When the Evil God Came Knocking

"Knock... knock... knock..."

Listen,

how crisp, how sweet that knocking sounded.

The door opened,

and Dis stood before Kallen in a black robe.

Its cut was much like the priest's clothes Dis usually wore, but a priest gave an impression of kindness and gentleness. Right now, Dis radiated a genuine gloom.

It was as though everything had returned to that day at the front door, when Dis had asked him:

What place lay ahead?

Fortunately, tonight's questions would not be directed at him.

Still, looking at Dis's outfit, Kallen suddenly felt that his own clothes did not quite measure up to his grandfather, or to the mood of the evening.

His aunts bought all his clothes. The fabric and prices were a notch above Lunt's and the others', and they were respectable and suited him well, but mixing and matching freely was rather difficult.

"Are you ready?" Dis asked.

"Yes, Grandpa." Kallen handed over the list.

Dis did not look at it. He headed straight for the stairs. "You make the arrangements. Which suspect's home do we visit first?"

Kallen followed behind him.

Aunt Winnie had, in fact, ranked them according to her perception of their status.

First came Ford, the Mayoral Election candidate. In his aunt's eyes, he was very likely to become the next mayor, so naturally he took the top spot.

Second was Molf. The Molf Consortium had extensive holdings, from cigarette factories to hospitals-a complete cradle-to-grave service.

Third was the veteran councilman, Haggett.

After them came a string of names Kallen did not know very well. This was because he and his aunt viewed things from different angles.

Kallen cared more about which factions could have orchestrated the upheaval in this mayoral election—in other words, the forces behind the "suicide" imposed on the Siso Family.

So Kallen had added two names himself: Mr. Humil, editor-in-chief of the Rojia Daily, and Mr. Oka, who had come over last that day to settle the bill.

Since Mr. Oka had booked their services, he certainly could not escape involvement. As for the editor-in-chief, he had planted himself firmly on one side and had been dropping hints and laying the groundwork for a long time. If he knew absolutely nothing, Kallen might as well find a truckload of Herring Can and stink himself to death.

Those five made up Kallen's final shortlist.

As for the other celebrities, including the actress who had rubbed onion on her eyes to perform her crying scene that day, Kallen left them out. They did not qualify.

There was, however, another celebrity-if she could be called one-the environmentalist girl, Delis.

Logically, she should have been excluded too. The thing was, Kallen actually found the onion-rubbing actress rather amusing. She was earning her appearance fee, which he could understand.

But Delis had disgusted Kallen for a long time. She was not stupid; she was genuinely malicious.

So Kallen added her name too, outside the list of five, putting her on the bench.

The list was five plus one.

This was the conclusion Kallen had reached while observing the memorial service on the first floor that day. Although many of the people coming and going ignored him or simply treated him as a young attendant,

they did not know

that the "Evil God's" eyes had been watching them all along.

And when Dis asked him which home they should visit first,

Kallen passed over Mr. Ford, the Mayoral Election candidate, who was the most suspicious and would probably give them answers as soon as they asked.

He ignored the editor-in-chief, who had firmly taken sides and surely collected his "writing fee."

He also ignored Haggett, the veteran councilman who had essentially led the charge that day.

He even ignored Mr. Oka, whose identity was mysterious but who was undoubtedly involved.

Instead, he answered:

"Grandpa, I suggest we visit Mr. Molf's home first and ask a few questions."

Wouldn't it be a shame to finish such a fun "game" in one go?

Besides,

taking on a consortium would be so much fun.

And anyway, who told them to put a pack of Molf Gold-Frame Cigarettes in my pocket?

"Molf?"

Dis clearly knew the name. Or rather, anyone who had lived in Rojia City long enough would be familiar with that surname.

"All right."

Without hesitation or deliberation, much less any weighing of pros and cons, Dis simply nodded and went downstairs.

Kallen followed behind him.

"Meow~"

Puer's voice rang out, and she leaped onto Kallen's shoulder.

Kallen turned to look at Puer. She immediately lay down and closed her eyes.

