to be drawing closer, growing clearer.

Somewhat helplessly, Cullen opened his eyes.

He first reached out to nudge Pu'er, who lay curled up by his pillow with her backside facing him, but to his surprise, no matter how much he nudged the black cat, she wouldn't wake, acting less like a living creature and more like a stuffed ragdoll sharing his bed.

"Pu'er, Pu'er, listen, what's that sound? It feels like it's getting closer."

Pu'er remained motionless.

Did cats really sleep this soundly?

Cullen propped himself up and patted Pu'er on the back again, only to find she was still completely still, offering no response.

"Scratch, scratch..."

The sound,

it was beneath the bed.

Cullen hoisted himself up on his arms, leaning past Pu'er to dangle his upper body off the edge of the bed, but he found nothing unusual.

Turning his head to glance at the ward door, the cabinet was still behind it and the mop remained firmly wedged; all was secure.

"Scratch, scratch..."

Yet the sound continued to draw closer.

Just then,

Cullen refocused his attention onto the floor tiles beneath the bed, leaning his body further forward, using one hand against the floorboards to maintain his balance and keep the bed from pressing against the wound on his chest.

At this precise moment, his face was actually very close to the tile, barely a hand's span away.

Then,

"Clatter..."

It sounded as though something had broken loose, or as if a passage had finally been dug through.

And in the very floor tile right in front of Cullen's face,

a hole suddenly ruptured open, the rebar and concrete visible along its jagged edges.

As if possessed,

Cullen moved his face closer to the opening, trying to look down inside;

he saw the floor below, where gurneys stood lined up, some bearing figures draped beneath white sheets.

All of a sudden,

the face of an old woman, deeply rutted with wrinkles, abruptly filled the hole,

and asked Cullen:

"Oh, did you steal my money?"