Mr. Hoven lay on the ground, with Karen standing in front of him.
At this moment, as long as Karen was willing, he could end Mr. Hoven's life.
Because Mr. Hoven's previous expressions and words had brought him tremendous pressure.
Being reborn in this world, he lacked a sense of security. So far, he was living with "this identity". Once he lost this identity, his life would slide into the unknown.
Moreover, not only were there conventional meanings of "life", but there were other factors beyond Karen's cognition.
If it was just "running away from home", Karen wouldn't feel so much pressure. What scared him was that it wasn't as simple as being "cast out of the house" and it couldn't be that simple!
Karen could feel the insecurity of a medieval witch.
Stepping forward,
bending over,
Karen reached out his hand.
Just one more pinch on the neck,
Or holding Mr. Hoven's head, pretending to wake him up, while knocking it on the tiles, covering up the final injury.
Then,
this crisis vortex could dissipate before engulfing him.
Therefore,
do it or not?
Having such thoughts was not surprising. Even the most ordinary and gentle people had experienced sudden emotional outbursts and the birth of evil thoughts.
But in the end,
Karen was still standing there and didn't make a move.
Mina came down from the second floor and started calling. Aunt Mary came up from the basement. Paul came running to pick up Mr. Hoven.
Karen just stood there, only coming back to his senses at Aunt Mary's shout. He helped Mr. Hoven and got on the hearse of the Immeras family.
Paul started the car, and Karen stayed in the carriage with Mr. Hoven.
This "Nutshell" brand-modified car was originally an extended version of an ordinary car. The seats in the co-pilot's position had long been removed, leaving more space for a coffin.
Mr. Hoven lay there, unmoving.
He was lucky, as ambulances were not widespread in this era, and he immediately had a car to take him to the nearest hospital.
What was more fortunate... was that even if he didn't survive, he still had a car to ride back in. And it was a matching one.
Moreover, considering his relationship with Grandpa, his funeral could even have a cheap discount. The only one suffering was Aunt Mary.
"Hehe..."
Karen chuckled and gently rubbed his face with his hand.
At this time, the golden retriever that followed its owner into the car approached Mr. Hoven and licked his fingers.
After rubbing against its owner for a while, it slowly walked over to Karen.
Karen reached out, and the dog didn't avoid it, allowing Karen to stroke its head.
Appearing to enjoy the touch, it laid down on Karen's lap. And after Karen stopped stroking it, it still nudged Karen's hand with its nose, signaling him to continue.
"Alas..."
Karen looked at Mr. Hoven, who was laying there. Karen couldn't help but sigh.
With his back against the car wall,
He grabbed the dog's head,
"Whatever."
...
The car drove into the hospital, and Mr. Hoven was taken to the emergency room.
Paul was busy checking in.
And Karen sat on a bench by the flowerbed, leading the golden retriever.
After sitting for about half an hour, Paul came over with a smile,
"Young Master Karen, the doctor said that although Mr. Hoven is still unconscious, he is considered out of danger now."
Karen breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a bit relieved and a bit disappointed.
The old man, he was really tough. There was so much blood... and he was still alive.
"The bill has been charged to us." Paul said.
The Immeras family ran a funeral parlor and had a good relationship with nearby hospitals.
To what extent?
Aunt Winnie, who managed the accounts at home, even had a list of seriously ill patients at the hospital.
Sometimes, even if someone was still in treatment, Uncle Mason was already smoking outside waiting.
As long as there were interests, there must be a connection.
Having this relationship made the procedures simpler and faster.
"Does he need someone to accompany him?" Karen asked.
"Um... we can hire a nurse."
"Then do it."
"Yes... alright, young master. I'll arrange it."
"By the way, Paul, do you have a cigarette?"
"Yes, I do. Here."
Paul took out a half-pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed them to Karen along with a lighter.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure. I'll go hire a nurse."
"Sure, go ahead."
Karen took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. At this time, there were no strict anti-smoking rules. Even in the hospital yard, Karen saw many people smoking, and the passing nurses didn't scold them.
He lit it up and took a puff.
His brain once again issued a warning to the "toxin" invasion and his body made a rejection response. Nausea and retching immediately came.
But Karen ignored it.
He thought he was as stupid as "smoking."
A heavy smoker forcefully resisted the discomfort of the body just to learn a bad habit that will harm himself.
And,
he even allowed Mr. Hoven to be taken to the hospital to out of danger, sitting and watching himself step by step slide into the unknown abyss.
He was reproaching himself, but not very strongly.
He was regretful, but not very strongly, too.
He thought he was stupid. And this feeling was incredibly strong.