13 Mink Street

Saman climbed out of the coffin, only to stop beside it and not take another step. His eyes held equal parts caution and contemplation. His face was weathered by hardship, yet what shone through at this moment was something closer to the restraint of an infant facing an unfamiliar world.

Meanwhile, Karon continued eating his egg fried rice. He was truly hungry.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Alfred entered with a small dish of pickled vegetables Karon had prepared himself and a glass of ice water. After setting them down in front of Karon, Alfred glanced at Saman, who still stood beside the coffin, and greeted him with a smile, “Oh? You’re up now?”

With that, Alfred turned and left the bedroom again, closing the door behind him.

Saman began moving, slowly, one tiny step at a time. He approached the bowl of fried rice. After looking at the food, he looked at Karon. While looking at the young man, Saman’s eyes flickered and his gaze drifted, as though he still could not quite focus steadily.

Karon picked up a slice of pickled ginger, dropped it into his bowl, and then sent it to his mouth with a bite of rice. Chewing, he asked, “Can you still eat?”

“I... don’t know.”

“Then try.”

“Oh... all right.” Saman sat down, picked up the bowl, pulled out the chopsticks that had been stuck upright in the rice, and proceeded to take a mouthful of rice. He chewed.

“Well?”

“A little salty...”

“Really? I thought it was a bit bland.” Karon shrugged. “Maybe you’re getting old and can’t handle strong flavors anymore.”

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” As he asked the question, Saman turned his head to look back at the coffin behind him. He had clearly arranged a teleportation array, one that should have sent his coffin carrying his corpse into a torrent of space upon his death. Yet both he and the coffin had appeared in this bedroom instead.

Saman was quite familiar with this room. After all, he had been in it during the day to examine his old refrigerator.

The coffin had been sent into the spatial current, only to be dragged back to this bedroom, and Saman himself, who had died, had been brought back with the Awakening Art.

For a moment, the old man did not know what sort of mood he ought to have when facing the young man sitting on a cushion, eating egg fried rice.

Saman had once thought it would be the captain, Nio, who was truly skilled at hiding himself. Who would have thought that this boy was the one who concealed himself the deepest of all?

“Are you curious how, despite already being dead, you can still taste salt and blandness?”

“Maybe... maybe it’s because my corpse was preserved well?”

“I see. Then I understand.” Karon nodded.

Saman had killed himself. The mass of blue flame had cut off his life in an instant, but precisely because of that, it had preserved his body to the greatest degree possible. All of his organs were still functioning.

But such functionality would only be temporary. It could not persist forever. As the remnant spirituality within the corpse dissipated, each organ would begin to fail, one after another. In the end, Saman would become a truly decayed corpse.

“Who... exactly are you?”

Once before, after being Awakened, Earl Rekar had asked Karon the very same question in much the same tone. Given the framework of their understanding, any being capable of awakening either of the men had to be shockingly powerful and terrifying.

“In your eulogy, you lamented there would be no chance to begin again, so I gave you one.”

Saman said nothing. His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he gave up on asking any further questions regarding Karon’s identity. The old man trembled faintly. One hand held the bowl while the other vigorously rubbed his own face.

Because today had been his funeral, Ms. Lake had applied makeup for him. After such a scrubbing, the makeup was completely smeared across his face.

“My funeral... was ruined.”

“It wasn’t. Your funeral was finished.”

“But what meaning does that have? Even if I don’t understand why you Awakened me, what meaning is there in granting me three more days after my funeral? In three days, won’t I disappear completely all the same?”

“But what I can give you is not just three days.”

“What?!”

“I know that I ought to possess that ability; I just can’t do it yet. Still, in the not too distant future, I should be able to grant you a longer Awakening.”

“Grant me... more time Awakened?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible. The Church of Order’s Awakening Art cannot reach that level. If it could, then the Church of Order would long used the First Knight Regiment long ago to become the one and only orthodox church.”

