"Royal, aristocratic, ducal, luxurious, distinguished, generous... the Golden Coffin."
"Elegant, understated, composed, wise, discerning, calm... the Light Breeze Coffin."
In the living room,
Kallen sat on the small sofa, leafing through the family's "color coffin catalog."
The two he had just read aloud were the most expensive coffins in the catalog. Their descriptions piled one string of adjectives onto another, and they were priced at 2.25 million and 2.5 million Lu Coins respectively.
Why was the Light Breeze Coffin more expensive than the Golden Coffin? Perhaps that was the price of "elegance."
Uncle Mason had told him that dividing the catalog prices by five would give him the wholesale cost. Even so, 450,000 and 500,000 Lu Coins were still enormous sums.
If Kallen remembered correctly, 500,000 Lu Coins was enough to buy a three-bedroom apartment with a living room in a decent part of the city;
Ah, in the world of the truly wealthy, a coffin really did cost as much as a home.
"Coffee."
"Thank you, Aunt Winnie."
Aunt Winnie set the coffee on the coffee table and sat on the small sofa opposite him.
"Been taking it easy these past few days?" Aunt Winnie asked.
"Yes." Kallen nodded. Mina and the others had to go to school, but he did not, so he had been handling the cooking these past few days, giving the family a whole new understanding of good food.
The day before yesterday, he had even made a special meal of "beef in spicy broth." The family actually handled spicy food quite well, and Uncle Mason in particular had eaten with tremendous enthusiasm. The next day, however, Uncle Mason had walked with an awkward gait,
His hemorrhoids had flared up.
Aside from cooking, there was not really anything else for him to do.
Although his grandfather had not helped him re-enroll in school, he had gotten him a set of high school textbooks and study guides.
Apart from the history books, which Kallen occasionally browsed, the rest were of very little value to him.
"It should get busy again soon. Two more elderly residents at the Flowery Bay Sanatorium have been feeling unwell, and there are several critically ill patients at the two nearby hospitals we work with;
"At the church, there's also a parishioner lying on their deathbed at home.
"When the time comes, I'll recommend your psychological counseling to their families."
"Thank you, Aunt Winnie."
"You're working for the family company. What are you thanking me for? Drink your coffee. I added sugar."
"All right."
Kallen kept his left hand slightly clenched,
Although the coffee was on his left, he still turned and reached across with his right hand to pick it up and take a sip.
Just then, the telephone rang.
Aunt Winnie got up to answer it:
"Hello... yes... yes... understood."
Clack.
She hung up rather heavily,
But what followed was even louder-Aunt Winnie's shout:
"Mason! Mason!"
Uncle Mason, who had been upstairs drinking black tea and reading a financial newspaper, immediately dropped everything and hurried down the stairs, his feet thumping as he pulled on his coat.
Aunt Winnie said, "The stage at the Crown Ballroom collapsed. There are a lot of casualties."
"Oh, the Crown Ballroom." Mason immediately nodded.
"Where is the Crown Ballroom?" Aunt Mary's voice came from the staircase.
Mason immediately asked in puzzlement, "Yes, where is the Crown Ballroom?"
"I know, Mr. Mason. It's on Hill Street, an old ballroom that's been around for years," Ron answered.
Earlier, he and Paul had been sunning themselves on the bench beside the flower bed. When there was no work, they often spent entire days resting.
But that was how this business worked. Even when you knew there was no work, you still had to keep your staff available. After all, if something suddenly came up, finding servers was easy, but finding people to carry corpses was hard;
They could hardly call the neighbors over to lend a hand, could they?
Aunt Mary still had not paid Mrs. Mark for the flowers she had come to complain about last time. Not only had she refused to pay, she had also gotten into an argument with her.
"Oh, on Hill Street." Uncle Mason turned to Aunt Mary, who stood at the top of the stairs. "Darling, get ready as well. I'll try to bring the clients straight back, if there are any."
"All right, darling." Aunt Mary nodded.
