Chapter 49: Take Off the Mask

Chapter 49: Stripping Away the Mask

“Every human being is like a spider spinning a web in this life.

Driven by anticipation or fear, they are bound to tangle with another's threads at some unforeseen moment.

This interconnected tapestry can be so vast, lending the illusion that one might wander wherever they please;

yet it can also be so fragile, where a sudden gust of wind easily tears apart the grandeur they so conceitedly imagined.”

Such was the epitaph beneath Mr. Hoffen’s tombstone, personally designed, penned, and commissioned by Karen.

The words were rather numerous, the phrasing a bit winding, but fortunately, Mr. Hoffen’s grave was quite large—large enough to rival a double plot for a married couple. Thus, to leave it bare without writing something would only make it look overly desolate.

Karen felt that he and Mr. Hoffen were like two spiderwebs that should never have crossed paths. Their first encounter had yielded a rather unfortunate outcome;

yet in the end,

it was this elderly man who, with a fierce tenacity, held on to clear the Inmells family of all suspicion.

And the sole vessel of that suspicion was, in fact, himself.

Today, Dis did not wear his priestly vestments. He merely stood in silence before the monument, gazing at the photograph etched into the stone.

Karen led the mourning crowd through the burial rites, finally taking up a shovel to join the family hands in backfilling Mr. Hoffen’s grave.

At last, the mourners laid their flowers before the tombstone, bringing the ceremony to its close.

Karen took a water cup from Mina, took a long draught, and then walked over to Dis, offering the cup to him.

Dis accepted it, holding it in his hand as he spoke:

“I will stay with Hoffen a little longer. You have places to be today, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mina invited Teacher Eunice to the amusement park.”

Dis nodded and said, “Do not tarry too long.”

Karen wanted desperately to ask Dis: since all suspicion regarding the Divine Descent ritual had been bypassed through prior arrangements, what exactly was driving Dis to press him in this manner?

However, seeing that Dis was unwilling to speak of it, he refrained from asking further.

Karen bowed halfway toward the tombstone:

“Grandpa Hoffen, I am off to a date with a beautiful lady. I shall visit you again next time.”

With that,

Karen walked over to the narrow road bordering the cemetery, where Alfred was already waiting by the car, opening the door for him.

“Rhine Street.”

“Understood, Young Master.”

Alfred started the engine.

Karen originally intended to close his eyes and rest for a while. He had poured a great deal of thought into Mr. Hoffen’s funeral, and this morning he had broken his usual biological clock to rise early. One could say that the family’s treatment of Mr. Hoffen’s funeral surpassed even that of Mr. Mords, who had opted for Package B.

Of course, this was not a matter of money.

It was akin to a chef cooking for guests versus cooking for his own family; cooking for family allowed for a bit more casualness, bypassing any strict attention to plating, but the flavor and the heart behind it were understood only by one's own kin.

Just then, however, Karen noticed several newspapers laid out before him, each neatly folded to the relevant sections.

Karen opened one: "Mr. Morfe Gravely Ill; Morfe Conglomerate May Face Restructuring?"

Mr. Morfe was long dead—or rather, "completely vanished"—but the Morfe family had clearly chosen not to expose this news, opting for a cover-up instead, as it involved the internal property and power struggles of their clan.

"The Environmental Protection Girl Delivers a Passionate Speech on a Cruise Ship!"

There was a photograph accompanying the piece, showing Delice on a cruise ship returning to Wien, her face contorted fiercely as she gave her environmental address, perfectly embodying the concept of trying entirely too hard.

Next came the news that truly concerned the local politics of Luojia City.

"Mayoral Candidate Mr. Ford and Councilman Mr. Hagert Drive into Reservoir in Fatal Accident; Vehicle Destroyed, Both Deceased."

"Former Mayor Hickson Accused of Using Illegal Means to Suppress Competitors; Case Officially Opened for Investigation; He Has Announced His Resignation as Mayor of Luojia City and Declared He Will Not Run in the Next Mayoral Election."

Mr. Orca did not appear in the papers, as his identity was inherently mysterious and likely backed by Wien.