Since Dis showed no reaction, Kallen said nothing either.

To some extent, apart from his role of "reading out the names," he might be less useful than the family cat.

Leaving the living room and entering the yard, Kallen took the spare key to the family's new hearse from his pocket. Then he noticed a limited-edition Santeland parked at the gate.

Alfred, who had changed out of his work clothes into a blue suit and tie and looked impeccably polished,

bowed to the grandfather and grandson from outside the gate.

"Your loyal Alfred answers your summons."

Although you did not summon me,

a loyal and excellent servant could still prepare in advance.

As for that foolish Miss Molly, she had returned to No. 128 to rest. Out of concern for the health of her new body, Alfred had not gone to wake her.

After all, the great being grew tired too. Focusing his gaze on one person was easier than dividing it between two.

Dis looked at Kallen and asked:

"Did you call him here?"

"No."

"Young master, I have prepared your outfit for tonight's banquet."

Alfred opened the car door and took out three sets of clothes.

One was a black evening suit; another was a fitted burgundy suit.

The last was a black hoodie from a brand endorsed by the Ruilan Royal Family.

"Young master, which do you prefer?"

Kallen hesitated, then pointed at the third outfit, the black hoodie. He thought it would be more comfortable, while the first two were a little too flashy.

Especially the burgundy suit. Wearing it, he felt he might practically drip flamboyance.

"I choose..."

"The red one," Dis said. "It looks sharper."

"I choose the red one. Grandpa and I really do think alike. Heh."

Alfred came over with the red suit and first gave Dis a half bow.

"Sir, I will take the young master to change. It won't take long."

Dis nodded.

Then Alfred gestured for Kallen to proceed. "Young master, this outfit also has accessories. You'll need assistance to put everything on properly."

With his grandfather's approval already given, what more could Kallen say? He could only follow Alfred back into the living room.

After changing, Kallen came out of the living room and stood before Dis.

The outfit was a little tight, making him unconsciously stand straighter.

In his previous life, Kallen had rarely worn formal clothes. When dealing with patients, overly formal attire could create a sense of distance, which was not helpful for psychotherapy.

"Not bad."

That was Dis's assessment.

Kallen smiled. "You have good taste, Grandpa."

Then Dis pointed at the ground. Kallen lowered his head and saw a circle with a star drawn inside it.

"Step inside."

"Yes, Grandpa."

Without hesitation, Kallen stepped into the circle.

"In the name of Order, release all shackles and restraints. Grant freedom to the true heart, and serenity to the soul."

The circle beneath his feet emitted a faint red glow. Then that dim light spread over his clothes, and Kallen saw lights like red fireflies on his hands as well.

Along with it, all sorts of emotions began welling up from the depths of his heart, becoming more tangible. His senses grew extraordinarily sensitive.

It felt like eating poisonous mountain mushrooms in his previous life. He felt floaty, almost high. Even the most introverted person would be unable to resist singing at the top of their lungs in public.

Almost instinctively, Kallen began suppressing those emotions, trying to separate his consciousness from his body's current state and empty his mind of self.

Put grandly, it was like a master meditating. Put plainly, it was like a bad student zoning out in class. The goal was the same: a state of detachment from the world.

The heat in his head began to subside.

To Kallen's relief, the formation's effect was not continuous. It was more like lighting a spark and letting him burn from there, rather than constantly pouring gasoline over him.

As long as he controlled that initial spark, he could negate the formation's effect.

"Grandpa, this is..."

Alfred spoke. "Young master, your grandfather did this so you could enjoy yourself tonight. What a touching, wonderful family bond."

Dis said, "I only wanted to see your true heart show itself. Don't feel burdened. It's like buying you cotton candy on the way to an amusement park when you were little."

"Yes, Grandpa. I feel very happy now."

Did he want to see my "true face"?

Or did he hope I would reveal my nature as an Evil God?

Kallen was puzzled, but he did not think it was the latter, because Dis had once said that even if he was an Evil God, he was still family.