The entire ecclesiastical world knew that Order’s First Knight Regiment was genuinely terrifying, yet the entire ecclesiastical world also knew that unless things reached a truly critical point, the First Knight Regiment would never be deployed.

“There’s no need for me to deceive you. If I wanted something from you, I wouldn’t need to obtain it by lying.”

At that moment, the bedroom door opened again and Pu’er rode in atop Kevin. “Karon, next time, make more fish aspic, will you? There wasn’t enough.”

“All right. I’ll make more another day when I have time.”

Saman stared at Pu’er as she spoke. A talking cat did not particularly shock him; Talking demonic beasts were rare, but it was not as though he had never seen one before. There were several lineages in the world that publicly claimed to be family faith systems, yet were truly nothing more than manifestations of demonic beast bloodlines.

“Old man, you’re awake,” Pu’er said, greeting Saman. She then noticed the bowl in his hands. “So the dead can eat after all. What I mean is, you eat it, but can you actually digest it?”

Saman put a hand to his stomach. “I can feel that it still moves. Slowly, but I can still get it to work.”

“Oh? Then you’d better eat more fruit. Be careful not to get constipated.” Pu’er jumped down from Kevin’s back and climbed onto Karon’s shoulder, and rubbing his face with a paw. “We’re going to the pottery studio tomorrow, right?”

“Mhmm. Mm? No, that won’t work.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I nearly forgot. Tomorrow I have to go to Richard’s house for dinner.”

“Oh. Well, meeting relatives is more important. It’s all right. Kevin and I can wait a little longer. The puppets can’t be made quickly anyway. We need to give Mr. Lemar time to procure the rare materials.”

“I also need to prepare some gifts. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Wait, when you went to my house, did you take a gift?” Pu’er asked.

“No. For your household, I myself was the best gift.”

Pu’er froze, but then nodded. “That’s shameless, yet it also seems to be true.”

While Karon chatted with Pu’er, Kevin walked over to Saman. The man looked at the golden retriever and gave him a bitter smile. Saman then crouched down and rubbed the dog’s bald head.

Kevin backed up two steps. He always carried a little shoulder bag, and he now slipped it off and used a paw to drag a compass out of one of the side pockets before setting it down in front of Saman.

Up to that point, Saman still did not think anything particularly strange, but then he realized that the dog was actually using its paw to recalibrate the complicated and precise compass.

“...”

Kevin raised his head and the dog stared at the shocked Saman. Then, Kevin grinned broadly.

“You’re not an ordinary dog!”

Kevin continued to smile.

“You’re demonkin!”

Kevin’s smile grew stiff.

Saman turned to Karon, pointing at Kevin as he asked, “This demonkin understands the concepts of space?”

The moment Pu’er, sitting on Karon’s shoulder, heard that question, she burst out laughing. “That stupid dog may rank low in our household, but if you call him a demonkin, you’re really looking down on our family members too much!

“Prepare yourself, stupid dog. It’s time.”

Kevin straightened at once, holding his head up high, his eyes growing solemn.

“Old man, listen carefully. Standing before you now is:

“Born from a grand divine descent ritual,

“Guardian of the Goddess Mios,

“Lifelong enemy of the Sea God,

“The hidden hand behind the collapse of the Sea God Church,

“Heretical god designated by the Church of Order, Rhanedar!”

Kevin stretched out one leg and traced a circle in front of himself before lowering his head in greeting.

Saman stared at the dog in front of him. He then looked at Pu’er, and finally turned to Karon, who nodded. “That’s true. He is a heretical god. If you hadn’t handed him that compass to fiddle with, your coffin wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Saman’s mouth fell open. He did not know what he should say at this moment, so he simply stood there with his mouth open.

“I know you probably need some quiet right now, but there’s something I need to remind you of: the blueprints you drew for me earlier today need to be turned into actual objects as soon as possible. At the very least, the first coffin needs to be finished so that you yourself can lie in it.

