Chapter 724: Good Friend!

Chapter 724 A Good Friend!

"Useless, useless, useless!"

Earl Recar lay in the large bathtub, pointing his finger at old Anderson in front of him, loudly berating him.

Old Anderson kept his head bowed, his hands bound, his back hunched, letting the saliva and bathwater splash onto his face from time to time, not daring to wipe it off.

People often said that being scolded by an elder when you were old was a kind of blessing.

Well, old Anderson felt his blessing was a bit too much, almost overflowing.

The previous black cat ancestor merely had a strange temper, but as long as you served its food, drink, and daily needs well, it later became too lazy to waste words on its useless descendants.

Old Anderson felt this was probably because the black cat ancestor had never served as the family patriarch.

But the one before him had once been a patriarch in the family history, a prominent figure who had forged the family's glorious pirate history; his sense of family was much stronger than that of the black cat ancestor.

"It has been nearly a year since I last woke up, hasn’t it? I originally thought that when I woke up this time, even if I didn't see a house full of little babies running around—which might be too soon—I would at least see a house full of pregnant women with big bellies!

And the result?

And the result?

And the result?

Little Anderson, you truly are useless, not a single one!"

Splat!

With a slap of his palm, the bathwater surged up, soaking old Anderson completely.

Behind him, Judia, who was holding a large brush to scrub Earl Recar's back, showed a gleeful smile.

She was a bastard of the Vien royal family, and by a strange coincidence, she had awakened Earl Recar's bloodline, which was even recognized during the Earl's first awakening.

Now that her "father" had come back to life, she was naturally very happy.

Although her father held Karen in immense awe, Judia no longer dared to harbor any rebellious thoughts toward Karen; even the King of Vien could probably only play the violin nearby to liven up the atmosphere when facing Karen, let alone a bastard like her.

Well, the reason she was called over to serve the Earl in his bath was also because the Earl heard that Karen only had one maid responsible for cooking by his side, and he did not dare to surpass Karen in luxury, even though Karen had already left the manor in the morning to return to York City.

Logically speaking, as a once-famous pirate king who had even described the Queen of Vien as a high-class prostitute;

His private life could be said to be as decadent as could be, and even if he called a dozen maids to bathe him now and held an unclad gathering while bathing, as long as the bathroom door was closed, it would still be considered very "refined" and "implicit";

But now, he could only call his own "descendant" to show filial piety while taking a bath.

"I think you simply don't know how important the family lineage is, and I think you completely fail to understand what your responsibility as patriarch entails!"

Old Anderson continued to bow his head and accept the criticism, counting the number of water droplets falling from his chin to the floor.

"Hehe, I don't know what kind of tantrum you are throwing here, have you accumulated too much pressure from being suffocated in the coffin for so long, meow?"

On the roof beam, Purr stepped out with elegant strides, looking down at the large bathtub from above.

Earl Recar's seniority was greater than Purr's, but seniority was useless with Purr; as the family's greatest genius of the past, she even looked down slightly on the First Ancestor Allen, feeling that the First Ancestor had not worked hard enough back then and held her back.

Most importantly, family seniority was secondary now, and the closeness of one's relationship with Karen was the true measure of status.

In this regard, even the Radio Elf dared not claim to surpass her, after all, it was impossible for the Radio Elf to sleep in the same bed as Karen.

Earl Recar raised his head, glared at Purr above, and asked, "He doesn't understand, and you don't know how to urge them either!"

Standing from the family's perspective, letting more women surnamed Allen conceive Karen's children was an extremely important matter; whether from the perspective of family status or family development, it was the most effective way.

"Heh," Purr sneered and scolded, "Which idiot was it that itchily ignited the family bloodline for Eunice back then, leaving Karen's fiancée unable to do anything and unconscious for over half a year?"

Earl Recar immediately looked to the left and then to the right, his lips puckering, almost about to whistle a pirate tune.

"Without your brain-dead operation back then, perhaps Eunice would be pregnant by now, yet you have the nerve to scold little Anderson here, you really are thick-skinned!"

How had Earl Recar ever been scolded like this? Even if he was very respectful or even humble facing Karen, Karen had always treated him with great courtesy.

"Purr Allen, is this how you speak to your elder!"

Purr continued to scold: "Come, come, let's calculate who has lived longer, I have lived more than double your lifespan!"