Dis had neither reason nor need to "test" him again. If he wanted to kill him, he would have done it long ago, wouldn't he?

So was it really because I'd been gloomy these past two days, and he was afraid I would withdraw into myself again? Had he given me "formation morphine" to get me high and release my stress?

Kallen felt that this seemingly ridiculous explanation might truly be Dis's intention. Perhaps this was how Dis showed affection.

Because the previous "Kallen" had withdrawn into himself, did he want this grandson to be more cheerful?

And because of the professional habits from his previous life, Kallen had thwarted his grandfather's good intentions.

Still,

if he wanted Kallen to be more cheerful,

that was not difficult.

Who couldn't let loose? He did not even need to pretend. He just had to let go.

While frying spring rolls and eggplant fritters that day, watching the bubbling oil, he had already played it all out in his head many times.

"Which vehicle?" Dis asked.

They could choose between the limited-edition Santeland Alfred had brought and the family hearse.

Kallen waved the spare key in his hand

and said:

"Let's take the hearse. I'm afraid the Santeland won't have enough room."

The Molf Estate stood in the heart of downtown Rojia City. Since the Molf Family had made its fortune in Rojia City, this place counted as their "ancestral home."

Kallen drove the hearse to the edge of the neighborhood and stopped.

The hearse was too large and too conspicuous, so it would be better to walk the rest of the way.

The three of them got out.

Puer was still lying on Kallen's shoulder, seemingly asleep.

"What a huge house."

Kallen sighed as he looked at the wall before him.

With such a large enclosure and such a spacious yard, if this were his home, his uncle could take four or five jobs a day without ever worrying about space.

Perhaps influenced by the habits of his profession in this life, Kallen's first reaction on seeing the enormous yard was that it would be a shame not to hold memorial services in such a spacious place.

Just then, a black Caiman drove toward them. Alfred stepped forward and raised a hand, stopping it.

There was only a young driver inside, about Kallen's age. He had apparently been drinking, and his face still showed lingering traces of a high. He might have taken something he should not have touched.

The young man pointed at Alfred

and said with a laugh:

"Get in front of my car again, and I'll send you flying."

Alfred smiled and nodded.

"All right. Next time."

Then,

Alfred's eyes began glowing red. His Succubus Eyes took effect, and the young man's eyes reddened too, before turning vacant.

Alfred opened the car door and gestured for them to enter.

"Sir, young master, please get in. We're in luck. This is Mr. Molf's youngest son, a playboy I happen to know. His car will let us enter the Manor more comfortably."

"I'm not concerned about the bodyguards and footmen here. It's simply such a large place that I fear the walk would tire your feet."

Dis looked at Alfred.

As though remembering something, Alfred immediately bowed to Dis and held out both hands.

Dis took out a black envelope and placed it in Alfred's hands.

This was the "permit" an Inquisitor issued when he needed an otherworldly demon in his keeping to do something. It meant that the domesticated otherworldly demon was acting "legally," making the procedure just.

If the affair escalated later and members of other churches joined the investigation, following the trail back to Alfred, this "permit" would allow him to shift everything onto the Order God Church.

However, first, Alfred had only just gone from being wild to domesticated and was still unfamiliar with the procedure.

Second, the young master of the Molf Family driving home had been unexpected, and stopping the car had been a split-second decision, so he had forgotten to follow the procedure.

Fortunately,

the procedural flaw could still be remedied.

After all, Dis was Rojia City's Inquisitor and held the authority to interpret Order here and now. He could decide, entirely at his own discretion, when Alfred had used Succubus Eyes on an ordinary person.

Kallen and his grandfather sat in the back seat, while Alfred took the front passenger seat. Young Master Molf began driving.

"Young master, you're back. Um, are these your friends?"

"Get lost."

"Yes, yes, young master."

The bodyguards at the entrance withdrew and opened the gates.

The car drove straight inside and stopped in front of a building.

"Young master, you're back."

"Where's my father?"

