Orpheus got out of bed and walked to the door. Then, he stopped, looking down at Peuer, who was tugging at his pant leg.
Peuer spoke up, "Are you sure you want to go check out what's happening?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean, Dies isn't here. You don't have to rush to show how 'good' you are."
"Me?"
"Yes. And by the way, Dies isn't exactly a kind person either. He's only kind to family. Just a friendly reminder."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good boy."
"But I didn't say I was going to check it out."
With that, Orpheus shut the door and dragged a nearby cabinet over to block it.
"I'm just afraid that whatever's down there might go crazy and charge in."
Peuer took a few steps back, saying, "Classic cold-blooded demon."
"If I'm not mistaken, the stairs to the basement are just a couple doors down from here. It's too close."
"True."
Orpheus returned to his bed and sat down. "Peuer."
"I'm not too fond of the name you gave me. The pronunciation is strange."
"I think it's poetic."
"Poetic, huh." Peuer jumped back onto the bed. "By the way, there's something I've always been curious about—your language."
"Language?"
"Yes. Like, what does 'Mālegǔbì' mean?"
"It's about the same as locking you in a closet with a stray tomcat."
"I get it."
Peuer laid down on his side, grooming his fur.
"I have a question too," Orpheus said.
"Go ahead."
"Can you fight?"
"Fight?" Peuer sighed. "I used to be pretty good at it."
"How long ago?"
"Over a hundred years."
"You've lived that long?"
"If you were turned into a cat and lived for two hundred years, you wouldn't be envious. When I first came to the Inmeres household, Dies was just a child. Now, his granddaughter Mina is already using sanitary pads. Oh, how time flies."
"Could you use a different example?"
"Fine, how about this—last month, Rent finally learned how to use his own hands."
"Why is it still so quiet outside?" Orpheus wondered.
"Maybe she didn't go crazy and charge up here?" Peuer mused. "Or maybe you heard wrong?"
"No, it was too clear. I even heard their conversation."
"Huh, fascinating. Even a fully purified servant of the gods shouldn't have such heightened senses."
"Servant of the gods—is that a job title?"
"In the Order Church, yes. It's the lowest rank. Of course, it's different from those priests in ordinary churches who love to eavesdrop on the confessions of cheating housewives."
"Which one is Dies? What rank is a judge?"
Orpheus recalled Alfred addressing Dies as "Judge."
"Purified ones are Servants of the Gods. The next level is Enlightened, and then there's Shepherd. The fourth level is Judge. Dies is the Judge in Rojar City, responsible for eliminating any demons who defy the Order Church's teachings. And Dies isn't just any judge. I've watched him grow up—his talent is astonishing. Of course, he has his flaws, like his poor respect for the elderly."
"Are those ranks official titles or power levels?"
"They correspond to levels of mastery."
"Mastery of what?"
"Mastery of divine breath."
"Divine breath?"
"It's just a fancy term. Essentially, the aura you felt from Alfred, Mrs. Hughes when she was possessed, and even Dies, it's all the same."
"So…"
"So those 'righteous' people in the orthodox churches who preach about slaying demons—they're all demons themselves. The difference is they stand in the light and control the narrative. Some demons lack brains, you know?"
"Brainless?"
"A demon with brains and strong fists can achieve a certain status, maybe even visit the church, like I once did long ago. But if someone from the orthodox church strays from the path, they fall into darkness and become a demon hunted by all."
"I think I get it."
"Did you really not know all this?" Peuer asked curiously.
Orpheus shook his head. In his previous life, his visits to temples were purely for sightseeing—he didn't even bother to bow, except at memorials for martyrs.
"Strange," Peuer said, licking his front paw. "But I saw you make Mr. Moissan 'awaken.'"
"I have no idea how I did that."
"Do you know what the Order Church really is?"
"Maintaining order, safeguarding the light of order."
"No, no, those are just slogans for the public. In reality, the God of Order might not even be a living being."
"Not alive?"
"In the Order Church's mythology, the God of Order is said to have awakened from the underworld. Some say the Lord of Light revived him. Do you know what the Order Church's lower-level organizations look like to the public?"
"Not churches?"
"Funeral homes."
Hearing this, Orpheus had a revelation. "I always thought the funeral home was just part of the Inmeres family business. Turns out it's a church operation."
"Because much of the Order Church's power deals with corpses. In the eyes of ordinary people, when someone dies, they become a lifeless object. But in reality, even a dead body retains a certain spiritual essence. By awakening this essence, the body can be revived to some extent. Of course, how well it revives depends on how intact the body is, its strength in life, and its lingering desires."
"So, if a body revives, is it the same as when it was alive?"
