Chapter 310: Secret!

Chapter 310: The Secret!

After partaking in pastries and tea, Ventura escorted Karen and Alfred to the apartment threshold as they prepared to depart.

"Convey my gratitude to your grandmother once more; her pastries were precisely to my taste."

"Thank you, she will be absolutely delighted to hear your praise."

Once they parted ways, Karen and Alfred settled into the carriage.

"Young Master, the savior of Ventura's family was actually Master Dis."

Alfred had recognized it as well; after all, he was an opponent who had once fought Dis to a standstill.

"Yes."

"In that case, it is only natural for Ventura to become your subordinate in the future, Young Master."

"No, nothing is merely natural. Grandfather likely helped them back then for the sake of an experiment. Although the ultimate result benefited them, in essence, it was an equal exchange between both parties.

Their gratitude is their own affair; there is no need for us to plaster the label of savior upon our own faces.

Furthermore, Grandfather's affairs must not be made public."

"Young Master's consideration is wise."

"Very well, let us return home. I wish to rest a while."

...

The following afternoon, Karen sat in the study, reading a book while sipping ice water, when the telephone rang.

"Hello, Pavaro Funeral Parlor."

"Karen," the Captain's voice drifted from the receiver, "I nearly forgot to congratulate you on passing the selection."

"What is the matter, Captain? Please speak freely."

Karen was not so naive as to believe the Captain had genuinely forgotten his congratulations and made this specific call for that reason alone.

"It is like this: I am currently leading most of the squad on a mission in Sunpu City."

"Why was I not informed?"

"We set out late last night. Thinking you still needed to prepare for the final selection and fearing it might affect you, I chose not to notify you. Right, the specific date has been released. The day after tomorrow at eight in the morning, you will still go to the Academic Building to enter the selection grounds via the teleportation array. Remember the time."

"Understood, I have noted it down."

"However, there is one more thing I require your assistance with. I simply cannot spare any hands at the moment."

"Captain, please speak."

"Go to the Requel Theater in the Southern District and retrieve an item for me. The performance begins at seven in the evening. You can purchase a ticket to enter and seek out an actor named Hiddink. Tell him the Hound sent you to collect the cargo, and he will hand the item over to you.

I do not know what kind of container he used to pack it, but if you are curious, you may open it and take a look when the time comes. It matters not."

"Understood, Captain. I shall attend to it."

"Yes, I appreciate you making the trip. I would not feel at ease leaving that item for anyone else to retrieve."

"I will fetch it. By the way, Captain, have you visited the Lemar Pottery Workshop yet?"

"I have. It was still early, was it not? I sent Memphis to watch over that pottery workshop last night."

"Memphis?"

"Yes, I originally intended to arrange for Richard to go, but Richard's legs are currently... inconvenient."

"His legs... inconvenient?"

"It seems his legs were broken."

"This..."

"Therefore, it is temporarily inconvenient for Memphis to remain at home, so I dispatched him to the pottery workshop."

"Very well, I understand, Captain."

"Let us leave it at that for now. I must begin the apprehension operation here this evening and need to rest first."

"Understood."

Hanging up the telephone, Karen stepped out of the study. Inside the warehouse, Alfred, Purr, and Kevin were conducting a tempering experiment, preparing to officially commence work on that egg.

Thus, Karen did not call Alfred to accompany him. Walking into the front hall, he saw Pick and Dincomb sitting there, reading newspapers.

Karen beckoned to Pick, "Pick, come out with me."

"Yes, Boss."

Under Dincomb’s envious gaze, Pick slid into the driver's seat to chauffeur his boss.

Since it was far too early for the performance, Karen did not head to the Requel Theater first, but instead arrived at the Lemar Pottery Workshop.

Pick remained in the car to wait. After stepping out, Karen pushed open the door and entered the workshop. Just as he stepped inside, he saw Memphis sitting there before a potter's wheel, crafting a piece of pottery.

Seeing Karen arrive, Memphis instinctively began to stand up.