Watching from the sofa beside them, Kallen could not help finding the scene a little funny. Anyone who did not know better might have thought the family ran an ambulance service and had to respond to an emergency.
But that was a "business network," he supposed. The family had connections not only at places like hospitals and sanatoriums, but also "eyes and ears" in plenty of other places. When something like this happened, someone would notify them.
That was how business was done. You had to take the initiative.
"A lot of casualties, right?" Mason looked at Kallen. "Kallen, come along too. We could use another pair of hands."
"All right, Uncle Mason."
Uncle Mason got into the driver's seat. Kallen, Paul, and Ron folded up the Stretcher Cart and loaded it into the back, then grabbed body bags and other supplies before climbing in together.
Before the hearse started, Aunt Winnie tossed a stack of Inmerles Deceased Care Company brochures through the window.
"We're off!"
Mason gave his sister and wife a resolute look, like a general marching off to war.
Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary wore equally solemn expressions, awaiting the general's triumphant return.
The vehicle sped along.
Kallen had already seen Uncle Mason run two traffic lights. Fortunately, there were no traffic cameras yet. Unless they were unlucky enough to have a police officer standing right there, nothing was likely to happen;
Car accidents were another matter, of course.
"Could a collapsed stage really be that serious?" Kallen asked curiously.
Ron was about to answer,
But Uncle Mason spoke first from the driver's seat:
"The Crown Ballroom has a special stage made of reinforced glass, suspended almost five meters in the air. Dancing girls in skirts and miniskirts dance up there, and from below, you can look up to your heart's content.
"Of course, plenty of customers pay extra to experience the thrill of dancing up in the air themselves.
"So if that stage collapsed while people were dancing both above and below it, the consequences could easily be horrific."
Ron agreed. "Yes. Asking a dancing girl for a dance there costs five Lu Coins, but dancing on the glass costs fifty Lu Coins. It's far too expensive."
Uncle Mason said, "The money isn't really the issue. The main thing is that the Crown Ballroom is old and probably poorly maintained. I wouldn't dare go up there. I'd be afraid I'd happen to be there the day something went wrong.
"I've seen more than enough of how horribly disfigured the bodies of accident victims we take in can be."
"Do you go there often, Uncle Mason?" Kallen asked.
"I liked going when I was young, but hardly ever went after marrying your aunt. In recent years, I only went two or three times when I came back to Rojia City to visit family and got together with some old friends.
"Since moving back home for good, I haven't gone once. I don't keep in touch with those old friends anymore, either."
It was not that his friends looked down on the poor and fawned over the rich. It was simply that Uncle Mason had once been a moderately successful financial professional, whereas now he managed the family company. He still had plenty of friends and connections, but they belonged to two entirely different circles.
He could hardly say:
"Hey, buddy;
"I know you're suffering after losing a loved one. How about going dancing with me?"
Before long,
They reached Hill Street.
Uncle Mason kept his foot on the accelerator, then turned into a narrow lane barely wide enough for one vehicle. After weaving through another passage, he quickly made his way from the front street to the middle street.
He drove out of the alley, turned right, and stopped. Clearly, Uncle Mason knew the area extremely well.
The building ahead bore signs for a cinema, a gym, and other businesses, but the largest one, still flashing with lights, belonged to the Crown Ballroom!
Phew, they had arrived.
A large crowd had already gathered along the street outside the entrance. Many were bloodstained, with bleeding head wounds, while others cried and shouted in terror. It was utter chaos.
Kallen and the others had just gotten out when a police car suddenly pulled up beside them. In the passenger seat sat a police chief wearing a khaki trench coat, a pipe between his lips. He stared in astonishment at the Immerlis Family's hearse before him,
And exclaimed:
"Damn it, Mason! How did you get here before the police and the ambulances?!"
Clearly, the police chief knew Uncle Mason.
That was hardly surprising,
Among a funeral society's steady sources of clients, after sanatoriums, hospitals, and churches, the next was the police station.
Picking up bodies from the police morgue was a routine task.
Uncle Mason explained, "Chief Duke, it's really just a coincidence. We happened to be on the front street."
