Chapter 533: Grandma's Favoritism

Chapter 533: Grandmother's Partiality

Upon hearing Karen’s words, the confusion and remorse on Mr. Dallis's face began to gradually fade, replaced instead by a complex expression interwoven with surprise and mockery.

He looked at Karen and asked softly:

"Captain Karen..."

"Yes."

"So, you are not one of her people?"

"Oh, you thought I belonged to Madam Felsher, so you purposely concealed things from me just now?

Did you think I would report your situation to Madam Felsher?"

"Yes, because her granddaughter is in your squad."

"I am not."

"Now I know you are not, otherwise you wouldn't have guided me to deceive her."

"It was superfluous of me, because you were already prepared to deceive her anyway."

"Yes, quite right. She wants a favorable outcome, so I shall give her a favorable outcome. All along, she has merely treated me as a guinea pig, and I was willing to be her guinea pig, but only on the condition... that the outcome was what I desired.

Yet now, the outcome is not what I desired, so she must step into this abyss of pain and despair right along with me.

Deceiving her is actually quite easy. In fact, even if she saw me in my current state, she would still believe it was due to my own personal reasons that it failed, and that her own endeavor would certainly succeed.

A person is deceived because she herself wishes to believe."

"Can you tell me the specific details of your current situation?"

Karen scanned his surroundings, eventually pulling over a chair meant for the guards, sitting down, and looking at Dallis through the cell door.

Then, he silently produced the cigarettes he had swiped from Neo’s car, lit one, and took a drag, suppressing the spiritual wound that had just begun to throb with pain again.

In truth, he ought to have been resting well to nurse his injuries now, but conditions simply did not permit it.

It was much like running a storefront business—either you were completely idle, or you were too busy to catch your breath. Such was life.

"Captain Karen should already know a few things, I presume."

"Just speak for yourself."

"I originally thought I had succeeded when my father died. But at that moment, I endured too much agony, like inflating a bicycle tire—pumped out one moment, and violently forced back in the next..."

Hearing this, Karen frowned slightly, and the image of himself killing Bishop Dorff surfaced in his mind. He instinctively felt that this process must have had something to do with him.

Dallis continued: "It was agonizing, tearing, and despairing..."

"Was it because of this process that it failed?"

"No, though the process was tormenting, once it concluded entirely, I perceived an unspeakable power descending upon me, like a blessing one could touch with one's own hands.

Do you understand that feeling, Captain Karen?"

Karen remained noncommittal.

"I have read some records, and a certain saying has always circulated among the church upper echelon. When a fragment of a divinity is condensed and one is ushered into our Temple of Order through its gates, if this elder possesses a family, then his family will also receive a blessing from the Temple of Order. The talent and development of the next few generations of this family will receive a distinct boost.

And this boost has absolutely nothing to do with any personal intervention from that temple elder."

"I have heard of this saying."

Dis had said something similar, essentially meaning that once the most outstanding stalk bore fruit, extra fertilizer would be heavily applied to the surrounding seedlings.

"Yes, I believe it truly exists, because I felt it. But... it was different from what I imagined."

"So, it wasn't the torment you suffered before that caused your failure, but rather, the final outcome of this curse is destined to be failure?"

"Correct. This curse is bound to fail; it cannot possibly succeed. That is the most terrifying aspect of this curse—it constantly grants you hope, constantly strings you along, and in the end, hands you a profound despair, heh."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Of course. But, Captain Karen, could you give me a cigarette? I need one right now as well."

These were, in fact, the cigarettes Dallis had gifted to Neo in the first place.

"Alright."

Karen drew out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to Dallis.

Dallis took the cigarette and hesitated for a moment. This time, instead of merely waving his hand to catch a whiff of the smoke, he placed it directly in his mouth and took a deep drag.

There was no nicotine whatsoever in this stuff—or rather, nicotine would be considered too low-grade a substance to deserve a place in it. This was a purely high-grade psychic potion capable of numbing the soul.

Thus, if the soul was injured, it could be used as a painkiller.

Exhaling a ring of smoke, a relaxed expression finally surfaced on Dallis’s face.

Evidently, compared to the extensive ulceration manifesting across his body, the destruction his soul endured was far more catastrophic.

"Captain Karen, what is the difference between a curse and a blessing?"

Karen sighed and reminded him: "I think we could hasten the pace of our conversation a little."

"Oh, my apologies. I have certain habits that are difficult to change. In diplomatic circles, speaking nonsense, repeating the same nonsense endlessly, has almost become an instinct.

I believe the reason this curse cannot become a blessing is because what you obtain is imbued with emotion."

"Imbued with emotion?"

"Indeed. If they truly love you, then what they give you is a blessing; if they hate you, then it is a curse.

I do not know if my understanding is correct, but I feel this must be the truth, or at least a part of it.

I greatly admire the person who devised and created this secret art; he was truly terrifying. It is a secret art that transforms an unmeasurable, untouchable power into something substantive and tangible.

However, I suspect that when he devised this secret art, his original intention was directed toward a blessing.