"No, no, no, carry on, carry on. Do not delay your work."

Memphis remained seated, carefully using his hands to control the angle.

"Where is Mr. Lemar?" Karen inquired.

"He just went out to purchase dinner," Memphis replied.

"When did you arrive?"

"The Captain sent me here last night. It just so happened that my home was no longer a convenient place to stay."

"Richard..."

"Both of his legs are broken."

Karen pursed his lips and said, "My apologies. If I had been more resolute back then, he would have secured a spot."

Yet, even if he had failed the selection, surely he should not have been beaten so severely?

When had the Guman family's discipline become so draconian?

In truth, the reason Richard possessed such a lax demeanor was because he had faced little pressure since childhood; his family was very indulgent with him, especially after his parents separated.

"Hmm?" Memphis realized Karen had misunderstood. "It was not because of the selection. He committed another offense."

"Another offense? What offense?"

Memphis hesitated slightly, for this error was not an easy one to speak aloud. However, out of deference to "Karen's status," Memphis decided to conceal nothing and said, "He used my name to open a tab along the pastry shop street."

Karen blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably. To prevent himself from laughing aloud, he could only open his mouth and let out a few sighs.

Well, those two broken legs were thoroughly deserved.

Karen even wondered if Richard had invited Memphis to the pastry shop yesterday just to have him declare his title as "Master Eisen," directly pouring oil onto the fire to snap his own legs.

"He is still young."

Memphis spoke, "He is actually no longer..."

"A few more beatings will set him straight."

Memphis froze for a moment, then nodded, "It has its uses."

"His talent is exceptional, yet it has not fully ripened; I believe he requires a sense of urgency."

"Yes, I understand, I know—this is my failing. For personal reasons, I neglected to drive him forward."

"But one must also look to the method. Breaking his legs, while curable through magic and restorable by the insect within him, is simply too unsightly. Furthermore, if you keep thrashing his flesh, he will likely grow accustomed to it before long, and heaven forbid, even derive pleasure from it."

"What do you mean?"

"Certain mental sorceries are quite excellent; they torment the soul without leaving a scar, while helping to unlock his latent potential."

"You speak with great reason!"

Just then, Monsieur Lemar returned bearing the dishes, a smile lighting his face the instant he spotted Karen. "You have not dined yet, I presume?"

"Not yet."

"Together then, together!"

Monsieur Memphis finally abandoned his half-finished creations and washed his hands, and the three of them sat by the counter to partake of supper, Lemar pausing halfway to set some aside for Pick, who remained in the carriage.

When the simple meal was finished, Karen went to steal another glance at Serena. She sat upon her bedroom mattress, utterly motionless, still bound within her "locked" state. Karen spoke a few words of encouragement to her, and having fulfilled his courtesies, stepped out of the bedchamber.

Monsieur Memphis had spent the previous night here, and would likely do so again tonight.

Karen surmised that the man had probably revealed the truth only to him, whereas the excuse given to his own family for thrashing Richard was merely that Richard had failed the selection. To beat Richard so wretchedly under such a pretext would surely invite resentment from the household, making it inconvenient for him to return home for the time being; thus, he simply lodged here.

With a master Inscriber holding the fort, Karen felt certain the pottery shop would be exceedingly secure.

Taking his leave, Karen boarded the carriage and instructed Pick to drive to the Requiel Theater.

The theater bore no overhanging signboard; in truth, it was tucked away in an alley, its sign stood upright beside the entrance, where an old man sat collecting the admission fee of five rails a ticket.

Karen purchased a single ticket and stepped inside; the space was small but the crowd was substantial, and though a quarter-hour remained before the curtain rose, some twenty-odd patrons were already seated.

The theater primarily revolved around storytelling, yet it was nothing like the stand-up comedy of later generations; the tales told here were generally rather unseemly, consisting mostly of fabricated private scandals, firmly belonging to the realm of the ribald.

