"Aren't we taking the hearse?"
Bart pointed at the hearse parked in the distance. He still remembered how they had taken a hearse to the Church Administration Building for the Final Selection. A reporter had not only interviewed Kallen but also taken a photograph that appeared in Order Weekly, causing quite a stir.
Alfred shook his head. "We were young before, and needed to be flamboyant. Now, the young master needs to be steady."
"Young?"
How long had it been? They weren't young anymore?
Alfred glanced at Bart and said, "Sometimes, being young or steady really doesn't have much to do with age."
"Oh, really?"
"Actually, we could take a dozen or so coffins along to build some momentum for the major operation coming up.
"No, that wouldn't work either. It would be a little too aggressive. The people below might like it, but those above would find it too rash and undignified.
"Besides, the young master's current position isn't suitable for that sort of political show. It would suit the district chief or the minister, though."
A little puzzled, Bart said, "Mr. Alfred, that sounds a little too pragmatic. Um, I don't mean anything by that. I agree with what you said, but it's somewhat different from my usual impression of you."
Alfred asked calmly, "Do you think I normally like saying rather strange things, like some ungrounded preacher spouting mystical nonsense?"
"I..."
Alfred shrugged. "Merely talking about dreams is meaningless. You have to understand one thing: dreams can only truly be realized through practical means."
"Yes. Thank you for the lesson."
"I'll ride with the young master. Take the car ahead and maintain the proper distance according to security procedures."
"Understood."
Alfred got into the passenger seat of the secondhand black Pons. Vic took the wheel, while Kallen