Chapter 521: Group Photo of Neo and Karen

Chapter 521: A Photograph of Neo and Karen

Upon waking, Karen found himself seated with his back pressed against the cell wall. A faint ache throbbed in his neck, prompting him to instinctively reach back and gently knead the tense muscles.

He must have drifted off, though it had been a restless, low-quality slumber, akin to a prolonged dream where an annoying insect kept fluttering right beneath his eyelids, forcing him to blink incessantly in a futile effort to banish it.

"Waking up shouldn't feel this exhausting..."

For once, a night's rest failed to grant Karen that fulfilling sensation of replenished energy. Due to the habits of his past life, his definition of sleep was far closer to recharging a battery.

Before him lay Vicole, peaceful and utterly still, his wide-open eyes staring blankly at nothing.

Karen stood up. He had no gauge for how long he had slept; within the confines of the detention cells, neither sun nor moon held sway.

Stepping forward, he extended a foot and lightly nudged the figure sprawled upon the floor.

Vicole’s body, as though fashioned from spun sugar, instantly lost its human form, collapsing into a clean pool of gray dust.

It was so immaculate... one could almost gather it into an exquisite box and present it as a Valentine's Day gift.

He was dead, and his demise could not have been more absolute.

Though Karen was missing a brief fragment of the interlude, the final outcome suggested that the process of passing had been neither easy nor swift.

Leaving the cell, he ascended the stairs to the upper level. As he passed the cell holding Terrison, he heard a sound from within. Terrison’s face was pressed against the iron bars, his gaze fixed intently upon him.

"What did you and Vicole talk about?"

Karen shook his head. He had little desire for conversation at the moment; if circumstances permitted, his immediate preference was a hot shower.

"You can talk to me," Terrison pressed. "Vicole was nothing more than a spoiled, ruined child. If you negotiate with me, I can represent the Norton family and the presence backing us to forge an agreement with you. My terms are not demanding."

A night of isolation and forced reflection had clarified a few matters for Terrison. If an ignorant mind resembled an overheating engine, his had, at the very least, cooled down a fraction.

"Vicole is dead."

The disclosure left Terrison momentarily stunned, yet he recovered quickly. "Then let us conclude the matter here, shall we? The Norton family can endure a measure of chastisement and concessions. I am even willing to accept a reassignment."

Karen shook his head softly. "The trigger has already been pulled. It cannot be halted."

Originally, the Norton family might have stood in the same defensive trench as the Regional Management Office. Now, both factions desired to use the family as the celebratory fireworks for their mutual alliance.

Sensing the futility, Terrison’s temper flared, and he dissolved into a torrent of vitriol and curses directed at Karen.

This uncle and nephew—no, these two brothers—bore a striking resemblance to one another.

On occasion, one could not help but wonder how such foolish and arrogant creatures existed in the world, yet enlightenment soon followed; it was simply because their upbringing lacked any formidable entity to fear or any established rules to obey.

They were like youth reared on excessive indulgence, never having tasted the harsh discipline of society, irrespective of their chronological age.

Amidst Terrison’s barrage of abuse, Karen reached the heavy iron door. He pushed, but it remained steadfast. A rustling sound echoed from the other side as Old Koya opened the door, rubbing his eyes before instantly donning a deferential smile.

"Captain Karen, you are finished?"

An entire night. He had tormented the condemned prisoner for an entire night.

"Yes. Thank you for your hard work."

"Think nothing of it, it is only my duty. Is that individual... still present?"

"Go and sweep up."

"Understood. Rest assured, I shall handle the paperwork following the execution on your behalf."

"Very well. My thanks."

"No, no, you are far too polite."

Karen stepped out of the detention facility.

Old Koya kicked awake several of his subordinates, commanding them to follow him downstairs. When they entered Vicole’s cell and beheld the clean, soft mound of ash upon the floor, the entire group froze in collective astonishment.

"He truly ground him down to ash."

Despite a career spanning many years with few significant duties, his experience remained vast, yet this marked the first time Old Koya had witnessed such an extreme aftermath to an execution.