Karen had no intention of listening to stories here and walked straight to the backstage; the performers' dressing room was tiny, accommodating a mere three stools, where two men were busy applying their makeup.

"Excuse me, is Hiddink here?"

"That is me. What is it?"

"The Hound sent me to fetch the cargo."

"Very well, wait a moment."

The middle-aged actor knelt down, pried loose a few bricks, and retrieved an iron box from within, handing it over to Karen.

The iron box was heavily rusted, its faded patterns still bearing the words "Children's Sweets."

Karen gave Hiddink a nod and turned to leave with the object.

"Hey, hold on a moment!" Hiddink called out to stop him.

"What is it?"

"Where are the vouchers?"

"Vouchers?"

"The remaining balance of five thousand Order Vouchers!"

Hearing this sudden twist, Karen found that he did not feel the slightest bit surprised; this was indeed exactly the sort of thing the Captain would do.

"I do not carry so many vouchers on my person. Tell you what, I shall have someone deliver the vouchers to you shortly."

"That will not do, that is unacceptable! You must give me the vouchers before I can let you take the thing away!"

As he spoke, Hiddink stepped forward, intending to snatch the box back.

Alas.

Left with no alternative, Karen sighed.

He could only summon the Chains of Order, binding Hiddink’s feet to the floor.

Hiddink attempted to seize Karen, only to find himself standing there unable to move an inch; instantly, cold sweat drenched his face, as though discerning Karen’s identity, and he dared struggle no longer.

"Forget the vouchers, take the item, please take it."

"The vouchers will be sent to you shortly; you shall not be cheated."

This was a transaction between the Captain and another man, and Karen would not embezzle the funds, though he knew full well that once these five thousand Order Vouchers were paid on his behalf, the hope of ever recovering them from the Captain was slim.

Karen turned, walked out of the theater, and upon settling into the carriage, instructed Pick, "When we return, ask Alfred for five thousand vouchers and deliver them to that man inside named Hiddink."

"Understood, Boss," Pick said, nodding as he started the automobile.

Karen did not stand on ceremony with the Captain; he opened the iron box to find a pendant inside, though it appeared the pendant could be pried apart.

Having the prior experience of accidentally snapping the "Whip of Order Ring," Karen kept the pendant in his hand to examine it for a moment, confirming it was not fashioned from plastic.

Applying pressure with his fingertips along the seam, he pried the pendant open to reveal a tooth resting within.

Karen reached out to pinch the tooth, holding it before his eyes; no matter how he looked at it, the tooth seemed entirely unremarkable.

His eyes closed and snapped open; instantly, Karen’s pupils flushed red as the Eye of the Dark Moon manifested.

Pick, who was driving, felt his heart quiver violently, and he took a deep, forceful breath to steady his mind.

Karen closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the Eye of the Dark Moon had vanished.

Well, for the time being, it seemed the Eye of the Dark Moon only possessed the effect of rallying the power of the dark moon, and was incapable of making minute observations.

Returning the tooth to the pendant and snapping the iron box shut, Karen twisted his neck and looked out the window, where he saw a crowd of people clad in white robes and pointed hoods, marching through the streets with torches aloft.

This phenomenon had actually appeared long ago, but now, their ranks had grown larger and larger.

As the carriage drove through them, Karen perceived a chilling sensation, even though they were all merely ordinary folk.

Upon returning to the funeral parlor, Pick went immediately to draw the vouchers, while Karen carried the iron box into the study.

No sooner had he sat down behind the desk than a white light materialized within the study, and the figure of the former homeowner appeared.

Seeing him emerge, Karen poured himself a glass of water and smiled, "You have not come out in a long time."

The elder replied, "I had intended to emerge last time, but there was a person standing behind you, so I did not dare."

"Who?"

"That one—the system of your family's faith."

"Oh, I see."

"There is another reason: I feel I am no longer capable of proselytizing to you, and might even be influenced by you instead. Each time I emerge, it takes me a vast amount of time to compose myself afterward."

"Heh. Right, do you recognize this object?"