"Heh." Chief Duke clearly did not believe him.
However, traffic was congested, and Rojia City's stadium was hosting a national-team football friendly that day. A large number of officers had been reassigned to provide security there, so reinforcements would have trouble arriving anytime soon.
"Come with me and help maintain order."
"Yes, sir!"
Uncle Mason snapped to attention. Ron and Paul immediately did the same beside him. Kallen was half a beat behind, but he straightened his chest as well.
The sight was rather comical, and Chief Duke could not help smiling. But he immediately remembered that this was no place for levity, then turned to give instructions to the officer driving:
"Mick, switch on the siren and clear the traffic up ahead. Help the ambulances get in."
"Yes, Chief."
Ron and Paul pushed through the crowd ahead. Chief Duke first scanned the injured people along the roadside. They had presumably run out of the ballroom after the stage collapsed. Although many were hurt, anyone who could get out under their own power probably was not in too much trouble. They were also helping one another with basic bandaging and stopping the bleeding.
"Is anyone still inside?" Chief Duke asked.
"Is anyone still inside?" Uncle Mason pulled over someone wearing a ballroom staff uniform.
"Yes... yes, there are."
"Come on. Let's go in."
Chief Duke entered first. As they went up the stairs, they saw several more seriously injured people being helped or carried out. Some had shards of glass embedded in their legs, others in their abdomens, leaving them unable to walk unaided.
Uncle Mason immediately passed over the person with glass in their leg and instead took the hand of a young man dressed in hip-hop clothes, with glass embedded in his abdomen:
"Are you all right? Can you hold on?"
Thinking a doctor had arrived, the young man immediately nodded. "I don't think it's too bad. I can hang on."
Uncle Mason's enthusiasm instantly evaporated, and he let go of the young man's hand.
"Doctor?" the young man kept calling after Uncle Mason.
"Sorry, I need to find the more seriously injured people inside. They need me more right now!"
The young man nodded. "I understand. I get it."
Chief Duke led the Immerlis Family farther inside;
On the way, Chief Duke teased Mason. "So impatient for someone to die?"
Uncle Mason answered, "It's been a slow season."
"Heh. A slow season."
"When business is slow for you, you can go arrest marijuana dealers and raid unlicensed brothels. We can't exactly go around killing people, can we?"
"I'm warning you. If we find anyone critically injured in there, they go to the hospital first. If the ambulances haven't arrived, use your vehicle. Don't... bring someone straight to your house before they're even properly dead."
"As if I would."
As they spoke, they finally entered the main ballroom. There were not many people left inside; most had already gotten out, though more than a dozen still remained.
The floor was covered in broken glass, both large pieces and small.
Only a few steps inside, they spotted someone slumped against a booth seat.
When they approached, they saw that half the person's head had been sliced away;
Behind the booth lay a large sheet of glass measuring roughly three square meters.
A sheet of glass that size, crashing straight into someone, could slice off half their head as easily as cutting a watermelon.
The scene behind the booth was even more gruesome. Every color was there, as though someone had opened a sauce shop.
Uncle Mason hurried forward, then turned to Chief Duke and asked anxiously:
"Chief, come take a look. Is this one completely dead?"
Chief Duke stepped forward and aimed a kick at Mason,
But remembering the broken glass all over the floor, he pulled the kick back halfway and never actually struck him.
That alone showed how close Uncle Mason and Chief Duke really were.
Three years earlier, when Chief Duke's mother died, the Immerlis Family had handled her funeral. In the end, the family had not charged a single Lu Coin.
"Kallen" had not known about this. Back then, he had still been a withdrawn boy who knew practically nothing about the family business and never asked about it.
"Ron, body bag," Uncle Mason instructed.
"Right."
Ron took out a body bag and began putting the unfortunate gentleman inside, muttering as he worked:
"Booking this booth isn't cheap, either. You really were unlucky."
The glass stage had been just ahead and above this spot, giving anyone seated here the best angle for looking up and enjoying the view.