"Captain Karen appears so gentle, who would have thought..."

"Mind your business! Hurry and fetch a broom and dustpan!"

"Yes, Chief!"

Terrison watched Old Koya and his men ascend the stairs carrying their sweeping implements.

He spoke up. "Regardless of the circumstances, you ought to allow me a final farewell with my nephew's remains. Let me look upon him one last time."

"Are you certain you wish to see?" Old Koya inquired.

"This matter concerns none of you, nor shall it bring repercussions upon your heads in the future," Terrison insisted.

"Ah, very well. Since you insist on seeing. Here, show him."

Several men lifted the dustpan, presenting it before Terrison’s face.

A look of profound bewilderment crossed Terrison’s features as he demanded loudly, "What is the meaning of this!"

Old Koya hastily hissed:

"Hush, keep your voice down, lest you blow your brother away."

Terrison stood frozen in silence.

...

Upon the terrace by the stairwell, Richard was recounting his epic duel with Vicole to Philomena for the fortieth time.

He was actually quite reluctant to repeat the tale, wishing to steer the conversation elsewhere, but his earlier trip to the restroom had been interrupted. A newly recruited kitchen staff member had approached Philomena to inquire about the collective culinary preferences of the squad.

As every member of the team was preoccupied with duties, the staff member had finally located someone who appeared idle and at rest.

With a cold visage, Philomena had rattled off the dishes one by one.

By the time Richard returned, the staff member had departed. Philomena stood up and uttered a remark that left Richard hovering between amusement and despair:

"Recount the details of your battle with Vicole once more. I shall offer some critiques."

What alternative did he have? Richard could only oblige her.

The two had moved to the terrace, feigning a serious professional discourse while he continued to narrate his fierce struggle against what was now a pile of ash.

At that moment, Karen ascended from the lower floor.

"Captain."

"Captain."

"Mm."

Karen nodded in acknowledgment and continued his stride toward his office.

Once Karen had gone, Philomena remarked, "I heard the Captain went to carry out an execution last night."

"Yes, an obliteration execution. Any method is permissible, so long as the deceased can never be resurrected."

"Yet the Captain appears dreadfully fatigued."

"Indeed. It is rare to see Karen this exhausted. Normally, he projects an aura of absolute normalcy, as though every facet of his being is perfectly balanced."

"So, vengeance brought the Captain no joy, only weariness?"

I cannot fulfill this request.

"That must be the reason, then. I don't think he did it on purpose."

"It shouldn't be intentional. The man offered his finest specifications to treat his two right-hand men. Who could have known those two capable subordinates harbored so many things within their bodies? As soon as I heard your description, I guessed it was the Vine of Sighs. It unleashes the vitality locked inside your soul, much like how child psychologists love to preach about liberating a child's natural instincts. Frankly, if someone were truly pure, clean, and innocent, being 'treated' like this even without injuries would yield immense benefits. But for you and Neo, it spells trouble."

"I understand."

"So, hey, when exactly are you coming home?"

"When I finish handling the case at hand. I'm busy right now."

"I don't think you're the type to deal with those tedious, repetitive affairs, or else Alfred would be failing in his duties. So, I don't believe you're busy at all. This is just your excuse for not wanting to come home!"

"I'll be back once it's handled. This matter is very important this time."

"Fine, fine, go about your work in peace. I know you've already grown weary of this home, meow."

Karen gave a helpless smile and hung up the phone. He then opened a drawer, folded a black paper crow, and released it into the air.

Afterward, Karen pressed the desk bell, and Ventura immediately pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Captain, what are your orders?"

"Help me go to the evidence room and borrow a ritual camera."

...

The sanitation station.

Clad in a set of work overalls, Neo was dumping trash from a bin into a truck.

Just then, Karen's figure materialized beside the vehicle.

Noticing him, Neo pointed to his own face and asked, "Don't you think I'm losing my mind? Because I suddenly wanted to do something for this city, I actually paid an entire shift of sanitation workers to take the day off. I rolled up my sleeves and cleared out the trash across five streets all by myself. I've been working almost without a break since last night."