Karen opened the box, pried the pendant apart, and held the tooth up toward the old man.

The things the Captain desired were either connected to the Bloodthirsty Aberrant Demons or related to the Light; had it been related to Order, there would have been no need to deliberately have Karen fetch the cargo.

After a careful scrutiny, the elder spoke, "That is a tooth."

"I am well aware it is not a bullet."

“You could try using your own power to stimulate it, though if it is merely a souvenir, it might very well be destroyed in the process.”

Kallen shook his head and said, “I am just purely curious; there is no need to deliberately seek out what it is.”

“Young Master.”

Alfred’s voice echoed from outside the study.

“Come in.”

Alfred walked inside and said, “Young Master, that egg is already undergoing refinement under Kevin’s guidance. It is expected to take a day, which should give you enough time to make the final selection.”

“My selection is at eight in the morning the day after tomorrow, so I will need to appear in the basement level of the Academic Affairs Building by around six.”

“Then there is enough time.”

“But you still need to consider one thing: if I rush to transmute the Heart of the Sea God at that exact moment, will it cause me to fall into a deep slumber for two days and two nights like before?”

“This subordinate understands. I will immediately ask Kevin if there is a way to accelerate it. In any case, it cannot be allowed to affect your final selection, Young Master.”

“Mm, good.”

At that moment, Alfred looked toward the tooth in Kallen’s hand.

“Do you know what this is?” Kallen asked.

“This subordinate...” Alfred stepped forward.

Kallen handed the tooth to him, and Alfred caught it in both palms. Then, the Succubus Eye activated, yet it was surprisingly no longer blood-red, but somewhat pinkish.

He remembered that in the past, whenever Alfred’s Succubus Eye flared up, it was a bloody, crimson expanse. This also proved that since Alfred had started following him, his body had changed in ways beyond merely losing the aura of a divergent demon.

Along with the ignition of the Succubus Eye, the tooth within Alfred’s palm seemed to catch some sort of resonance, actually floating upward.

Witnessing this scene, Kallen could not help but understand a little why so many people desired Alfred’s eyes.

Purely from the breadth of its utility, the Succubus Eye was indeed much more practical than the Dark Moon Eye. The Dark Moon Eye, just like the Blade of the Dark Moon, required a lineage to be used; its value in specialized fields was incomparable, but in the eyes of most people, it was less than useless.

Suddenly, Alfred’s body trembled, the expression in both his eyes instantly turning pitch-black. His palm contracted, gripping the tooth tightly, and a low growl tore from his throat!

In an instant,

the entire study,

no,

to be precise,

the entire funeral parlor was plunged into absolute darkness!

“Hoo... hoo... hoo...”

The sound of exhaling came from in front of him, from his side, and then from above his head, drawing almost flush against his body, as if a fierce beast were observing him from within the darkness.

This feeling was incomparably familiar.

Because just yesterday, Kallen had only recently experienced it.

The Phantasm Beast—Compasini!

...

“Ngh?”

Purr shook her head,

“Has night fallen, meow?”

“Woof!”

Kevin’s voice came through, but Purr could not see him.

“I know it is an illusion, but who on earth caused it? Kallen is not adept at illusion arts, and in this house, only that person is skilled in it... Huh, it could not be the radio goblin, could it?”

“Woof!”

Fortunately, almost everyone else in the funeral parlor had already fallen asleep, so the impact was not great.

...

“Snap!”

A crisp sound rang out, the darkness dissipated, and everything returned to normal.

Sitting behind the desk, Kallen saw Alfred kneeling prostrate on the floor tiles of the study, blood oozing from the corners of both eyes.

The old man beside him said in astonishment, “An illusion capable of affecting even a spiritual imprint?”

Having finished speaking, the old man silently retreated, his figure vanishing inside the study.

“I am sorry... Young Master, I was just influenced and controlled by it.”

Alfred opened his eyes, which were filled with bloodshot veins and exhaustion.

Kallen asked, “Is this... Compasini’s tooth?”