Because I believe such a great figure would not start out with the intention of making a curse—that would seem quite low-class. Captain Karen, can you comprehend what I am saying?"

Karen nodded.

"But just as a newly forged piece of silverware turns dark when left outside for too long, a blessing, when left out in the open, becomes a curse, hahaha.

I accept my loss in this gamble; I accept my loss.

I hate whom I ought to hate, and I avenge what I ought to avenge.

Judging by what you said earlier, Captain Karen, you stand on the same line as I do, correct?"

"Correct. I must protect my people."

"Is Philomena your woman?"

Karen’s gaze focused slightly, and then he shook his head.

"My apologies, I did not mean it that way. I merely wished to remind you not to entangle yourself with this kind of curse. Once you let this fire burn onto yourself, it cannot be extinguished."

"You need not trouble yourself over these matters on my account, Mr. Dallis."

Whether it was a curse or a blessing, he was already within this sequence long ago.

"I now require some potion ingredients, as well as a few scrolls capable of concealing one's aura."

"The paper and pen are over there. Write down a list, and I shall prepare them for you."

"It is all listed here for you. Also, very well, when will you set me free?"

"When do you think it would be appropriate?"

"Tomorrow at noon. I shall allow her to see the person she wishes to see."

"Very well, you will be released tomorrow at noon."

Karen rose to his feet, preparing to take his leave.

Yet, a trace of doubt lingered within Darius as he asked, "I am curious, how do you intend to help her granddaughter?"

"That is something you have no need to know, for there is no way I can help you with it."

"Ah, I understand. Before the bubble is pricked, everything remains possible. As for me, I am already broken. I suspect I might die, that I might choose suicide. What do you think?"

"You will not commit suicide. But you truly do not have much longer to live. Perhaps on some rainy day soon, you will dissolve into a puddle of rot, washed down a sewer drain on some street in York City."

"What a wretched end, yet it is quite fitting."

"Dispose of yourself properly. Try your best not to pollute the environment."

"I will, I will," Darius nodded, "And now, could you spare me another cigarette?"

Karen drew out two cigarettes and handed them over.

Accepting them, Darius smiled. "I thought you would leave me the rest of the pack."

"I might have, originally."

"You are wounded as well, much like me, in the soul. How did that happen?"

"You have no need to know."

For it was sustained while slaughtering your father.

"Very well, my thanks to you for conversing with a puddle of rot."

"You are welcome."

Karen stepped out of the detention center, gave his instructions to the guards, and returned to his office.

While bathing, Karen instinctively reached up to clutch his chest. Setting aside the agony in his soul, this part of his flesh occasionally gave him the sensation of detaching from his frame, as though his body had been pieced together from building blocks; with one piece extracted, a profound sense of displacement permeated his entire being.

Yet Karen found it strangely exhilarating. Striking himself with the Scythe of War felt akin to excising a malignant tumor—it certainly had not been cleared entirely, but it was impossible for it to recur or spread within a short span of time.

Tossing and turning restlessly every few days was, after all, far worse than giving oneself a swift, decisive stroke.

When he emerged from the bath, Alfred was already standing in the office.

"Young Master, the coffee and the dog food have both been replenished."

Karen briefly recounted the recent events to Alfred; though his speech was rapid and concise, Alfred grasped his meaning perfectly.

"Young Master, you require rest and recuperation at present."

"There is no time. Whether Darius is good or evil, Madame Felsher is about to move against Philomena."

"You wish to accelerate this process?"

"Indeed. One cannot spend an entire year guarding against a thief. What a miserable existence that would be."

Frowning at the words, Alfred spoke immediately.

"Young Master, you have no need to translate that into Maclaisian."

"Ah, you caught that?"

"Yes. Certain proverbs possess a distinct rhythm."

"Very well, I shall write it down for you next time."

"My deepest thanks, Young Master."

"I shall sleep for a while. Wake me when it is time for the late-night meal; Grandmother and Delon will be arriving."

"Understood, Young Master."

Karen lay down on the bed to rest. Alfred poured a glass of ice water, set it upon the nightstand, and quietly stepped out of the office, catching sight of Philomena seated upon the corridor bench as he closed the door.

Philomena returned Alfred's gaze.

"You ought to offer your loyalty to the Young Master."

Philomena offered no reaction, neither in word nor in countenance.

Save for her interactions with Karen and Richard, communication that did not come in the form of a direct command proved somewhat difficult for her.

"Speak."

Alfred urged.

At last, Philomena opened her mouth to ask, "Is this a demand, or an exchange?"

Alfred replied.

"It is a matter of courtesy."

"This is inside a dream..."

"In the Young Master, you ought to have found the anchor between your dream and reality."

"An anchor..."

"You ought to offer your loyalty to the Young Master."

"Mr. Alfred, you are being very strange right now."

"You will understand. Once your affairs are concluded, you will comprehend the meaning of what I say now."

"Are you proselytizing?"

"Heh, what do you think?"

"I think it is absurd."

"Very well, let us allow time to ferment these matters. By the way, where is Richard? His task at present is to accompany you."