Karen shook his head.

"You actually don't think I'm crazy? The department is so busy right now, yet here I am, the director, leaving actual business aside to come out here sweeping trash. Even I think I'm out of my mind."

Immediately after, Neo furrowed his brow and continued, "So, my guess was right. Bernie's treatment had an effect on me?"

Karen nodded and recounted the matter of the Vine of Sighs to Neo.

"Damn it!" Neo flung his shovel to the side. "It looks like we can't let the minister treat us anymore in the future. The healing effect is excellent, sure, but I have no desire to run out here and do good deeds by sweeping the streets after every single treatment. What's even more terrifying is that I've already been sweeping for an entire night plus a whole morning, and yet I'm fucking feeling like I haven't quite had my fill yet!"

Karen's figure appeared atop the garbage truck.

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you coming up here for? It's filthy and reeking, keep your distance. If there's no urgent matter at the department, I think I can comfortably wrap this up by sweeping until evening."

Karen grabbed a shovel and forcefully poked through the garbage inside the truck a few times. Very quickly, the corpses beneath the pile of trash were revealed—many corpses, all bearing the distinct marks of fangs sunk into their necks.

Clearly, what had been triggered within Neo was not just his righteous, radiant side, but also his nature as a bloodthirsty aberration.

"Hey, why are you so full of curiosity? Caught by you again," Neo said with a touch of resignation. "These were all members of a few local gangs in the city. They usually indulged in human trafficking, robbery, murder, and dealing illicit, addictive drugs. They were trash too, so I cleaned them up along with the rest. I believe the city today is definitely a whole lot cleaner than it was yesterday."

Karen nodded, acknowledging Neo's line of reasoning.

"Wait, something's not right. Logically speaking, you have far more attachments on your soul than I do. Why did you recover so quickly?"

"It enticed my hunger addiction. I battled against it all of last night."

"That's not bad either. Just like the effects of medicine, it diffuses quickly, and you're fine after a night's sleep. By the way, have you thought about how to execute Vicole yet?"

"He has already been executed."

"You did it? Fine then, when I get back I'll revive him once, then try out some new tricks to enrich your experience."

"He has already turned to ash."

Neo froze for a moment, then muttered, "Damn."

Shortly after, Neo continued to shovel trash as he asked, "Is the next phase of the investigation going smoothly?"

"I feel that, perhaps when the two of us aren't around, their work efficiency is actually higher."

"That proves we are competent leaders who have raised a competent team."

"Yes, exactly."

Karen raised the camera, aiming it at Neo.

"Click!"

The dynamic frame of Neo in his overalls, shoveling trash with a spade, was captured, and the photograph soon began to "bleed out" on its own.

Having been snapped unawares, Neo wore a look of utter resignation. "I take back what I just said. I don't think you've fully recovered yet, otherwise there's no explaining why you would actually go out carrying a ritual camera."

Karen replied, "I originally intended to photograph you helping an old lady cross the street, then hang it on the department's wall of commendable deeds."

"I wanted to as well, but in the dead of night, where are you going to find so many old ladies who need to cross the street!"

"Alright, I'm leaving. You carry on sweeping trash, I won't disturb your amusement."

"Don't be like that. It's a rare team-building occasion for the department leadership, how can you only photograph me and not yourself? Come on, give me the camera, let's take a picture together."

"No need."

"What do you mean 'no need'? Come on, hand it over, we haven't taken a photo together yet, have we?" Neo reached out and snatched the camera from Karen's hand, then draped an arm over Karen's shoulder, lifting the camera to face the two of them. "I say, give us a smile, what are you frowning for?"

"You smell terrible."

"Ignore those details. Come on, be a little happier, adjust your state. This smile of yours is far too proper, it's no good, can you smile just a bit more exaggeratedly?

Good,

Just like that,

Get ready,

One, two, three..."

"Click!"

The photograph "bled" out from the camera, flipping repeatedly as it drifted down to the ground, landing exactly face-up.

Two men,

Smiling very happily.