"Of course not. It's just a shell with some of your memories. It's no longer you, but it might think it's still you."
Orpheus tried to wrap his mind around Peuer's explanation. It seemed to suggest that humans were a symbiosis of body and soul, but in fact, the body also stored part of the soul—like cellular memory. After death, this memory could be awakened, bringing the person back.
"Orpheus, you know, the ability to revive the dead is a skill only judges possess. Without it, you can't even qualify to be a judge."
"Me?"
"So, you're still going to say you're not a demon?" Peuer moved closer, staring at Orpheus. "I suspect that when you were summoned, some part of your soul's memory was lost, so now you've forgotten some things. But your instincts remain powerful, which is why they show up accidentally."
"You're overthinking. My memory is just fine."
"True, you remember a completely foreign language. No reason you'd have memory loss. Then there's only one other possibility."
"What possibility?"
"Are you, like the God of Order, someone who's… come back from the dead?"
"I…"
Before Orpheus could respond, Peuer burst into laughter, a cat-like laugh.
"Given that half of the Order Church's power involves corpses, and despite the development of other branches, its oldest and most orthodox methods always deal with the dead. If the God of Order is a being who came back from the dead, then wouldn't it make sense that his system is best suited for people who have also returned from the dead? Like you, with your heightened sensitivity to corpses, you don't even need purification to resonate with them, because you're both alive and a part of the dead world."
Peuer laughed again. "I'm thinking of the most ridiculous things. There's no way someone like that exists. If you were, it would mean you're the reincarnation of the God of Order. So… are you, the great, almighty Orpheus?"
"I… am not."
I'm just a fairly successful psychiatrist with my own clinic.
"Well then, how do you explain your abilities? You have a judge's essential power, even if you don't know how to control it. It's like Rent being a virgin but still having the ability to… well, you know."
"That's a terrible analogy."
"I've lived long enough. What's there to be embarrassed about?"
"You seemed embarrassed earlier."
"I just didn't like that position, damn it!"
After a moment of silence, Orpheus asked, "Peuer."
"Yes?"
"Do you think Dies will let me join the church?"
If he really had talent in this area, joining the church and becoming part of the Order could be a huge advantage.
"Ah, showing your ambition now, are we?" Peuer laughed. "But I'd suggest you give up on that. Dies would never allow another Inmeres to join the church. Your parents' deaths hit him hard. Besides, Dies is tired of the family's involvement with the Order Church. He plans to end it with his generation."
"I see."
"So, forget about joining the church. It's impossible. After all, even as I'm talking to you right now, I still don't know if I'm chatting with a god or a demon. Maybe, to you, I'm just an innocent little kitten."
"That's true."
Orpheus stood up and looked outside the hospital room. Everything seemed normal. He walked to the door, peeking through the glass window. Outside, the doctors, nurses, and patients were going about their business as usual.
"Did I hear wrong? Was I imagining things?"
"Still hearing anything?" Peuer asked.
"No, nothing now."
"Then maybe you did hear wrong."
Orpheus looked at Peuer and suggested, "How about
you go check out the basement?"
Peuer's ears perked up and then flattened.
"Are you joking?"
"Are you scared?"
"I'm weak right now. Well, I've been weak for over a hundred years."
"Then why did Dies send you to protect me?" Orpheus asked, confused. "You mean to tell me you can't even fight?"
"I can see demons. If you had brought me to that barbecue, I could've seen that woman's anomaly long before it happened. That's enough. Dies just wants me to warn you so you can run away, not stay behind and fight. Alfred and Mrs. Molly are better suited for that. Of course, if the demon isn't dangerous, I can pretend I didn't see it."
"That makes you pretty… useless."
"Even if I don't understand the term, I know it's close to being called trash."
"It's the polite version."
Orpheus pushed the cabinet back and walked over to the bed to press the call button.
After a short while, Nurse Mina came in. "What's wrong, Orpheus? Are you ready to order lunch?"
"I think I heard something from downstairs," Orpheus said, pointing to the floor beneath him.
Mina glanced at the floor and then remembered what was below. She smiled. "That's impossible."
"It's real. I heard screaming, like a nurse or doctor in distress. Could you send someone to check the basement?"
Mina nodded, "Alright, I'll take a look."
Orpheus grabbed her hand and warned, "It could be dangerous down there. You should ask security or a male doctor to go. I don't want you getting hurt."
He didn't care if others got hurt. But if something happened to Mina, it would bother him. Not because he had any special feelings for her—if he did, he wouldn't have mentioned helping his aunt clean corpses during their garden chat—but at least they had spoken. As for those he had no connection with, well, if they got hurt, they got hurt.