Ron worked quickly, without hesitating over the grisly sight or anything else. That was professionalism, and it was why Ron and Paul could spend entire days resting on full pay while still earning much more than ordinary workers.
Up ahead, several people were gathered around a man;
Several pieces of glass were embedded in his body, and blood kept spilling from his mouth. He could no longer speak clearly; all he could do was blink.
His injuries were so severe that those around him-whether friends or simply helpful ballroom patrons-did not dare move him on their own, afraid that one careless movement might kill him.
Uncle Mason immediately stepped forward, took his hand, and said:
"Hold on, hold on. Please, you have to hold on!"
Then he immediately shouted to Paul behind him:
"Stretcher! Stretcher! Hurry!"
Paul, who had been carrying the Stretcher Cart, immediately set it down, but did not lower its four wheels.
Uncle Mason instructed the people around them:
"Carefully. Everyone help lift a little. Keep him steady. We'll get him onto the stretcher and carry him outside first. The ambulance will be here soon. He still has a chance, he still has a chance!"
Everyone immediately began helping as Mason instructed.
Kallen knew Uncle Mason was being so enthusiastic because, barring a miracle, this man probably could not be saved.
Still, Mason had made the right choice. This really was the best thing for the injured man and would get him medical treatment sooner.
And once the injured man was taken to the hospital and "gone," Uncle Mason, already a familiar face, could naturally secure the funeral job from the grateful family members.
Chief Duke watched from nearby without interrupting Mason. He knew that while Mason wanted the business, he was not the sort to act recklessly.
Kallen had wanted to help, but the stretcher was only so big, and there was nowhere for him to lend a hand.
Just then, Kallen heard Chief Duke let out a puzzled "Huh?"
He looked toward the sound and found that Chief Duke had moved to the center of the original stage.
The Crown Ballroom had a large wooden stage in the middle, raised three steps off the floor, with the glass stage above it.
When the glass stage came crashing down, it had punched several holes through the center of the stage below.
Now Chief Duke was crouching beside one of those holes, reaching out to pull aside a few broken boards.
Kallen walked over, then froze.
Inside the hole lay a male corpse.
The corpse was stark naked, his arms spread symmetrically to either side at forty-five-degree angles, palms facing up. Two iron nails pinned his middle fingers in place, leaving him giving the finger in both directions;
In addition,
there was a white flower on the corpse's abdomen, right at his navel. It appeared to be... plastic.
There were suture marks above and below his navel. In all likelihood, this was not just a flower, but... a potted flower.
The pot was inside the corpse's belly;
On top of that, heavy makeup had been applied to the corpse's face.
Lipstick extended exaggeratedly down from both corners of his mouth, creating the illusion of a "smile."
A book rested on the corpse's chest, its cover bearing the title Soul Song. It was the Bible of the Berry Church.
Kallen remembered Aunt Mary complaining that Mr. Mossan's children had deliberately claimed he was a follower of the Berry Church to save money;
The Berry Church's doctrine required the body to be cremated after death and returned to nature. The more the body was adorned, or the grander the funeral, the greater the desecration of nature-and thus of its doctrine.
Yet the male corpse beneath the stage had been altered and arranged in far, far too many ways.
Also, judging by the bluish-black color of his skin, he had probably been dead for quite some time, though there were no obvious signs of decay on his body.
Surely he could not have been killed by the falling glass stage, only for the people around him to strip him and arrange him like this afterward?
Chief Duke's gaze grew grave.
What had happened in the ballroom earlier was an accident, and an accident did not really have much to do with him as a police officer. He only needed to keep the rescue efforts orderly. But this corpse was another matter.
Chief Duke bit down on his cigarette holder,
muttering to himself,
"If it weren't for this accident, we'd never have discovered this murder."
"I think... that's not how it happened."
"Oh?"
Chief Duke turned to look at the handsome young man standing beside him.
"Then how do you think it happened?"
Kallen pointed at the male corpse inside the hole,
and said,
"The killer deliberately caused this accident to put his 'work of art' on display."
Before you continue