Chapter 72: The Generosity of the God of Order

Chapter 72 The Generosity of the God of Order

"Tomorrow is Miss Eunice's birthday?"

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Invite her to dinner tomorrow. Last time your uncle, aunt, and aunt went to the amusement park, it was a breach of etiquette, so we must make it up to her."

"Understood, Grandfather."

"Furthermore, today is Old Hoffen's memorial day."

"Yes, Grandfather, I remember."

"Go over to Number 128."

"Understood, Grandfather."

A memorial day carried much the same meaning as the traditional funerary milestones Karen had been familiar with in his past life; in Rulan, people would pay their respects on specific days following a person's passing.

Yet, why must the memorial for Old Hoffen take place at 128 Mink Street?

What exactly was Grandfather's purpose in having him stare at the candlestick last night, and what did that dream mean?

He had slept the entire night in the study chair—did that mean Dis had only just returned after going out last night? What had Grandfather been busy with all night?

Karen did not ask Dis these questions. Instead, he stood by the window and watched as Dis walked straight back into his own bedroom.

Intuition told Karen that someone at Number 128 would give him the answers.

Going up to the second floor, he poured a glass of water to drink, then returned to the third floor to take a bath in the washroom. Changing into a more formal suit, he skipped breakfast and headed downstairs, preparing to go out.

The telephone in the first-floor living room rang at that exact moment. Karen picked it up.

"Hello, Inmoreis Funeral Home."

"Karen, I'm back," Piaget's voice came through. "Can I come over for a psychological consultation now? The bank just opened, and I've just withdrawn the money."

"I have business to attend to right now."

"Oh, I see."

"You can go home first. Once I've handled things here, I'll come to your house to find you this afternoon."

After all, both Piaget and Eunice lived on Rhine Street. Since he had to visit Eunice's house this afternoon to invite her, it would be the perfect time to see Piaget afterward.

"Alright, alright. I'll brew some coffee at home and wait for you."

"Mm, alright. See you this afternoon."

"See you this afternoon."

Hanging up the phone, Karen walked out of the house.

The rain had stopped in the morning, but the ground remained thoroughly drenched.

Karen arrived at the door of Number 128. Before he could knock, the door opened on its own.

The one who opened the door was Mr. Hoffen, dressed in a sleek, black tailored suit.

Looking at Karen standing outside, Mr. Hoffen said excitedly,

"Oh, Karen, have you come to attend my memorial service?"

"Yes, Mr. Hoffen."

"Then on behalf of myself, I welcome you to my memorial service."

It was a scene that should have been utterly terrifying—a deceased man personally welcoming a guest to his own memorial.

However, while Karen was indeed a bit surprised to see Mr. Hoffen standing there, it was nowhere near shocking.

A small dining table had been added to the first floor, currently set with a few plates of pastries and a pot of tea.

Opposite the small table stood a square wooden stool, upon which rested a funerary portrait.

In the photograph, Old Hoffen wore the exact same clothes as the present Old Hoffen. It must have been taken early this morning... no, probably before daybreak. With Alfred around, such a task posed no difficulty at all.

Noticing Karen looking at his portrait, Mr. Hoffen

smiled and said,

"I think it turned out quite well. It captures my spirit. The only flaw is that the skin on my face is a bit loose. I had Madame Molly do another facelift to tighten it, but clearly, her craftsmanship is nowhere near as good as your aunt's.

But then, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to trouble Mary again, would it?"

"Mm." Karen nodded.

Aunt Mary often boasted that because of her superb makeup skills in the past, celebrities had specifically requested her services.

However, Karen doubted the current Aunt Mary would ever wish for repeat customers with that kind of praise.

"Come, sit."

"Alright, Mr. Hoffen."

"Hmm? What did you call me?"

"Grandfather Hoffen."

"Yes, that's more like it. Call me Grandfather, understand?"

"Understood, Grandfather Hoffen."

"Drop the name."

"Grandfather."

"Ah, good boy."

Mr. Hoffen reached out, gently patting Karen's cheek, and then began to pour the tea. Karen hastily took the teapot to pour it himself.

"In truth, strictly speaking, there is no difference between me and Dis to you."

"Mm," Karen murmured in response. At any rate, Dis was at home.

"Though I kept shouting for Dis to kill you, before I died, I still protected you."

"Yes, I have always remembered your kindness."

"I can tell. I like the epitaph you left beneath my tombstone very much."

"I am glad you like it."

"This is life, this is the human journey. Obsessions are like spiderwebs—easily scattered and easily broken. We may be powerless to change anything, but we can manage to cherish what we once held.

Though, I only gained this insight after crawling out of the grave and seeing that inscription.