Chief Editor Humir’s disappearance was also absent from the news, lacking the societal stature to warrant coverage.

“Young Master, the special department must have stepped in. It is an agency above the regular police, specifically tasked with investigating and resolving abnormal demon incidents,” Alfred explained.

“So, the cause of death for Ford and Hagert was also manufactured by them?”

“Most likely, to avoid inciting public panic. After all, we didn't really cover our tracks that night; several crime scenes left very clear traces of abnormal demons and the power of faith. They would certainly find clues upon investigation.”

The hooked nose and the woman in the long grey dress inevitably came to Karen's mind.

“Will there be any trouble?” Karen asked.

“There shouldn't be any trouble, because our actions that night strictly adhered to the *Regulations of Order*. As long as the Master submits a post-incident report, the Church of Order will handle the communication with the local government and the secret police.

This is a minor matter.”

Alfred placed a slight emphasis on that last sentence.

As long as the Holy Church of Order remained powerful, they represented absolute justice, whether in standpoint or in procedure.

“Even if the social impact of the event is significant, an ordinary Inquisitor performing such deeds might be handled by the regional diocese, but the Master should not bear such a burden. Please do not worry, Young Master.”

Alfred still remembered the conversation from that night vividly:

“Grandfather, are you injured?”

“It is nothing, merely a slight side effect of using a forbidden curse.”

Alfred felt that it was fortunate that when he and the Master had clashed, the Master had only employed spells at the Inquisitor level; otherwise, he doubted he would still exist.

“Alfred.”

“Speak, Young Master.”

“Grandfather seems to intend for me to go to Wien.”

“Wien? That is a fine place. A grand country, a great city, a magnificent stage. Compared to it, Luojia City is like a quiet little village at the foot of a mountain.”

“My point is, Grandfather might be facing some trouble.”

“The retainers of great existences always encounter some trouble, but they invariably resolve them successfully. Even if they cannot resolve them for a time, once the great existence truly awakens, they will choose to resurrect them to repay the kindness of protecting them during the early stages of their awakening.”

Karen frowned slightly.

Alfred hastily explained, “Many stories on the murals go exactly like that.”

Karen could not be bothered to pay him any mind.

“Young Master, are you heading to Rhine Street to pick up Teacher Eunice?”

“Yes, Mina invited her teacher to the amusement park.”

“Hmm?” Alfred glanced back in the rearview mirror. “I forgot to let Miss Mina into the car.”

Karen waved his hand dismissively:

“Mina has an upset stomach. She cannot go anymore.”

……

The guests had long since departed, leaving Dis all alone before the tombstone.

Dis leaned against the headstone in silence, letting himself sink into a sit.

“I truly wish I could call you back with an Awakening Ritual, just to chat a little longer.”

Of course, it was mere talk.

The Awakening of the Order of Righteousness could indeed resurrect a corpse, but such a revival lasted for only a fleeting moment, and once the final vestige of spirituality within the body dissipated, it became nothing more than rotted flesh.

Thus, from the perspective of the Order of Righteousness, returning to the earth meant truly finding peace.

Dis uncapped his flask once more, took a sip, and then placed the open flask before the tombstone.

“It is precisely because the God of Order demanded nothing at all that my heart feels most uneasy.

The things that are free are often the most expensive.

The cruelest irony of it all is,

I broke my own seal ahead of time to make that sacrifice, and now my realm can no longer be suppressed.

Before long,

the Temple of Order will sense my presence.

They will extend their invitation, granting me what they deem supreme glory, ushering me into the temple as one of the elders to serve the God of Order in the unseen depths.

But I do not wish to go.

To everyone else in the Order—no, to most of today’s so-called orthodox churches—the temple has always been the most sacred place in a believer’s heart.

For every man who enters the temple as an elder, his family receives the blessing of the True God, and if he has no family of his own, he can pass this blessing down to a family of his choosing.

And that family, for generations to come, will remain the backbone of the Order, blessed with an abundance of faith’s power.

Yet I have no desire to serve a so-called True God in whom I no longer believe.

Even less do I wish for my family, my descendants, to plunge any deeper into the quagmire of this church.