Sometimes, perception felt more reliable than what was seen in reality.

Although there was a statue of the Phantasm Beast Compasini on the plaza outside the Great Hall of Tirasnu, which was immensely majestic and vast, resembling a wicked dragon coiled there, this tooth was no different from a normal human tooth.

But... the finger of the God of Light could be hidden by Purr inside her tail, and the Evil God Raniedal, who had once suppressed and slain the Sea God, was now a dog.

On this basis, it seemed very easy to accept that Compasini’s tooth was this small.

“What happened, what happened!”

Kevin’s bald head slammed the study door straight open as he rushed in with Purr riding on his back.

Alfred opened his palm, revealing the tooth inside.

Purr stared at the tooth, observing it closely.

Kevin craned his neck, straining to get a look, but because Purr was sitting on his back, it was somewhat difficult.

Purr leapt down from Kevin, and only then was Kevin able to lie flat against Alfred’s arm to inspect the tooth closely.

“Stupid dog, do you recognize it?”

“Woof!”

“You are not familiar with it?”

Just then, the telephone on the desk rang. Kallen answered it, and the voice of the captain came from the other end.

“Hello, Kallen, you got the item, right?”

“Mm, I got it.”

“Are you curious why I made you go out of your way to get a very ordinary tooth?”

“Compasini’s tooth, even if considered just a souvenir, is worth going to get.”

“Oh, did that dog of yours tell you?”

Actually, it was my radio.

“Captain, where did you obtain this tooth?”

“On the black market, the seller was marketing them as the teeth of a bloodthirsty divergent demon. There were two in total; I bought one on the spot, and the second one was reserved by me. It was delivered today, which is the one I had you go fetch.”

"That is the nature of the black market, where items of immense worth are routinely bartered away as mere trinkets."

"Are you truly out there executing a mission, Captain?"

"Indeed I am. Though, even without this assignment, I would have conjured some other pretext to have you retrieve it."

"To evade paying the final balance?"

"Precisely. Cough... no, that is not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I am forever leeching off your secrets, and lately, you have barred me from doing so. Do you have any conception of the profound strain that places upon me?"

"And so?"

"And so, I have unearthed a lead regarding the burial grounds of the phantom beast, Compacini. It is an entity sealed by the hand of the God of Order himself. A being of such magnitude possesses nothing that is not a priceless treasure.

Does it pique your interest?"

Karen observed that although Alfred had only recently been liberated from control, he remained clear-headed now, yet his gaze was still transfixed by the tooth resting within his palm. He had entirely neglected to return it to the desk, a lapse utterly uncharacteristic of Alfred’s habitual rigor.

Evidently, for someone like Alfred who walked the path of spiritual illusionism, the phantom beast Compacini held an overwhelmingly potent allure.

Ever since Alfred had aligned himself with Karen, he had asked for virtually nothing, consistently and thoughtfully synchronizing with him in both duty and daily life. It was a rare occasion for him to desire and covet an object, and Karen felt he ought to satisfy him as far as his own current means permitted.

"Captain, when do you return?"

"A secret... Oh?

Ah, I return the day after tomorrow, so I shall miss the chance to see you off for your examinations, though I possess absolute faith in you. Furthermore, there is no need for undue haste; the clues in my possession still require deeper analysis and excavation, demanding a vast assembly of hands. This excavation initiative must certainly await the conclusion of your final selections, or perhaps even after you have departed for the Gate of Samsara. Thus, you need not fret. You may quite readily offer a proper answer to my query first—for instance, by stating that you find the matter highly intriguing."

Left with no alternative, Karen could only indulge his captain's psychological whims.

"Captain, I find the matter highly intriguing."

On the other end of the line, a pair of soft coughs ensued, followed by a reply delivered in a suppressed, profound cadence:

"A secret."

"Captain, upon your return, pray inform me of your current residential address."

"To what purpose?"

"My hound has been shedding dreadfully of late. I intend to send him to board at your residence for a few days."

Kevin: "..."