Someone who hasn't died once can never truly empathize."

As he said this, Hoffen looked at Karen with a smile.

Karen raised his teacup and took a sip.

"When the memorial service is over, cremate me next time."

"Alright." Karen nodded.

"This body of mine can't handle another 'awakening' anyway, alas." Mr. Hoffen picked up a piece of pastry and placed it on the plate before Karen. "Eat. I cannot eat anything anymore; I can no longer taste anything now."

"Very well." Cullen began to eat; he had skipped breakfast and was indeed feeling rather famished.

Mr. Hoffen, meanwhile, commenced a thorough recounting of all that had transpired the previous night.

Cullen listened with profound attentiveness, taking his tea and pastries in stride;

until,

"What? Are you saying, sir, that an evil god now resides within Kevin's body?"

"Indeed," Mr. Hoffen nodded with a slight smile. "That is the gift your two grandfathers—Dis and I—have bestowed upon you. Do you care for it?"

"Grandfather, what I mean to ask is, is this entirely safe?"

"I charted and laid the array myself, so rest easy; it is secure as can be. However, you must take this." Mr. Hoffen handed Cullen a notebook. "Contained within are several formations and methodologies I have set down. They are of no use to you at present, but in time, you shall likely find a purpose for them."

"I see. Thank you, Grandfather."

Cullen idly flipped open a page,

where a minor heading read: *The Taboo Array of the Church of the Dark Night—Sorrow of the Night*;

he turned another leaf,

and the next section was captioned: *The Taboo Array of the Church of Order—Divine Judgment*;

Cullen instantly snapped the volume shut. Well then, pardon the intrusion.

Thus, it became clear how Mr. Hoffen had earned the privilege of being Dis's companion. Though he might appear fragile—and, in truth, physically he was quite frail—on an entirely different plane, he epitomized the ancient maxim... that knowledge is absolute power.

This was undeniably an entity not to be underestimated; perhaps, much like Dis, he had simply chosen the path of obscurity, which explained his unassuming station within the Church of Principles.

"When I related this to you just now, you scarcely seemed astonished.

No,

was your shock reserved solely for that hound?"

"Because certain doubts had already taken root in my mind," Cullen answered smoothly. "I have merely obtained the confirmation from you now."

"Ah, so that is how it stands." Mr. Hoffen suddenly lowered his voice, asking, "In that case, pray tell me: how did you manage to displace an evil deity and successfully claim the very bed he had warmed for himself?"

Cullen gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Grandfather, upon my honor, I truly do not know."

"Your grandfather believes you."

The two men sat facing one another across the table.

"How fare your affections with Miss Eunice?"

"Excellently."

"Is the young lady fair to look upon?"

"She is beautiful."

"Beautiful is well enough. In truth, men and women are much the same; so long as the other party possesses a pleasing countenance, one is willing to endure far more grievances, and, well, one's temper cools much faster besides.

Regrettably, however, my inheritance has been utterly carved up and carried off by my children. Even my house has already been sold, leaving me unable to return to my own hearth to observe my own Day of the Dead rites.

Consequently, your grandfather is quite unable to leave you any gold."

"Think nothing of it, Grandfather. The notebook you just gave me is already a treasure beyond price."

"It only goes to show that once a man expires, even his tea turns cold before its time." Mr. Hoffen pointed toward the teacup cradled in his palm; because he was now a frigid corpse, the tea held in his grasp naturally lost its warmth far more rapidly.

With these words, Mr. Hoffen hauled a massive sack from beneath the table and proffered it to Cullen:

"These constitute a comprehensive compendium of rudimentary arrays, which I stayed up through the night to compose. Before long, once you depart for Wien and undergo the purification to harbor the power of faith within your flesh, you may attempt to study and employ them. I have provided meticulous annotations and commentaries, and the underlying principles and critical cautions have been thoroughly expounded. Formations from various denominations are included."

Cullen gazed upon the ten dense volumes resting before him, his countenance registering utter astonishment:

"All of these... you penned them just last night?"

"In former days, I disdained the keeping of notes, preferring to store everything within my mind. As you know, such knowledge is strictly forbidden by many churches; they would never permit its dissemination, and recording it risked causing monumental calamity should it ever be misplaced.

But now, it matters not at all. After all, I am already dead.

My offspring have divided my worldly goods, and my obligations toward them have been fully discharged."

"What I meant to say, Grandfather, is that you write with incredible speed."

"Ah, it is achieved through the most elementary sorcery of the Church of Principles. It serves equally well for writing text or sketching arrays, multiplying one's efficiency countless times over. So long as your intellect can keep pace, the nib of your pen shall never falter.