Although Mina thought Orpheus was being a bit paranoid, she was touched by his concern and nodded. "Alright, I'll ask the security guard on duty to go check."
"Good."
After Mina left, Orpheus hesitated for a moment before deciding not to push the cabinet back again. About twenty minutes later, Mina knocked on the door and came back in.
"Did they find anything?" Orpheus asked.
"Nothing. The basement is fine."
"No blood? No bodies?"
"Well, there are bodies, because it's the morgue. But no blood, and the director personally led the inspection. They even checked to make sure all the staff were accounted for."
"Then… maybe I was having a nightmare."
"Probably. It's normal to have nightmares while you're recovering."
"Right. Thanks."
"Have you decided what you'd like for lunch?"
Orpheus, staying in a VIP room, could order from a menu, though nothing too fancy.
"Meow."
"Dried fish."
"Got it."
"Meow."
"Pudding."
"Okay."
"Meow."
"Goat's milk."
"Alright, anything else?"
"Curry rice, but no fruit."
"You have to eat the fruit," Mina said firmly.
"Fine, fine."
"I'll have it brought up when it's ready."
"Thank you."
After Mina left, Peuer sprawled out on the bed, contentedly flicking his tail. "Orpheus, if you keep ordering meals for me every day so I don't have to eat that awful cat food anymore, I might change my opinion of you—just a little."
"Aren't you capable of speech?"
"You're an exception. If I talked to anyone else in the family and Dies found out, he'd definitely kill me."
"Ha, just a bit of food and you're already sold?"
"Try eating cat food for a hundred years straight and see how you feel. If you stop me from having to eat that stuff, you'll be the kindest demon in my eyes, even if you're an evil god."
Orpheus rubbed his ear and said, "I swear I heard conversations and screams."
"Let's hope it was just in your head. If not, it might be the beginning of madness. Some clergy members start their descent into insanity that way."
"I'm not clergy."
"You're more sensitive than them. There's a fine line between genius and madness."
An hour later, lunch arrived. Peuer ate happily, and Orpheus, at Mina's insistence, finished his fruit.
Noon passed peacefully. The afternoon, too, was uneventful. By dusk, everything was still calm.
Night fell, and there was still no sign of trouble.
"Aren't you going to sleep? You need rest to heal properly," Peuer said.
"I know."
"Still hearing anything?"
"No, nothing since noon."
"Good. Don't worry about it then. Go to sleep."
Orpheus got out of bed and walked to the door. Through the glass, he could see that apart from the light still on in the nurses' station, there was no other activity. Still, he pushed the cabinet back against the door and propped a mop handle under the doorknob.
Satisfied with his makeshift barricade, Orpheus lay down and closed his eyes. He hadn't napped that afternoon, and what Peuer said about rest aiding recovery made sense. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep.
As he slept, he began to hear the rustling sound again. Was it just his imagination?
A heavy drowsiness weighed on him, and Orpheus found himself resisting the noise.
"My money… my money… my money…"
Damn it! Orpheus cursed in his mind but tried to sleep on.
The voice disappeared, but now he heard a scraping sound, as if someone were digging or something was being scratched away, dust and debris falling and scattering.
Orpheus ignored it. As long as it wasn't talking, he could handle it. He'd lived next to a busy highway before, falling asleep to the sound of trucks passing by every night.
Rustle, rustle, rustle.
The sound seemed to get closer, clearer.
Sighing, Orpheus opened his eyes and reached out to nudge Peuer, who was curled up at the edge of his pillow. The black cat didn't budge, no matter how much he pushed. It was like a lifeless stuffed animal.
"Peuer, Peuer, do you hear that? What is it? It's getting closer."
Peuer didn't move.
Do cats really sleep this deeply?
Orpheus propped himself up and patted Peuer on the back. Still, no response.
Rustle, rustle.
The sound was coming from under the bed.
Orpheus leaned over the side, peeking under the bed. There was nothing unusual.
He glanced at the door—everything was secure. The cabinet was still blocking the door, and the mop was in place. Everything seemed safe.
Rustle, rustle.
But the noise was still getting louder.
That's when Orpheus refocused his attention on the floor beneath the bed. He leaned forward further, careful not to put pressure on the wound in his chest, using one hand to steady himself.
His face was now inches from the floor.
Then—
Crash!
Something shifted. It was like something had broken free, and Orpheus watched as a small hole opened up in the floor, the sides lined with steel bars and concrete.
Compelled by some strange force, Orpheus brought his face closer to the hole, trying to see what was below.
He saw stretchers, some with bodies on them, covered by white sheets.
Suddenly, an old woman's wrinkled face filled the hole, staring straight at him.
She asked, "Hey, did you steal my money?"