"In the office opposite, telephoning his grandparents."

"Then I shall attend to my duties."

Alfred produced his small notebook, unsheathed his fountain pen, and recorded his thoughts even as he walked away.

"The bewildered, cloistered girl does not yet comprehend what a magnificent fortune it is to be chosen by God.

I find myself somewhat envious of this cloistered girl; she once rejected the pastry Ventura offered her, yet here she sits even now, with God still worrying over the tribulations about to befall her.

I expect, barring any unforeseen events, she will stand behind me in the future, worshipping in the very same direction.

Upon a ship, some may weep and kneel without ever securing a passage, yet others seem predestined to board.

It appears I must reserve a small corner for her when I design the mural."

...

"Clack!"

The telephone was hung up.

Madam Tangli called out toward the kitchen, "I say, old man, is everything ready yet?"

"I think we need just a little more time before we can set off."

"Richard told me over there that he boasted to his colleagues about his grandmother's wonderful cooking."

"He was only telling the truth."

"So those colleagues of his barely ate any dinner, keeping their stomachs empty while waiting for the late-night snack."

"Oh, goodness, then they will have to stay hungry for a bit longer."

"That is why I told you to book a food truck for me. If you had listened to me earlier, we could have cooked along the way."

"My fault, my fault. I didn't know you were planning to prepare all this, my dear."

Delon held a large ladle, stirring it within a massive, simmering pot filled with chitterlings, pig ears, pig liver, beef, duck, and an abundance of vegetables.

Perhaps even Karen, who had once taught Grandmother the ways of Chinese cuisine, could never have anticipated that his own grandmother would be clever to such an extent, having now researched and mastered the art of braised dishes all on her own.

"My dear, I had a dream last night," Madam Tangli said.

"I wager it must have been a beautiful dream, was it not?"

"Yes, a beautiful dream. I dreamed of the days when I was young. Every time I watch the children grow up, I cannot help but reflect upon my own youth."

"Mm, yes, sometimes I feel the exact same way."

Especially when seeing the way Richard sat beside that girl, it was practically the spitting image of his own self back then.

"My dear, do you still remember how we first met?"

"During an expedition, I happened to be exploring an ancient ruin with the people from my department. I was in the middle of making a rubbing of the formation patterns on a stone tablet when the formation suddenly activated. You saved me, my dear. It was you who pulled me out right before I plunged into the lava. When did I fall in love with you? It was when you were crouched up there, and I grabbed the blade you extended down to me. Looking up to see your face, my heart skipped a beat right then and there."

Madam Tangli began to drop hints, "Do you still remember what that blade was called?"

"Of course I remember. The Blade of Nightmare. When you were pregnant with our daughter, you asked me to help you seal that blade. You said you would probably never have need of it again."

"Yes, and these past few days, I quite wished it had been by my side."

Hearing this, old Master Delon pursed his lips and said, "I am sorry, my dear."

"I do not mean to taunt you. After all, your performance following that was quite excellent. Especially when the camera cuts switched between you and Eisen on the stage, I guessed right away that it was the two of you pulling the strings."

"Uh... so you set up a broadcasting formation at home?"

"Is that not allowed?" Madam Tangli raised her voice.

"Of course it is, haha." How could old Master Delon dare to argue over this matter.

"Originally, I wanted to pass the Blade of Nightmare down to our daughter, but she inherited her teacher's sacred heirloom. I felt that item suited her better."

"Yes, we let her choose back then, and she chose that sacred heirloom."

"Later on, I originally thought to wait until Eisen grew up and pass it to him. Unfortunately, our son took after you."

"Yes, our son took after me, but... it isn't entirely a pity, is it? An excellent formation master is highly precious. Moreover, I perceive that our son's Key of the Rubik's Cube seems even more advanced than before. Not only has his health recovered a great deal, but his realm has also risen significantly. I felt it the last time we deployed a formation together."

"Mm, let us not speak of our son for now," Madam Tangli interrupted her husband's rambling thoughts. "My point is, it is time to unseal that blade."

"You plan to pass it to Richard?"

"Uh-huh."

"My dear, have you lost your mind? If someone with an unsteady mind grips that blade of yours, their spirit will be consumed by the backlash. I do not believe our grandson can master it. Do you remember why you sealed it back then? It was because when you were pregnant with our daughter, for the sake of her health, you could no longer continue to feed it with soul power. Only then did you have me help you seal it. The toll of using it is simply too immense. Furthermore... Richard's physical constitution and future path of development do not fit the road you walked back then either, even though he is indeed getting better and better at taking a beating nowadays."

"One must always give it a try, must they not, Delon?"

Hearing his name addressed directly, old Master Delon shuddered and could only say, "Of course, whatever makes you happy. We can let Richard choose for himself. Though I think our grandson probably won't fancy this style of weapon; there is a high probability that he will feel dizzy and faint after swinging it a few times."

Madam Tangli nodded with satisfaction.

Richard certainly could not control the Blade of Nightmare,

but he would turn around and gift it to Karen!