I am rather dull-witted; of all the true sorceries, this happens to be the only one I ever mastered."

"You are a magnificent genius," Cullen remarked softly.

"Dis is the true genius." Mr. Hoffen dismissed the praise with a wave of his hand. "I shall not contest that title with him, for it is an impossible contest. Never have I beheld a man whose greatest agony and fiercest resistance in life was the prospect of ascending to godhood."

Mr. Hoffen seemed suddenly to recall a pressing matter, and enquired:

"Tomorrow marks the final day, does it not? I am speaking of Dis."

"Yes."

"And what are the arrangements for tomorrow?"

"Grandfather desired that I invite Miss Eunice to dine at our home."

"He truly loves you, Cullen."

"I am well aware."

"I shall likely meet my end the day after tomorrow. I shall endeavor to endure until Dis's appointed day arrives. Ah, remember, see to it that I am cremated. There is no need to gather my ashes; simply find a river and consign me to the currents.

Alternatively, on your carriage ride home after the burning, you may scatter me directly out the window, though do try to avoid choking the pedestrians, for that would be a breach of public decorum."

"Very well, Grandfather. I shall hold it in remembrance."

"Have you eaten your fill?"

"Yes, I am fully satisfied."

"Then, I, Hoffen, acting on behalf of Hoffen himself, declare the rites of the Day of the Dead concluded."

Cullen stood up from his seat;

"Be on your way, then. You must extend the invitation to Miss Eunice for tomorrow's dinner, must you not?"

"In truth, there is one matter I have long wished to ask you."

"Oh? Very well, speak your mind."

"Under the weight of that transcendent ritual of divine descent... Grandfather, what price did he ultimately pay?"

"The reality of the matter is that Dis paid no price whatsoever. Though he stood fully prepared to forfeit all, the God of Order claimed nothing."

"Claimed nothing at all?"

"Indeed, absolutely nothing," Mr. Hoffen said with a light chuckle. "Because that 'Cullen' did not return to life, and even though an evil deity was summoned, that entity never truly entered this vessel.

In my estimation, it must be because the ritual failed to achieve its end; one might even characterize it as an unmitigated and total failure of a ceremony.

It is precisely like conducting a piece of business: the altar and the extensive preparations are merely the earnest money. If the counterparty fails to deliver the merchandise in the end, would you be so foolish as to hand over the remaining balance?"

"Is that how it transpired? Very well, I understand."

"Do not harbor anxieties; you must maintain absolute faith in Dis."

"I have always been quite confident."

"That is well."

"Then, Grandfather Hoffen... no, Grandfather, I shall take my leave now."

"Remember to come collect my corpse in two days."

"Very well, Grandfather."

Mr. Hoffen stood by the doorway, watching Karen walk out until his figure vanished around the corner of the street. Only then did he close the door, leaning his body against the wooden panel as he murmured in contemplation:

"A thoroughly failed ritual?

Those involved in preparing that ritual were actually not just Diss alone, but four people.

Diss,

Myself,

Pu'er,

And that Lady Linda from the Church of the Wall God.

Diss obtained his favorite grandson. I can tell that Diss's affection for this child comes genuinely from the heart, even transcending the boundaries of blood.

Because this child, whether in temperament, character, habits, or other displayed traits, aligns perfectly with Diss himself.

Perhaps this is somewhat unfair to the previous 'Karen,'

But without a doubt, the current Karen is the one who truly fits the image of a grandson in Diss's heart.

As for me,

Before my death, I helped Diss summon an evil god, and after death, I could still crawl out of the graveyard to help Diss seal another evil god.

Is this not precisely my dream?

To live a lifetime strictly abiding by dogma, always walking along the path of rules, yet deep within my heart, there was always a sense of unwilling resentment, a desire for a true moment of indulgence.

And Pu'er?

She is about to follow Karen back to Wien, and moreover, she is returning to her own family.

Back then, she broke off ties with her family and ended up living as a cat under someone else's roof for a hundred years. What was her greatest dream?

To dream that one day, she could return home to visit with perfect justification?

As for Linda, she fulfilled her long-cherished wish. Though her divine descent ritual failed, she finally beheld the true visage of the god she worshipped;

Or perhaps, the husband she had always cared for and felt guilt toward had also found a close friend who could keep him company after her departure? Did this not precisely resolve her worries?"

Mr. Hoffen reached up, pulling back up the skin of his face which had slipped down once more:

"So, can it be understood this way:

In truth, the God of Order might have already given all of us exactly what we wanted?

If so,

The God of Order,

What is it that he truly desires?"

—

There will be another large chapter during the day, followed by the VIP release testimonial, holding everyone close!