Chapter 751: Cat's Surprise!

Chapter 751: The Cat's Surprise!

Stepping out of the barrier, Karen got into the car and said, "To the Demon Beast Research Institute."

"Okay."

Philomena started the car.

Sitting in the back seat, Karen leafed through documents while asking, "Do you want to go?"

"Go where?" Philomena glanced at Karen through the rearview mirror, her hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel. Clearly, she knew what Karen was referring to, but she was asking on purpose.

Sometimes, the thoughts of an autistic girl were truly easy to guess. If one disregarded the razor-sharp edge of her blades, she could be considered childishly cute.

"Didn't you say you like that kind of life in the desert?"

"Can I go with you?"

"If my surgery goes smoothly, you can be responsible for protecting Purr."

"Okay." Philomena nodded.

"Reluctantly?"

Philomena said calmly, "No, I am very excited."

"I don't feel it."

Philomena spoke loudly, "I am very excited!"

Then, she even honked the horn twice:

"Honk! Honk!"

"Heh."

Karen shook his head and lowered his gaze back to the documents.

After a while, Philomena spoke up on her own initiative: "District Chief, you are really good to Purr."

"Hmm?"

"I mean, you are able to give her freedom."

"That sounds as if I have been keeping her imprisoned all this time."

Purr had been a cat for over a hundred years, spending the vast majority of her time in the Inmeris household. Yet it was not Inmeris holding her captive; rather, it was Inmeris sheltering her.

"You also gave Miss Eunice freedom."

Karen knew that Philomena was referring to the last time during the study meeting at the Allen Manor, when Eunice was participating in a designer exchange conference in Sampu City, and he did not have Old Anderson call her back.

"Why, shouldn't I?"

"I originally thought that men—no, men like you, District Chief—would prefer women who are like decorative vases."

"Did someone say something to you, Grandmother?"

"She chatted with me after training a few days ago, talking a lot about her past and her choices."

"You think she was hinting at something to you?"

"I don't know."

"She probably just felt like talking on a whim, don't overthink it."

Karen did not believe his grandmother was hinting anything to Philomena, because his grandmother did not agree to a girl from the Felscher family becoming her granddaughter-in-law. She likely just recalled her own youth during training and took a moment to reminisce.

"She said I could try to change. She said her kind of life is also very happy."

"No need to listen to her. She only found an honest man to marry after she had played enough in her youth."

"I understand."

The car drove out of the suburbs of York City and was about to arrive at the institute when a small truck appeared ahead, parked by the roadside.

As the secondhand black Pence sedan Karen was riding in drew level with the truck, the side of the cargo container dropped right down, revealing a magical heavy crossbow loaded with three arrows.

An elderly man dressed in a standard-issue suit, his palms radiating a deep green glow, struck the firing mechanism of the heavy crossbow.

It was a sudden, caught-off-guard assassination.

Karen had already shifted his gaze away from the documents, turning his face to look.

Philomena made the same movement, but at the same time her right hand pressed a button, causing an embedded crystal to drop into a slot, activating the defense array of this modified vehicle.

The three crossbow bolts shot out, slamming into the sedan's defense array. The bolts shattered instantly, but the immense force still flipped the sedan Karen was sitting in, sending it rolling down the hillside on the side of the road.

If Karen had been sitting in an ordinary sedan, those three crossbow bolts would have achieved instantaneous penetration. If his mind had really been wandering or if he had been dozing off at that moment, his body might well have been bored through with a large hole.

“Enough, enough, we shall speak of this another time. Is the motor carriage still drivable? Inspect it.”

Karen stepped down from the cabin. Philomena walked over, lifted the carriage with a single hand, and steadily righted it.

Witnessing this, Karen felt that the portion size of his breakfast had manifested a most distinct and evident value.

Philomena climbed back inside, started the engine once more, and remarked, “It still runs.”

Karen nodded. “Remarkable quality.”

Cutting the engine, Philomena stepped out, hoisted the vehicle onto her shoulder, trudged up the slope, and set it down upon returning to the road surface.

After boarding, just as she prepared to set off again, she suddenly noticed the carriage was facing the wrong way, pointing toward the path they had come.

She opened the door, stepped out, bent down to lift the carriage, turned it around, and set it down once more.

“Philomena.”

“Yes?”

“One can also turn around while sitting inside the carriage.”

“I have not forgotten. This is simply less troublesome.”

“Indeed, that makes perfect sense.”

Once both had seated themselves inside, Karen seemed to recall something and said, “Check if the coffee in the drawer has spilled.”

Philomena opened the drawer, retrieved a tin of coffee from within, and replied, “It has not spilled.”

“Very well, let us resume our journey.”

Philomena released a black crow to notify the Whip of Order that an assassination attempt had occurred here, leaving them to tend to the aftermath. Forthwith, she continued driving to deliver Karen to the research institute.