And yet,

they will not permit my refusal.

It is not merely a matter of faith, where apostasy is forbidden; more importantly, they cannot allow my physical apostasy.

In this era where the True Gods do not manifest,

I even suspect

that what sustains the True God is no longer divine radiance, but rather a form of nourishment the temple infuses into the deity by converting the faith of the believers.

Everything you possess is granted by God;

therefore, it is only natural that God can reclaim what belongs to him from you.

Old Hoffen,

do you know,

the closer one gets to that height,

the more one feels that

the faith we believed in without a shred of doubt, our piety toward God, all that we guard, nurture, and uphold...

might be nothing more than a seed.

God

gave us the seed, which is God’s grace.

Once the seed bears fruit,

God will return to harvest it, and we must still bow in gratitude.

We

are merely God’s fertilizer.”

Dis’s gaze gradually grew profound.

“Perhaps my thoughts are flawed, my understanding distorted, my perception of God mistaken. Perhaps I have long since fallen, becoming a renegade heretic.

But each of us, in truth, merely lives in the world as seen through our own eyes.

I cannot allow myself to become fertilizer, only for the reward to be that my descendants are better suited to become fertilizer in turn.

Hoffen,

I will not allow myself, in the world through my eyes, to make such a choice.”

Dis cast a backward glance at the photograph on the tombstone.

He picked up the flask and stood.

“The mask is almost ready to be taken off.”

...

Alfred’s car pulled over on Rhine Street, intentionally stopping short of his master’s house.

“Young Master, I shall step out here and take a cab back.”

Karen asked,

“Alfred, tell me, if one takes a hearse to a date, would it produce a better effect?”

Alfred blinked at the question.

“That, this subordinate does not know, but this subordinate does know one thing: if Mr. Mason had taken Mrs. Mary out for a candlelit dinner in a hearse back then, Mina and Lunt would likely not exist today.”

“You make an excellent point.”

“Because everyone’s aesthetic standard and romantic inclinations differ, Young Master has likely developed an affection for the hearse during this period, or perhaps you often find yourself lost in thought within it, naturally breeding hearse-bound reflections. It is just that normal people generally do not possess such reflections.

However, it might actually work wonders. After all, Miss Eunice has been raised since childhood in a noble family bound by rigid rules, so a touch of rebellion might leave a deeper impression on her heart.

It is much like how many schoolgirls fancy the ruffians and hoodlums on the streets. Their undeveloped brains and immature worldview mistake that roguishness for a true expression of masculinity. Though they will look back and think themselves foolish once they mature, it does not hinder their infatuation with that feeling at their current age.”

“Did you ever host a relationship talk show?” Karen asked.

“*Rogia Story Hour*. We did all kinds of shows. In fact, compared to horror stories, the relationship analysis programs actually enjoyed higher ratings. After all, you must consider the demographic of listeners who have the leisure to tune in to the radio at that time of night.”

“I see.”

“Have a wonderful weekend, Young Master.”

Alfred reached out to open the car door, but paused.

“Young Master, do you need me to take it back with me?”

A black cat slowly poked its head out from the backseat.

Karen truly had not realized that Purr had been surreptitiously lingering in the car the whole time. Purr could evade him, but she could not escape Alfred’s eyes.

“Karen, I believe I have an obligation to supervise. This is my duty as an elder.”

Caren let out a soft laugh. "I’ve never seen any other elder sneak along on a younger generation's date."

"You think they don't want to? It's only because they don't enjoy the stellar conditions I have. If they were a cat, you ask them again if they'd be willing to follow."

"I'm sorry, but I don't care for that feeling."

"I'm just a cat. During the date, you could have Eunice hold me. Just picture that scene—a beautiful young lady cradling a lovely cat with fur like polished silk in her arms. How utterly aesthetic."

"Except that cat happens to be her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother."

"I feel it would be more appropriate if you appended '...'s sister' to the end of that."

"This whole thing would just make me feel bizarre. My apologies."

"Bizarre?" Puer extended a feline paw. "Shouldn't it be more thrilling?"

"Alfred, take her back home. Your task for today is to stay at the house and watch over her."