“You’ll need to stay preserved for a bit longer. Once I master the ability to replenish spiritual power for you, I’ll wake you all again.”

“You... all?”

Pu’er replied, “You’re not the first; You’re the second. The first was the sea-ranging pirate’s son, leader of the Allen family’s rise, Rekar Allen.”

“When you say names, do you really have to attach so many titles?” Karon looked at Pu’er. “Doesn’t that feel a little too ostentatious?”

“It creates a sense of ceremony. It can’t be omitted. I even drafted one for you, and it’s very long. Do you want to hear it?”

“Uh... no.”

“I’m the second... and there are a total of twelve coffins...” Saman seemed to suddenly think of something, and a look of shock appeared on his face. This time, it was complete and total shock, because he had realized a terrifying possibility regarding the true identity of the young man before him.

“That’s the situation.” Karon finished his meal and set the bowl and chopsticks down on the floor. “I’ve Awakened you. You currently have three more days. If you want the chance to begin again, you can start by making your special coffin now.

“Of course, if you refuse, I won’t force you. Believe it or not, I have no ability to force you anyway. Simply consider this as three more days of ‘light.’ You could even set up another teleportation array and send yourself back into the spatial currents.

“But if you do, don’t let the dog tune the compass for you again.”

“Why would I refuse?” Saman laughed. “The current me is no longer the original me. The current me merely inherited my own memories.”

“That becomes a philosophical question,” Karon retorted.

“Oh, I’m not trying to debate the issue, I simply feel much lighter now. Because the current me no longer has any connection to the Church of Pamireth, so I can finally be free and do as I like, can’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Do I need to submit to you?” Saman asked.

“I don’t require submission in form.” Karon shook his head. “There’s no meaning in that question.”

“Yes, there really isn’t.” Saman nodded. “When you possess the ability to Awaken us and sustain that Awakening, in any meaningful sense, we’re already in your hands. At the moment, I have no real choice anyway. So let’s move faster. Where’s the workshop? Have the materials been bought? Are there helpers ready? I want to start working now. Once I’m lying in that special coffin, I’ll have ample time to think through everything that happened today.”

“That works.”

“Then call in your attendant.”

“Alfred,” Karon called.

The man opened the bedroom door and came in. Looking at Saman, he smiled. “Your mental adjustment is much better than I expected.”

“I want to know how the first one dealt with it,” Saman asked.

Alfred replied, “He knelt immediately.”

“...”

“Of course, you don’t need to kneel. Young Master doesn’t like that sort of thing. What Young Master pursues is equality, equality of personhood, because on the road toward truth, we share the same aspiration.

“Come now, follow me. I already prepared the materials, so we can begin at once. After all, your time is limited.”

Saman walked towards the door. As he passed Alfred, he asked in befuddlement, “I remember you spoke to me with respectful forms of address before.”

“Yes, because then, you were a guest.”

“And now? I'm staff?”

“I would prefer to call you a competitor.”

“A competitor? Competing in what?”

“When you wake next time, I’ll explain it to you properly. There’s no meaning in saying anything now, is there?”

“All right. I’ll remind you next time I wake up.”

“Certainly.”

Alfred led Saman out of the bedroom and towards the courtyard. Ciri had just finished tidying up the kitchen and was leaving, ready to return to her own room to go to sleep. “Good night, Mr. Alfred. Good night, Mr. Saman.”

“Good night, Ciri.”

“Good night, girl.”

Ciri opened the door to her room, stepped inside, closed it, leaned her back against the door, and repeated in a daze, “Good night... Mr. Saman?”

Outside, Pike and Dinkom had just finished tidying up the mourning hall. When they saw Alfred leading Saman over, the two assistants stared at the old man, and then looked at each other.

“I regret to inform you that you’ll be working overtime tonight,” Alfred announced, clapping his hands. “At the same time, I’m pleased to inform you that there will be overtime pay.”

