Chapter 5: Does He Want to Kill Me?_2
"Huh..."
With a burning cigarette in his hand,
Karen leaned back on the bench.
At that moment,
A shadow suddenly appeared in front of him. Karen was startled, realizing that the cigarette between his fingers had been taken away.
"Who... Grandpa?"
In front of Karen stood Dis.
Dis was still wearing the same clothes he had worn when he went out, but Karen noticed that there were obvious stains on his trouser leg, and the hand that had taken his cigarette seemed to have black marks on it.
Was it mud?
Dis threw the cigarette on the ground and asked,
"When did you learn this?"
"I..." Karen hesitated for a moment. He had just had the impulse to tell the "truth" to "Grandpa" because he instinctively sensed that there was something unusual after connecting the events of today's "dream" and Mr. Hoven's "interrogation".
It should be noted that Grandpa Dis and Mr. Hoven were old friends.
It was not that Karen was worried about what Mr. Hoven would tell Grandpa after he woke up, but rather that his Grandpa, who was a retired philosophy professor who loved "divination" or "mysticism" and who ran a funeral parlor as well as being a part-time priest, seemed to be... the most mysterious one.
Wouldn't Grandpa have noticed anything that Mr. Hoven knew?
Therefore, would confession be tolerated?
But looking at Grandpa's face,
Karen couldn't help telling him "the truth" but finally held back.
He said,
"Uncle Mason taught me."
Upon hearing this, Dis frowned slightly.
"Mr. Hoven is inside. The doctor said he is out of danger now." Karen reported.
Dis nodded and asked, "Mary told me about him, were you scared?"
"No... uh... yeah, I was scared."
Karen's answer was a bit incoherent, but he didn't think it was his fault.
"I'll go see him. You wait here."
"Alright, Grandpa."
Dis went in.
About fifteen minutes later, Dis and Paul came back together. Karen got up and went with them to the parking lot.
"When did you learn to drive?" Dis asked Paul.
"Not long ago, I just picked it up after watching a lot." Paul answered somewhat shyly.
"Did you get a license?"
"Yes, I did." Paul answered immediately.
"From next month, your salary will be increased by 1,000 rubles per month."
"Thank you, Mr. Dis!"
Paul and Ron had very contrasting personalities. Ron liked to drink and play cards. As soon as he finished his work in the basement today, he left work immediately. He should be hanging out in a small tavern by now, while Paul stayed behind to clean the car.
"Let's go back." Dis glanced at Karen and repeated, "Go home."
Paul was still driving, with Karen and Dis sitting in the back. Since there were no seats, the two sat face-to-face on the cushions.
"Do we need to inform Mr. Hoven's family, Grandpa?"
"No, his children have already cut off relations with him and didn't live in Roja City. In a few days, remember to come and check on his condition."
"Alright, Grandpa."
After the brief exchange,
Karen saw Dis stretch out his hand and roll up his sleeve.
To Karen's astonishment, one-third of his Grandpa's left hand was "charred", as if it had been rolled over charcoal.
"Pliers." Dis said.
"Huh?" Karen was startled but quickly understood. He went ahead and opened the black box beside his Grandpa, which contained a set of small surgical instruments and some strange things that did not belong to any normal use.
Such as several bottles of strangely colored liquid, shiny beads, oddly shaped iron plates, and whips made of unknown material... The most eye-catching was a hollow sword hilt with delicate carvings on each side, a twisted skull on the left, and a kind-faced Saint on the right.
Although the sword hilt had no blade, Karen still carefully avoided it when taking pliers out, as if the invisible sword edge would cut his fingers off.
Karen handed the pliers to his Grandpa.
Grandpa took the pliers with his right hand, gripped the edge of his charred skin, and slowly tore it off.
Although the car was moving, Karen could still clearly hear the crisp sound of paper being torn.
The golden retriever, who had come back with them, stared in fear with its big eyes and huddled in a corner, shivering.
Without paying any attention to his surroundings, Grandpa used the pliers to tear off two pieces of charred skin and said,
"Tweezers."
"Oh, okay." Karen handed over the tweezers.
But Grandpa didn't take them, instead his hand came forward and he handed the pliers to Karen as well.
In Karen's memory, he had never seen a scene like this.
However, after pursing his lips together, Karen took the pliers with his right hand and the tweezers with his left hand. He used the tweezers to tear a gap in the charred skin and then pulled it down with the pliers.
Below the charred skin was bright red tender flesh, with traces of blood seeping through.
From beginning to end, Dis never cried out in pain.
His face didn't even twitch.
When all the burnt skin was cleaned, Dis's left arm looked like it had just been boiled in hot water.
"All done." Karen said.
"Hum."
Dis reached for a bottle of purple liquid, flicked the cap off with his fingertip, and then poured the entire contents over his left arm.
"Hiss..."
This cold gasp came from Karen.
Because he saw white smoke rising from Dis's left arm, accompanied by the sound of sizzling oil in a pan.
After a while,
Dis breathed a long sigh of relief and dropped his sleeve.
Karen asked with concern, "Grandpa, don't you need to bandage it?"
Dis shook his head.
Karen said nothing more and kept sitting still.
The car stopped, and they were home.
Karen got out of the car with Mr. Hoven's golden retriever, while Paul parked the car by the side of the courtyard entrance.
"Mr. Dis, Young Master Karen, I'll head back, and I'll be arriving early tomorrow to set up the mourning grounds."
"Alright." Dis nodded.
Paul, who had just gotten a raise, happily ran toward his own home.
Karen stayed at the entrance, hesitating to go in, as Dis didn't go in either.
The two men and one dog
stood at the entrance.
On the third-floor windowsill of the villa, Poll stood up and stared straight at them.
Inexplicably,
it was as if the background music of a stage play suddenly changed its style.
It was so abrupt,
yet so clear.
Karen felt his lips trembling and his breathing becoming more hurried.
The golden retriever held by Karen looked up at him puzzledly since it noticed its leash was shaking... because the person holding it was trembling.
People have a sixth sense.
It can be the wind telling you, the sunlight telling you, or even the flowers and plants within the fence telling you.
Karen didn't know if the sixth sense would become stronger after someone "died" once and came back to life again. He didn't have the mood to think about these things now.
He felt like an egg just taken out of a chicken nest, being constantly weighed in the hands of a naughty child and thrown around.
Run?
Karen tried his best to twist his neck to the side where the road was, allowing him to run as far as he could...
Then, Karen began to twist his neck in another direction, but halfway through, he unconsciously lowered his head.
As he lowered his head,
he saw his pant legs.
He also saw his Grandpa's left arm.
And he saw the sword hilt, which had just been put back in the black box, held tightly in his Grandpa's left hand.
For a moment,
He felt tears brewing in his eyes, the sourness in his nose, and the beginnings of a runny nose, as well as slight spasms in the facial muscles.
In front of him,
it seemed no longer the Immeras family villa at Mink Street No. 13,
But a ground layer upon layer downward,
He...
He was standing in the center of the high platform, with prepared gallows next to him.
"Karen."
Dis's voice was like thunder ringing in his ears.
"Gra... Grandpa..."
Karen's teeth were chattering.
However, his heart was extremely calm, a feeling of spiritual and physical detachment.
"Karen, where are we?"
Karen opened his mouth.
Out of the corner of his eye,
he noticed his Grandpa's left arm, already raised and moved behind him.
At this critical moment,
Karen suddenly straightened his back,
With a hoarse and low voice... almost roaring
"Home!"