"Yes, Young Master."

Alfred forcibly carried Puer out of the car. Caren slid into the driver's seat and drove forward.

"I am so filled with sorrow," Puer lamented. "This feeling of watching a descendant of my own family being lured away by a man with ulterior motives is truly distressing for a cat."

"There is no need for distress. If your descendant can seize this opportunity, she will be able to grace a mural in the future."

"Is your life's goal simply to end up on a mural? I've noticed you have quite an obsession with murals."

Alfred shook his head and replied, "My life's goal is not to end up on a mural, but if that life's goal is achieved, being placed upon a mural is an absolute inevitability."

"Perhaps it's because I've been a cat for too many years, so I don't care much for those grand ambitions. I only focus on the things right in front of me, like fish with pickled cabbage or squirrel-shaped mandarin fish. Oh, and another thing—Dis is truly shameless, and that evil god grandson of his is cast from the exact same shameless mold. Just how shameless must this grandfather and grandson duo be to decide to make a move on a nineteen-year-old girl who knows nothing of the world? If I were human right now, believe me, I would drag Caren to the incinerator of the crematorium, let his hair brush against the sparks, and demand of him: 'Do you still dare to? Do you still dare to!'"

Alfred smiled.

"What are you smiling at? Do you think I'll never be able to turn back into a human again? Little thing, don't look at how refined you seem right now; back when I was still human, I wouldn't have even bothered to glance at you."

"Then I pray you hurry up and transform."

...

As he passed the residence of Piaget and Mrs. Seymour, Caren deliberately accelerated a fraction while turning his face away.

Fortunately, the kind of incident where he was recognized and called out did not occur.

After all, neither Piaget nor Mrs. Seymour would stand idly by their front door, staring at the road ahead with absolutely nothing to do, just waiting for the silhouette of him driving the Santland to pass by.

Finally, Caren brought the car to a halt outside the gates of Eunice's home.

At the entrance, a woman dressed in the fashion of a noble lady was indeed standing there, gazing steadily down the road before the house, as if she truly had nothing better to do than wait for the silhouette of him driving the Santland to appear.

There was a slight resemblance to Eunice between her brows, and though she was described as a noble lady based on her attire and temperament, she was by no means stout.

Caren stepped out of the vehicle and walked to the courtyard gate.

The lady lit a cigarette, her eyes fixed on Caren as she spoke:

"Are you here for my daughter?"

"Yes. May I ask if Teacher Eunice is in?"

Caren offered a warm, sunlit smile.

The lady smiled, one hand continuing to hold the cigarette as she smoked, while her other hand stealthily slipped behind her back to give her own backside a fierce pinch. The sharp pang of pain helped her maintain her composure against the damning charm of that smile; she absolutely could not let slip that classic look of a mother-in-law growing fonder of her son-in-law the more she looked at him.

Still, with a son-in-law like this, even if he did absolutely nothing and was simply placed at home like a vase, just looking at him every day would be quite pleasing to the eye.

For the first time, she felt her resistance toward this "blind date" arranged by her father-in-law weaken slightly.

Granted, choosing a son-in-law certainly couldn't be based on good looks alone, otherwise post-marital life would bound to be fraught with all sorts of problems and evoke plenty of anger... but then, who could guarantee that a marriage would be free of troubles, arguments, and anger?

Therefore, why not choose a face that was far more agreeable to look at when one was angry?

"Oh~ are you Mina? My daughter said she had an arrangement to go to the amusement park with her female student today."

"Mina is my cousin, Madam."

"Oh~ then your cousin Mina must be unfortunately indisposed today—perhaps a stomach ache or something—and unable to come, is that right?"

"Yes, Madam. Is your hobby divination? Your prediction is remarkably accurate."

"No, I am merely a mother who has given birth to three children."

"You have maintained your figure beautifully; I had thought you only had one daughter, Eunice."

"Oh ho ho ho..."

Hold it in!

"Heh~ young man, that mouth of yours is certainly silver-tongued. I fear even the dead could be coaxed back to life by your words."

"Haha, you jest, Madam. How could that ever be possible."