"The master is in his study on the second floor."

"All right, you can get lost."

"Young master, would you like me to entertain your friends?"

"Get lost! I'll entertain my own friends!"

"Yes, yes, of course."

After dismissing everyone else, Young Master Molf led Kallen and the others upstairs.

They saw hardly any servants inside. The place seemed very quiet.

When they reached the study door, Alfred reached out and patted Young Master Molf on the shoulder. Young Master Molf sank down against the wall and fell into a deep sleep.

Then,

Alfred opened the study door.

The study was spacious-absurdly so. Mr. Molf, whom they had met earlier that day, was sitting behind his desk in pajamas, reading the documents in his hand.

When he saw strangers enter, Mr. Molf did not cry out in alarm. Instead, he removed his glasses, stood, and spread his arms.

"Oh, friends, what brings you here?"

Dis walked up to him,

and produced a sheet of paper bearing the seal of an Inquisitor of the Order God Church.

"Someone has accused you of violating Order by employing an Otherworldly Demon to work for you. Under the Order God Church's 'Order Regulations,' you will now be questioned."

Standing to one side, Kallen thought it must feel wonderful to be able to stamp your own "search warrant" the way Dis did.

"The Order God Church?"

A woman's voice came from beneath the desk. Then a woman in a skimpy dancing dress rose beside Mr. Molf. Her tongue was long, extending some twenty centimeters out of her mouth. It took a while after she stood up for her to retract it fully, like a snake drawing in its tongue.

The woman came around the desk and bowed to Dis.

"Honored Inquisitor, Renee, a follower of the Mills Church, greets you."

Alfred leaned close to Kallen's ear and explained,

"A religion that originated on an island long ago. Its earliest followers were prostitutes on that island. They dreamed up a goddess who was the sea god's lover and would protect poor women like them.

"It's a minor religion, with few followers and little influence. It has almost no organization in Ruilan.

"All I can say is that Mr. Molf certainly knows how to enjoy himself."

"Is she human?" Kallen asked.

"She is," Alfred replied. "Certain specific faiths can cause changes in the human body."

"Like Miss Molly?"

"Strictly speaking, Miss Molly no longer counts as human."

Smiling, Renee pointed at Mr. Molf,

and said,

"Lord Inquisitor, Mr. Molf is my lover and the master I serve.

"I know he would never have dealings with those evil Otherworldly Demons. Please investigate the accusation thoroughly and don't falsely accuse a kind, charitable businessman of good character."

Dis turned his gaze to Mr. Molf;

but before Dis could speak,

Mr. Molf spoke first.

"You look very familiar. You're the... Priest from earlier today?

"The Order God Church?

"I know the Order God Church. It's a great church.

"Father... no, Lord Inquisitor;

"I swear to you, I have never violated the Order God Church's rules."

Kallen asked, "How did the four members of the Siso Family die?"

Mr. Molf looked puzzled. "Who is the Siso Family?"

But soon,

he seemed to realize.

"Oh, you mean the family of four at today's memorial service? So that was the Siso Family."

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Kallen's mouth.

He believed Mr. Molf was not pretending. He genuinely did not know who the Siso Family was, even though he had attended their funeral just that afternoon.

To him, whether it was the Siso Family, the Rott Family, or some other family made no difference.

He had merely attended a funeral that could ignite a wave of opposition against the old mayor. Even if the coffins had held pigs, he would have gone and mourned with heartfelt emotion.

Kallen began walking toward Molf,

and Mr. Molf quickly caught on. He was indeed a clever businessman.

"Lord Inquisitor, have you come to investigate the deaths of the Siso Family? I went there to mourn because I knew how tragically they had died. I truly sympathize with that family."

"Sympathize?"

Kallen kept walking toward Molf.

"Yes, I sympathize with them deeply. Such a poor, innocent family. Their deaths were highly suspicious. I once overheard Editor-in-Chief Humil conspiring with Mr. Oka, saying they would choose a family to sacrifice for the demonstrations.

