"What are you thinking about, brother?"
After helping Orpheus take care of his nose, Mina noticed her cousin staring blankly out the window and asked curiously.
In the past, her brother's reclusive nature was likely due to their parents' death. He had stopped attending school after junior high and spent his days at home, rarely interacting with anyone.
However, after his recent severe illness, although he occasionally seemed a bit "absent-minded," he had become much more cheerful than before, making her more willing to talk to him.
"Oh, I was thinking about whether I should go back to school."
Orpheus gently rubbed the tip of his nose, the pain much less than before. His nostrils were stuffed with cotton, which would probably need to stay in for a while.
Earlier, he had been reflecting on what had happened in the basement and the scenes in the dream. He wondered if these were random occurrences related to his "body" and "mind," or if he had actually encountered a "supernatural event."
After all, most of the conditions required for triggering such events were already present in the basement earlier.
But, it was just a dream. No matter how horrifying a nightmare is, once you wake up, the fear quickly dissipates.
Afterward, Orpheus spent more time contemplating his future path.
He didn't believe that just because he was a "transmigrator," he would easily make a fortune and start a successful life.
But having built himself up from scratch in his past life,
he was confident in his ability and qualifications to carve out a decent life in this "new world."
After all, "Orpheus's" identity brought no real burdens, and while it might not provide much support, it certainly didn't drag him down.
And that was enough.
"Brother used to hate school the most," Mina said with a smile.
The old Orpheus was somewhat autistic, naturally disliking crowded places like schools.
"School is very important, especially when you're young," Orpheus said seriously. "Most people, when they grow up, will regret not working harder and enduring more hardships when they were in school."
"You sound just like Mom, saying that."
"Hehe." Orpheus shrugged. "Mina, can you get me a glass of water?"
"Okay, brother."
Mina obediently went to get him some water.
Orpheus, meanwhile, opened the window in the room. The fresh air rushed in, and he took a deep breath. He then closed the window again—it was too cold.
Turning back, he saw that the black cat, Poe, had somehow appeared on his bed. It lay there, watching him with its cat eyes, occasionally tilting its head as if examining him up and down.
"Poe, ch-ch-ch-ch…"
Orpheus tried to coax the black cat using the universal "call sounds" for cats and dogs.
Poe tilted its head but didn't take the bait.
Orpheus walked over, and the cat didn't show any fear—after all, Orpheus was still family. Orpheus reached out and patted the cat's head.
"Meow…"
Poe turned its head, seemingly displeased by the affection.
"Why did Grandpa give you such a strange name?" Orpheus muttered to himself. "Poe... Poe, hehe, it would sound much fresher if you were called 'Puer.'"
The black cat shifted slightly, clearly unimpressed by the similar-sounding "new name."
Mina returned with a glass of water and said,
"Mom is calling Dad."
"Hmm?"
In this era, mobile phones didn't exist, so calling someone on a landline wasn't very efficient.
Besides, Mason was likely driving around town in his hearse, "drifting" somewhere.
After delivering the water, Mina skillfully picked up a cloth to wipe the windowsill. The Immolras family used to have two maids—one for cleaning and another for cooking—but after Mason's family and Aunt Winnie and her daughter moved back in, Grandpa had dismissed both maids.
Now, Mina, her brother Lent, and Aunt Winnie's daughter, Chris, took care of the household chores, while Aunt Mary and Aunt Winnie took turns cooking.
Everyone in the family had "work," making Orpheus the freest person at home.
This also showed that Grandpa Deese, usually stern, treated his eldest grandson differently than the others.
Just then, Grandpa came upstairs.
Mina immediately stood at attention, and Orpheus, holding his water glass, did the same.
In many households, the presence of rules doesn't depend on so-called "family upbringing" or "tradition," but on whether there's someone in the family who commands respect and fear.
Deese's gaze swept over his grandson and granddaughter, lingering a bit longer on his grandson, before he said nothing and entered his room.
The tense atmosphere in the air only dissipated when the door closed, allowing things to "flow" again.
Orpheus exhaled, looking down at Mina, who was doing the same.