Earl Recar: "..."

"Little Anderson."

"Yes, Ancestor."

"You go out, there is nothing more for you here."

"Yes, Ancestor."

Old Anderson obeyed Purr's command and withdrew; after stepping out of the door, he wiped his face with his hand, scratched his wet hair, and as he walked outward, he couldn't help but skip a little, almost breaking his cane.

Then, he laughed to himself; after being scolded by the ancestor, he felt he had suddenly grown much younger.

...

"Don't put on your ancestor airs in front of little Anderson in the future, he has already done well enough."

"I am talking about serious matters!"

"Heh, you take Karen for a man like you, sleeping with women everywhere and leaving seeds everywhere? Recar, our little Karen is not as low-class as you think."

"I don't dare to think of him as low-class, but he is a man, he is a normal man, right?"

"Deliberate on your rhetorical question carefully again."

"Pfft, is he not a normal man?" Judia, holding the large brush to scrub his back, chimed in to liven up the atmosphere.

Slam!

Judia was slapped away by Earl Recar, her whole body crashing against the wall and sliding down slowly, bleeding profusely, but she did not die.

"Dare to show disrespect to Karen again, and you will die for me. Now, get out."

"Yes, Ancestor."

Judia dragged her heavily injured body and crawled out, leaving a bright red trail on the floor.

Earl Recar looked at Purr again and said, "He is a god."

"Yes, so, what right do you think our Allen family has to make a god leave so much bloodline for us? Don't you think about whether you are worthy?"

Earl Recar fell silent.

"You should be glad, glad that my little Karen recognizes this engagement now, our great-great-great-great-niece..."

Earl Recar added: "She is of my direct line."

The Earl had served as patriarch, and his line had never ended midway, so subsequent patriarchs belonged to his direct lineage.

Purr had never been patriarch, let alone left any offspring, so she could only call her a great-niece.

Earl Recar clapped his hands again, looked at Purr, and said, "You are also of the main line, so, you are also of my direct lineage."

"So, are we discussing the genealogy now?"

"Alright, you continue."

"Some things are not yours, so do not wish for too much; our little Karen didn't treat you as a slave because his moral standards are high, but you must never place yourself in the wrong position.

You haven't seen it, but even a deity, in front of a master god, holds a status so humble that it is worse than a dog's, so, Recar, what kind of thing do you think you are?"

Hearing these words, Recal did not grow angry, but instead burst into laughter:

"Hahaha, I see your point, but rest assured, I would not make such an insane mistake. The more skilled a sailor is, the better he understands how to obey and cooperate with the waves!"

"Some positions do not belong to you forever just because you occupied them first. I have no idea how well the body of the first ancestor, Alan, is preserved in the family cemetery, but if the embalming was done flawlessly back then, we could just awaken the first ancestor and let you cool your heels wherever you like, haha. Are you even qualified to contest a spot with the first ancestor?"

"As I said, I will not make that kind of mistake. You cannot comprehend what Cullen means to me. A person who gives you a second chance at life bestows a kindness akin to that of a parent."

Purr rolled her eyes at him, turned to leave, and tossed a final sentence over her shoulder:

"In any case, just wait patiently. When the time comes, it will all depend on our Eunice's hard work."

Count Recal clenched his fist in an encouraging gesture and shouted toward the departing Purr above:

"You must cheer up and work hard too!"

Purr stopped in her tracks, turned around, and glared furiously with her cat eyes at Recal below.

Recal blinked and continued to shout without the slightest psychological burden:

"You must work hard, meow!"

Purr: "..."

...

"So, following this train of thought, it should go from here, to here, and then to here. Can this idea actually work?"

"Then starting from here, through here, to here, and then turning over there, would that create a contradiction?"

"Then how about this, look, I will draw it for you, here, here, and then to here, can it be done?"

Inside the workshop, old Saiman held a pen, analyzing and questioning before a thick stack of design blueprints, while Kevin sat nearby on a high stool wearing his gold-rimmed glasses.

Old Saiman came from the Pamires Religion and was an expert in spatial forging technology. His level was beyond question. So, even though he could not understand dog language and Kevin would not break the rule to speak human words to him, he could still benefit immensely from Kevin through simple reactions.

He possessed the practical ability, while this Lord Dog possessed higher insight, making them a well-coordinated team.