Having secured an appointment in advance, Karen arrived to find the Director and Deputy Directors of the institute remarkably seated in the guardroom, chatting with the sentries under the guise of sympathizing with the hardships of the grassroots staff.

Upon entry, Karen was escorted directly to the Director’s office.

A cordial exchange of pleasantries was unavoidable; after all, he would soon need to borrow some of the institute's facilities and experts, and due courtesy had to be extended.

Karen went so far as to grant the requests of several directors to arrange for their nephews to be placed within the Whip of Order for tempering.

It was a matter of back-door pull, yet not entirely so, for in times of peace, the Whip of Order was considered the highest-risk system within the Holy Church. Furthermore, with the mobilization of the militia regiment, the Whip of Order would still hold priority when it came to alternating training and personnel replenishment.

It could be said that this manner of “back-door seeking” from the directors instead commanded a touch of solemn respect.

Naturally, this was also owing to the fact that they were presently facing Karen. Before such a young District Head possessed of a glorious record, men would subconsciously wish to appear a bit cleaner; this, too, was a manifestation of Karen’s exemplary leadership.

Having dealt with them, Karen proceeded to the laboratory of Aisli’s parents, where he handed them the surgical plan, knowing they would understand the need for secrecy in this matter.

“This plan is remarkably detailed.”

“Indeed, it has been drafted with immense thoughtfulness.”

Karen inquired, “Is there a need for any additional preparations?”

“Lord District Head, originally we felt it necessary to request assistance, perhaps even calling in external experts to help. Now, it seems that will not be required.”

“For this plan simplifies details down to a level of complete idiot-proof operation, even including a breakdown of refined maneuvers. For the sake of better confidentiality, the two of us as husband and wife can complete this surgery alone. It is merely that the operation will take somewhat longer, and furthermore, we need to familiarize ourselves with the plan twice through.”

It appeared that although he had merely asked Loya to have the artifacts of the Forbidden Space draft a surgical plan, they had exceeded their duties, detailing every single step as though producing a textbook.

Karen asked, “So, how soon can the surgery take place?”

“By midnight tonight, everything can be prepared.”

Karen nodded. “Good. Then I shall not leave; I will wait here.”

“Has Aisli not returned with you? I shall notify her to return so she may entertain you.”

Karen waved his hand. “No need. Attend to your work, I shall go feed Sindy myself.”

Stepping out of the laboratory, Karen instructed Philomena to head to the Allen Manor now to fetch Puer, while he himself walked over to the monster rearing sector, making straight for the great transparent glass dome housing Sindy.

When coming out, he had forgotten to secure an escort and lacked a token, so the door lock could not be opened.

Upon sighting Karen, Sindy immediately flattened itself against the opposite side of the glass dome in sheer terror. Only when it realized Karen seemed unable to enter did it finally breathe a sigh of relief.

However, Karen, disinclined to walk back for the token and key, set about breaking the restriction directly. Before long, without damaging the lock's enchantment, a crisp click sounded, and the door swung open.

Karen stepped inside.

With his current status, to say nothing of breaking open a monster cage, even if he were to follow the example of Dicalost in his day by plucking Sindy and roasting it, the Director of the institute would at most report that “Sindy succumbed to illness.”

Karen sat upon a wooden stump in the central area of the dome. Sindy remained quite fearful, not daring to draw near.

“Come, take flight,” Karen gestured.

Sindy did not stir.

The hierarchy of human rank was evidently beyond its direct comprehension, until Karen spoke a second time:

“Take flight and put on a display, my dearest friend.”

Sindy’s eyes instantly widened as though experiencing an acute stress response. It immediately spread its wings and began to dance in the air.

As expected of a sacrificial bird specially bred, its posture was exquisite. Not only was its plumage magnificent, but unlike other avian creatures that carried a foul odor, it possessed an inherent, exotic fragrance.

There was a period in history when members of the Holy Church relished dipping a Sindy feather into their teacup while drinking tea.

It had to be said that the destiny of the Sindy clan closely mirrored that of his grandmother’s Art family, steeped in bitter tears.

After sitting for a while, Karen simply lay down to sleep, conserving his energy for the late-night surgery.

Seeing Karen asleep, Sindy ceased its flight, touched down, and stood waiting by his side.

Philomena returned with the cat.

Little Canna had accompanied Puer. The moment she stepped out of the carriage, she dashed toward the monster rearing sector, for she could perceive Karen’s aura.

Puer lay somewhat languidly upon the rear seat of the carriage. Of late, it had been rather fatigued and occupied. Not only was the task of relocating the graves far more complicated than imagined, but giving lessons to Eunice also left it feeling mentally exhausted.