Because his bed had collapsed, Karon slept on a mat on the floor of his own bedroom that night. When he woke and sat up in the morning, his back felt a bit stiff. He still preferred a soft mattress. He was not used to hard bedding.

After washing up and taking a bath in the washroom, Karon stepped out of the bedroom and first went to the storage shed at the very north end of the courtyard. The sound of hammering had not ceased inside, which meant the work had continued throughout the entire night.

Karon pushed the door open and went in. Pike and Dinkom were marking lines onto boards according to the blueprints. The plans were densely packed with various markings, and the boards before them were no different. Their eyes were bloodshot.

Alfred was carving the array according to the marked lines, while Saman was grinding down the core components, both his hands glowing with blue light the whole time.

It was a very primitive sort of handwork, almost like carpentry. There was not the slightest bit of an appearance of grandeur or advanced methods being employed, yet the details revealed delicate craftsmanship and advanced education. Alfred wore only a sleeveless undershirt, and was in high spirits. He had clearly learned and gained a great deal over the course of the night.

“Good morning,” Karon greeted them first.

“Morning, Boss.”

“Morning, Boss.”

“Good morning, Young Master.”

Saman looked at Karon. After an entire night of work, he still had not completely processed everything from the previous evening, but had at least sorted out his own mood. Looking at Karon, he helplessly said, “You are the darkest hearted factory owner I have ever met. No, not even the darkest hearted factory owner can compare to one-thousandth of you.”

“What did I do?”

“I genuinely never imagined that a thing I drew blueprints for while alive during the day would have me dragged back to finish it the night after my death. Ordinary factory owners exploit the working hours of the living, while you don’t even let the dead go.”

“You designed this thing yourself, which means that it’s faster and easier for you to make it. More importantly, only when the first coffin is made by you will the rest have a practical precedent and a higher margin of safety.”

Saman rolled his eyes at Karon, and then proceeded to bury himself in the work before of him.

Karon turned and left, heading toward the kitchen. At the entrance, he found Ciri crouched down, peeling garlic. She glanced up first, and immediately stood. “Good morning, Young Master.”

“Morning.”

“Will you make your own breakfast?”

“I’m going to boil some dumplings.”

“All right, Young Master.” Ciri crouched back down, though this time, she turned so her back was towards him.

Karon was just about to set a pot of water to boil when Ms. Lake came over. “Someone’s here to see you. Says his name is Borg.”

“Oh. All right.”

“Shall I let him in?”

“Yes. He’s one of ours.” Karon walked out to see Borg standing at the entrance of the courtyard, a satchel on his back.

All this time, Borg had served as the go-between linking Karon’s side and Allen Manor.

“Let’s talk in the study,” Karon said.

“Yes, Young Master.”

After entering the study, Borg took several documents out of his satchel. They were likely recently prepared papers concerning the forthcoming trade between Allen Manor and Darkmoon Island, but Karon was not particularly interested in them.

Instead, what caught his attention were two letters that arrived with those documents.

“Have you had breakfast?” Karon asked Borg.

“I am hungry, Young Master, but I'll scrounge some breakfast in the kitchen before heading back to the manor.” Borg grinned.

Once he had left, Karon picked up the first letter. The envelope showed Ophelia had sent it.

The envelope was pale blue, delicate and elegant, and carried a faint fragrance.

“Aha! Caught you red-handed!” Pu’er suddenly sprang out, landing on the desk and pointing at the letter in Karon’s hand, the one from Ophelia. “Look at that envelope! This envelope, this perfume! Tsk tsk. This is evidence. Evidence!”

“This is evidence?” Karon asked.

“What else would it be?”

“Then... what is this?” Karon picked up the second letter. It was in a pink envelope with a dark moon drawn on it. At the center of that dark moon, there was a little heart symbol. The sender’s name was Bernard.

Pu’er froze on the desk.

Then, in utter shock, she blurted, “How... how could he possibly still be alive!”

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