"Unfortunately, I'm only a businessman, and a coward at that. I didn't dare interfere, nor did I dare report or oppose them.

"So all I could do was attend that poor family's funeral earlier today, to give my conscience a little peace;

"may that poor family rest in peace in heaven.

"Furthermore, I swear I had absolutely nothing to do with their deaths. As for Otherworldly Demons, I've never even seen one. The only truly unusual person around me is Renee, whom I met at the Vien Ball-the woman I love. She isn't an Otherworldly Demon. She's merely a follower of the Mills Church."

As he spoke, Mr. Molf gazed lovingly at Renee.

"I can vouch for that," Renee said.

Kallen continued toward Molf;

as he passed Renee, she reached out to stop him. At the same time, she addressed Dis, who stood behind Kallen.

"Lord Inquisitor, I know the Order God Church has the authority to judge matters of Order involving Otherworldly Demons in society. But my lover has not violated that Order, so the Order God Church has no right to subject him to any excessive treatment.

"For a murder case, you can call the police. Leave secular matters to secular authorities.

"Furthermore, I respect the Order God Church's authority, but I truly never expected a murder case with no obvious signs of an Otherworldly Demon's involvement to bring an Inquisitor breaking into a local philanthropist's home late at night.

"As far as I know, Inquisitors of the Order God Church in other regions aren't nearly as conscientious or attentive as you.

"I greatly admire your dedication. So, together with my sponsor, I will send a letter of commendation to the Order God Church's Ruilan District, praising your conscientiousness."

A sponsor was generally the person who had brought someone into the church. Under normal circumstances, their position within the church would be one level higher.

Kallen turned and glanced at Dis, who stood behind him, expressionless.

Grandpa,

did you hear that?

She's threatening you. She says she'll use church channels to lodge a complaint against you.

Dis showed no reaction whatsoever.

Kallen turned his gaze back to Mr. Molf behind the desk;

you really are clever.

Even when faced with a church world you know little about, you still display the decisiveness and precise judgment of an excellent businessman.

Wealth can raise a man up and let him see farther. But once he's too high, he starts to think he's no longer human.

Who is the Siso Family?

God, that sincere question really is unpleasant to hear.

Then,

Kallen continued walking toward Mr. Molf.

Renee's hand still barred Kallen's way, just as before. Kallen's chest touched her hand.

Then,

"Ah!"

Thud...

Kallen's upper body pitched backward, his legs sliding forward,

and he fell to the floor with a cry of pain.

The sight left even Renee stunned. She had used no force at all, because the handsome young man before her was merely an ordinary person. The ones who truly frightened her were the old man in black robes and the young man whose eyes held an uncanny allure.

Dis looked at Renee,

and said in a low voice,

"Using the Power of Faith of the church to harm an ordinary person violates article five, chapter two of the Order Church's 'Order Regulations.'"

"I... aaah!!!"

Before Renee could react, she barely had time to scream. One of her arms had already been severed from her body and fallen to the floor. She stared at it all in utter disbelief.

"No, no, no!"

This sudden turn of events completely shattered Mr. Molf's composure as a businessman. Instinctively, he reached for the revolver in his desk drawer.

But Dis's gaze was faster.

"Employing an Otherworldly Demon to harm an ordinary person violates article one, chapter three of the Order Church's 'Order Regulations.'"

Dis extended his hand,

and the next instant,

Mr. Molf seemed to be seized by an enormous invisible hand. He was lifted up, hurled over the desk, and slammed onto the study floor.

"You can't do this! You can't do this! My name is Molf! My Families have, in Rojia City..."

"Where are we now? Whose home is this?"

By then, Kallen had already stood up and was brushing nonexistent dust off his suit. The study floor really was exceptionally clean.

Then,

Kallen took the pack of Molf Gold-Frame Cigarettes from his pocket,

pulled out a cigarette,

held it between his lips,

lowered his head,

and looked at Mr. Molf, who lay on the floor with terror written across his face,

before asking in puzzlement,

"Who is the Molf family?"