It was not that Eunice lacked sufficient talent; in truth, her talent was exceedingly grand. The power of family faith within her could spontaneously coalesce and revolve. This meant that even if she did nothing at all—even if she merely ate, slept, painted, and read every day—by the time she reached her thirties or forties in middle age, she could still attain Rank 7 in the family faith system.

One could not tell whether the Allen bloodline had finally begun to surge back after thinning to a certain degree, or whether Dis’s eye for selection was truly superb; in short, Eunice represented the most excellent eruption of bloodline power in several generations.

Yet, Eunice’s greatest flaw lay in her lack of the foundational groundwork that should have been laid from her childhood, and her current rank in the family faith system had been attained merely through slumber.

Puer’s desire to mold her into what it once was proved instantly arduous, requiring a vast amount of remedial tutoring. It could only curse old Anderson and his lot time and again for deliberately withholding her bloodline awakening back then just to marry off their granddaughter easily, thus delaying her potential.

However, the most exhausting aspect was that Puer itself was a genius, and geniuses often lacked patience when instructing others. Coupled with the fact that those who had grown up under its very eyes were Dis and Karen, its perception of “imparting knowledge” had already become distorted.

On many occasions when it lectured, Eunice would listen intently, yet Puer would often explain it thus:

“Just do this a bit, then that a bit, and it is done. Do you understand, meow?”

Many times mid-lecture, Puer would lose its temper—not at Eunice, but primarily at itself. For it understood from the bottom of its heart that Karen demanded nothing of Eunice’s strength. Even if Eunice were a mere ordinary person, Karen would not mind in the slightest.

That Her Highness Ophelia on Dark Moon Island, even if she swung her greatsword until sparks flew, could not compare to its own great-great-great-great-grandniece pushing open a window to smile at him upon his return.

Puer knew that for men and women who were themselves exceptional, their expectations of a spouse were inherently different from those of ordinary folk.

Ordinary people would consider a spouse’s income, family background, personal capability, and the like. Yet those two had already resolved the necessities of survival and security; they cared more about whether a spouse could provide emotional value.

Thus, wealthy men favored simple ornaments, and wealthy women favored coddled young men.

In other words, Puer knew that its current eagerness to impart knowledge to Eunice was not only devoid of practical utility... it might even yield the opposite effect. Heavens forbid that one day when Karen returned to seek his great-great-great-great-grandniece, he might be informed she was in solitary meditation preparing for a breakthrough, and had no time!

Originally, the pair coexisted in absolute comfort. One was willing to shoulder every responsibility, and indeed accomplished it; the other cared nothing for so-called “independence” or “value,” thoroughly enjoying the sensation of being cherished. If it were to forcibly compel Eunice to master the abilities of the family faith system and seek a breakthrough, would it instead introduce friction into their marital affection?

A two-hundred-year-old cat with a penchant for romance novels had recently found herself adrift in a disorienting haze, caught between the realm of the spirit and the weight of reality.

On her quest to find Karen, little Conna passed by the cage of Mombas, the Wolf of the Storm, who raised his heavy head and bared his teeth at her:

"Roar!"

Little Conna pressed her hands against her cheeks and shot right back at the tempestuous beast:

"Wah-hoo!"

The Storm Wolf was suddenly seized by a primal terror that shook his very soul, instantly curling himself into the farthest corner with a pitiful, whimpering whine.

Conna found Karen just as he was stirring from sleep, feeling thoroughly refreshed after a slumber so sublime that he was tempted to ask Aisli’s parents for some of Shandy’s feathers to turn into sleep-inducing incense back home.

Karen held little Conna's hand as they walked back to the laboratory entrance, where Purr scrambled straight up to perch upon Karen's shoulder and chided the girl:

"Alright, you've been here so many times and you're still playing around, hurry inside for your physical examination."

Karen looked toward Philomena, realizing she had not given any advance warning.

"She is not the one getting examined this time, you are."

"An exam for me?" Purr looked at Karen, her feline eyes filled with doubt.

"Yes, your exam, and once we ensure everything is fine, we can prepare to begin the surgery."

"Surgery? What surgery?" As Purr asked, her feline eyes gradually widened, and her whiskers bristled with sudden realization, "Could it be..."

Karen turned to Philomena: "Do you know how to brew coffee?"

Philomena shook her head, paused in thought, and then replied with utmost gravity: "Richard does."

Little Conna piped up: "I do."

"How do you know how?" Karen asked.

"Sister Purr taught me, she said an elegant, noble lady must master the art of brewing coffee."

"Ahem... Meow."

That was merely because she wanted you to brew it for her.

Karen bent down and instructed little Conna: "When they notify us from inside that the surgery is nearing its end, go and brew some coffee."

Immediately after, Karen reached out to stroke Purr’s back, and out of habit, Purr wrapped her tail around his fingers.

Karen said:

"Once the surgery is over, you will be able to hold the cup and drink coffee with your own hands."