"Phew... in that case, let us choose this plan; it is the most stable."

Kevin nodded.

Old Saiman picked up a towel from the table, intending to wipe Kevin's sweat first, but Kevin moved away, signaling his distaste.

"Heheh."

Old Saiman wiped his own sweat and lamented in his heart: in his past life, he had not even lived as well as a dog.

Immediately afterward, he frowned slightly, reflecting on what on earth he was thinking.

In his past life, he did not even have the qualification to compare himself to a dog!

Kevin lay back on the chair and began to rest.

Cullen had already left the manor. Because Cullen's upcoming itinerary was very full and he had to go out, neither Purr nor Kevin had followed him back this time, staying behind instead to help manage the manor's affairs.

Kevin could finally rid himself of his psychological shadow temporarily.

Old Saiman silently brought out his pipe, lit it for himself, took a beautiful puff, looked at the large golden retriever, and smiled: "Actually, back then in front of Cullen, I was also very proud and arrogant!"

Back then, Cullen even had to come to the cemetery to cook for him.

Kevin tilted his dog head at old Saiman.

"But that does not prevent me from changing my faith directly this time, overturning everything from the past."

No one could doubt old Saiman's former loyalty to the Pamires Religion; if his faith had not been firm, he would not have chosen suicide.

Old Saiman gently tapped his pipe and said:

"For a new life, what should be let go can actually be let go. You might not be facing a new person, but what you possess is a new self."

Hearing this, Kevin raised his dog paw to touch his bald head first, and then extended his dog paw toward old Saiman.

Old Saiman immediately put down his pipe, wiped both hands on his clothes, and then clasped Kevin's paw together with both hands, shaking it gently up and down.

"Woof."

"You praise me too much, you praise me too much."

...

"Young Master, among the candidates for the deputy director of the logistics department, one was nominated by Jaspor."

On the way back to York City, Alfred spoke while driving.

"Does it conflict with the candidate we

Before then, Cullen had already completed the consolidation of the Whip of Order within his district. Whether in terms of personal influence or the actual structure of power, he had achieved the absolute peak; the journey into the subterranean cavern had merely served as a sublime consummation of it all.

A hero Cullen had been, and a bureaucrat he had been as well.

This was precisely the source of his confidence to directly veto the District Chief’s nomination, for he truly possessed the strength to do so.

Soon enough, the District Chief’s secretary approached him of her own accord: "Minister Cullen, I heard you have returned. The District Chief is waiting for you in her office."

"Very well."

Cullen arrived at the District Chief’s office to find Gaspoir brewing tea herself. Seeing Cullen walk in just like that, she opened her arms and took the initiative to step toward him:

"Oh, I truly did not expect you to make such an exceptional recovery."

Cullen also opened his arms to complete a formal embrace with the District Chief, murmuring, "Praise Order."

"Have a seat."

"Thank you."

"It appears you should be able to resume your duties now."

"Yes, though I shall be traveling for business next; tomorrow I go to the Church University to officially complete two days of academic hours."

"I will be heading to the Dingle District tomorrow evening. At that time, I can help invite some people out for a dinner gathering for you, how does that sound?"

"That would be wonderful, Senior Sister."

"Heh, the higher-ups are exceedingly pleased with your integration. They have agreed to let me vacate the position for you early. Do you believe the timing is appropriate now, Cullen?"

This, Cullen had not anticipated.

Reasonably speaking, when your superior speaks such words to you, you ought to feel stricken with awe and trepidation. Yet Cullen was far from that, because he could hear that this was not passive-aggressive cynicism from Gaspoir.

At their level of standing, even if they were to engage in such struggles, it would be based on a tacit understanding, rather than the petty, sarcastic bickering over dinner shared by relatives in a discordant household.

Was this the intent of the "Academic Faction"? Had that faction, knowing he wished to join, presented him with a grand gift in advance?

Therefore, the District Chief nomination Alfred had spoken of in the carriage was not Gaspoir attempting to diffuse her power, but rather a prelude to facilitate a harmonious transition? So the outside world wouldn't think he had forcefully driven away his superior.

Had both his and Alfred’s plans fallen through?

And the reason they had fallen through was that, when drafting their strategy, they had underestimated their own leverage, never expecting he would be in such high demand?