"Grandpa seems busy every day," Orpheus remarked.
"Yes, there's a lot to do at the church, and Grandpa often travels," Mina replied.
As they spoke, Grandpa's door opened, and he came out again, now dressed in "priest" robes, carrying a black suitcase.
"I won't be back for lunch," Deese said.
"Oh, okay, Grandpa," Mina responded immediately.
Deese descended the stairs.
Orpheus soon saw him in the courtyard from the windowsill.
The outfit Deese wore was clearly religious, but there was something distinct about it, giving a very specific impression.
To an outsider, Deese being a "priest" could seem like it helped the family business, as it made it easier for church members to trust him and thus secure more business.
But Orpheus didn't believe it was that simple. As Grandpa opened the gate and stepped out, Orpheus suddenly recognized the source of that impression.
"Our Grandpa is a bit like Uncle Nine."
"Brother, who's Uncle Nine?"
"A priest who specializes in catching vampires."
"Oh, in plays?"
"Yeah, that's right. Mina, do you need to mop here?"
"Yes, and the stairs too."
"I'll help you."
"But, brother, your body?"
"I'm fine."
Orpheus helped Mina mop the floor, then moved on to the stairs. When it came time to change the water, he went to the courtyard, where there was a large faucet that made filling the bucket faster.
At that moment, Uncle Mason returned in his modified "shell" car. Ron and Paul unloaded a stretcher, which held an old man with white hair peeking out from under the sheet.
Uncle Mason hurried into the courtyard without noticing Orpheus, who was filling the bucket in a corner, and went straight to Aunt Mary.
"Your father is looking for you," Aunt Mary said.
"Where is he?" Uncle Mason's eyes darted around.
He looked like someone who had done something wrong and was afraid of being scolded by a parent. Due to his previous profession, Orpheus tended to notice these details.
"Father just left," Aunt Mary said.
"This…" Uncle Mason seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, then said, "No problem, no problem. I'll go look for him outside. He might be at the church."
"Okay, go ahead."
Uncle Mason quickly ran off, leaving the car behind.
Aunt Mary didn't notice her husband's strange behavior,
Because she was focused on the old man who had just been brought from the nursing home.
Soon,
Her sharp scream filled the air:
"Oh my god, why is there still shit on him?!"
...
Having failed to follow instructions, Paul and Ron were assigned to clean the body. Faced with Aunt Mary's anger, they didn't dare resist.
Paul took the stretcher to the basement, while Ron came over to Orpheus:
"Master Orpheus, I need to borrow your bucket and mop."
"Let me carry them down for you."
"No, no," Ron said, cracking his neck. He was a tall, heavyset man, already sporting a prominent beer belly despite his relatively young age. "We'll handle it."
Orpheus smiled and asked, "So why didn't you get the nurse to clean up the body?"
That was supposed to be the nursing home's job—initially cleaning the deceased's body. After all, it wouldn't look good if family members saw their relative's body covered in filth.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Master Orpheus." Ron scratched his head in embarrassment. "I've got a date with the nurse in charge of Mr. Mosan in a couple of days."
So that's it...
Ron's face turned slightly red as he continued:
"She said she likes watching movies and eating popcorn, and she wants to feed me during the movie. So… I didn't want the hand that feeds me popcorn to have just cleaned up that mess.
You know, Master Orpheus, feeding popcorn to each other during a movie is really sweet. In the dim light, when she feeds you, you can even lick her fingers with your tongue.
Oh, it's just wonderful!"
"You're dreaming."
Paul's voice interrupted. He had brought Mr. Mosan down to the basement and was now back to get plastic gloves and detergent.
"Paul, you're just jealous of me!"
"Jealous? Come on, Ron, the only woman who'd be interested in you besides Mrs. Hughes, the owner of Hughes Crematorium, is probably Mrs. Hughes herself."
"That's nonsense!"
Ron pointed angrily at Paul.
"Mrs. Hughes?" Orpheus asked curiously.
The owner of a crematorium should be a wealthy lady, so why was Ron so agitated?
"Haha." Paul laughed before explaining. "Master Orpheus, you probably don't know. Before a body is pushed into the furnace, it needs to be doused with gasoline to aid burning. Thin people need more gasoline; otherwise, the bones won't
burn properly. But fat people, they've got enough oil on them already to burn nicely.
So, Mrs. Hughes loves people like Ron because they save on fuel."
"Is that so."
"Damn you, Paul, how dare you make up such stories about me in front of Master Orpheus!"
"Let's go, let's get back to work. Otherwise, Mrs. Mary will get angry again."
The two bickered as they carried the cleaning supplies downstairs.
In the hall, Aunt Mary lit a cigarette. Her mood had improved.
Because Paul had given her good news—the old man, Mr. Mosan, had children who would be coming later.
If it wasn't a charity case, it meant there would be some profit, even if it was just the lowest-level package.
And Aunt Mary's "salary" depended on the family's "performance." After covering expenses and setting aside savings, the remaining profit would be distributed as allowances to the family members.
The finances were managed by Aunt Winnie.
This was why no one in the family ever badmouthed Grandpa behind his back, despite fearing him—he was strict but definitely not a stingy old man.
Orpheus went back to the second floor to help his cousin Mina with the furniture.
Just as they were finishing up, Ron and Paul came back up from the basement. They had finished cleaning the body, and it was now Aunt Mary's turn.
Since the family might come in the afternoon to arrange the memorial, it was important to make the old man look good in advance.
But it seemed the family had a visitor. Orpheus heard Aunt Mary calling him from downstairs:
"Orpheus, come down and entertain Mr. Hoffen."
Orpheus paused to recall who "Mr. Hoffen" was:
An elderly man, a retired professor of philosophy, with a good pension and a comfortable life. He was friends with Grandpa and often came over for tea and conversation.
Additionally, he was very interested in divination and once gave Orpheus a set of intricate playing cards—not Tarot cards, just regular playing cards.
Orpheus went to the second-floor kitchen, made a cup of tea, and prepared some simple snacks before heading to the first-floor living room.
Mr. Hoffen was tall but very thin;
Thin people tend to have more defined features, and their emotions are more easily readable.
When Orpheus saw him,
He noticed Mr. Hoffen's gaze was locked onto him.
Even the golden retriever lying next to Mr. Hoffen seemed to sense its owner's emotional fluctuation, standing up slowly but hesitantly, unsure what was wrong.
It wasn't until it spotted Poe lounging at the staircase that it seemed to instinctively find a point of interest and wanted to approach.
But Poe only glanced at the golden retriever, and the dog immediately wilted, lying back down.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hoffen. My grandpa went out, but I'm sure he'll be back soon. My uncle has already gone to find him."
Orpheus set down the tea and offered a polite platitude.
Unexpectedly,
At that moment,
Mr. Hoffen suddenly grabbed Orpheus's wrist, his face instantly closing in, his breathing becoming rapid,
And he asked, in a suppressed yet uncontrollably excited tone:
"You're not Orpheus… who are you?"
In an instant, a wave of panic surged through Orpheus's mind. This panic stemmed from the fact that the man before him had, in a single encounter, directly exposed his "identity issue," leaving Orpheus, who had spent half a month mentally preparing himself, momentarily flustered.
Instinctively, Orpheus took two steps back, trying to put some distance between them.
Unluckily, as he did so, he accidentally pulled Mr. Hoffen forward, causing the old man to lose his balance. He tried to catch himself on the table but missed, falling forward and hitting his forehead on the table's edge.
"Thud!"
The dull sound echoed,
Followed by,
Mr. Hoffen collapsing backward, the back of his head slamming hard and unimpeded against the tiled floor.
"Crack!"
Orpheus stared in shock at the scene before him.
The elderly man who had just pointed out his "identity issue" was now barely breathing.
Moreover,
A large pool of blood was spreading out from beneath his head onto the living room tiles.
At that moment, Mina, who had been busy upstairs, seemed to have heard the noise and called from the staircase:
"Brother, what happened downstairs?"
Orpheus licked his lips,
Slowly straightening up,
And replied:
"Mr. Hoffen had a stroke and fell."