Cullen did not shy away, responding directly, "I shall do my utmost to cooperate with your arrangements."

Gaspoir let out a sigh and said, "This was actually proposed on my own initiative. Of course, the higher-ups are also pleased to see the handover between you and me. After all, you have a brighter future than I do, and you are better suited for the faction to focus its cultivation upon."

"You applied for it yourself?"

So, it did not stem from pressure exerted by the faction?

"Recently, an incident occurred. The secrecy rating is very high, so you likely do not know of it. However, there is no need to keep it from you."

"What happened?"

"An accident occurred during Mavaryo’s experiment, but given his unique status, both the upper and lower echelons have enforced strict confidentiality."

"Where is Mavaryo now?"

"At the Church Hospital."

...

Cullen left the headquarters building and made his way straight to the Church Hospital.

Mavaryo was residing in the highest-tier ward. Even with Cullen’s status, he was only granted the right to have his presence announced and could not directly enter the room.

Very quickly, however, he received permission to visit Mavaryo.

It was not a ward in the traditional sense, but resembled more of a hot spring pool wherein a precious medicinal bath was churning and bubbling.

When Cullen walked in, Mavaryo was gripping the edge with both hands, his body largely submerged in the pool. It was visible that at the location of his abdomen, there was a dark, ink-black imprint.

Seeing Cullen with his bandages removed, Mavaryo immediately cursed: "Oh, damn it, it looks like your treatment this time was exceptionally effective."

Cullen replied, "I was also wondering why my treatment was so effective this time. It turns out the contamination did not vanish, but merely transferred."

Mavaryo’s previous objective had been to analyze and research the corpse of that six-winged angel to extract the necessary data... Most importantly, the "Great Lord" he had inherited from belonged precisely to the twelve Knights of Order who specialized in the development of warfare instruments.

Therefore, Mavaryo was essentially a "Church munitions manufacturer."

An accident occurring during the development of weapons was an altogether commonplace matter.

Cullen walked up to Mavaryo, squatted down, and asked, "Is the injury severe? Is this contamination of yours difficult to deal with?"

"It cannot be compared at all to the divine contamination you encountered in the cavern. I was merely caught in the crossfire of an experimental accident this time and stained with a bit of it. It can be dealt with, but it will require some time."

"As long as it can be dealt with, it is no great matter."

The young Lord of the Divine Lineage would hardly lack medical resources.

"But the problem lies in..."

"Lies in what?"

Mavaryo patted his perfectly clean chest: "In the beginning, the portion with the contamination imprint was here at my neck, then it transferred to my chest..."

"And now it has reached your abdomen?" Cullen pointed and said.

"Yes, now it has reached the abdomen. Although the contamination is gradually weakening along with the continuous treatment, it..."

"It is transferring."

"Yes, exactly, it is transferring. That is why the physicians halted the treatment to continue extracting the contamination, opting instead for a conservative, temporary sealing therapy. Following the normal progression of treatment, the contamination should gradually shrink... and finally be drawn out from the soles of the feet.

However... as you know, from the abdomen to the soles of the feet, no matter which sole it goes to, it must pass through one particular location."

"I understand. They are afraid that when the contamination passes through there, it might induce some pathological changes?"

"Who knows. I demanded that they continue the treatment, but they lost their nerve. A short while ago, the Temple even specially dispatched someone to visit me, conveying the intent from the Temple.

Do you know what the envoy said? He actually demanded that I leave behind a lineage first before continuing the radical treatment to eradicate the contamination, saying that only in this manner could the health of the offspring be guaranteed.

They care nothing at all for the progress of my research; they only care for my health as a breeding sire.

Working diligently and immersing myself in research, in the end, I could not even compete with my own vessel of life."

"Then, as for the District Chief..."

"They must have looked for her as well. She is my fiancée, do you think they could possibly skip her?"

Cullen finally understood: no wonder Gaspoir wanted to proactively apply to yield her position to him, without him even needing to guide her toward it. She was already setting out to fulfill her destiny herself.

"Hehehe..."

"Cullen, are we still friends? You can actually still laugh? I am practically being sent off to play with a syringe!"

Cullen took a deep breath, suppressing the smile on his face as much as possible. Reaching out, he patted Mavaryo on the shoulder and said:

"Mavaryo."

"Hmm?"

"You truly are my good friend."