13 Mink Street

Chapter 29: What You Must Know

Looking at Ron, the man seemed completely different from before. He was empty-eyed, as though lost in his own haze. It was clear that something was wrong with the copper coin. That much had already become certain.

“Holy relic” was nothing more than a name for objects that were vessels for holy aura. As Pu’er had said, demonkin and priests were fundamentally the same.

“My money... my money... my money...” Ron’s lips kept moving as the saliva trailed down his chin.

“Ron, what’s wrong?” Paul’s voice cut through the moment. He was unsettled by the change in Ron.

Karon hesitated before reaching up to return the copper coin. Let Ron hold onto it for now, to keep him grounded.

After all, Ron worked for Immers family. He wouldn’t run away, and they were nearly home. Once they arrived, Karon could speak to Tiz. Ron could cradle the coin for a little longer; There was no harm in that.

It was easy to hand in a penny found on the street: simply give it to a policeman. However, if you found a gold bar, things became completely different. There would be an internal struggle, even if you did the right thing in the end. Even the most principled person, as long as they were human, would feel the tug of greed.

Karon steadied himself with a long breath as he pressed the copper coin back into Ron’s hand. Instantly, the man’s features cleared. His expression transformed into a warm smile as he pressed his lips to the coin. As for Karon, he felt a cold space open up inside.

So, after just a brief moment of holding the coin, it already has a grip on me? Its power was undeniable, and yet it was also only copper; It was worthless.

The hearse finally pulled up to the house. The last of the mourners were slipping away. The day’s wake had come to an end.

“Whose funeral was it?” Karon asked Paul.

“Today was Old Darcy,” Paul replied.

“Old Darcy?” Karon paused. “Who paid for his funeral?”

Old Darcy had left behind family and acquaintances, but as someone who had worked at a crematorium, whatever meager funds he’d scraped together over the years had come from odd jobs. It was highly unlikely that any of his connections would pay to have his funeral at the Immers house. The last person who had been willing to honor him properly, Mrs. Hughes, was considered a fugitive.

“Mrs. Hughes’ property’s been seized, and the crematorium’s being prepared for auction. What’s left of her estate will go to compensate the victims,” Paul explained.

Uncle Mason, having shut off the hearse, turned to mention, “We’re thinking about acquiring Hughes Crematorium.”

“What’s the price?” Karon asked.

“It’s not set yet. I’ll meet with the auction official in a few days, to see what kind of kickback they’re after. There aren’t any open bids these days.”

Paul and Ron gently lifted Karon from the comfort of the coffin and eased him onto a gurney.

A familiar voice called his name. It was Piaget. The man stood there in formal black, drawn to Old Darcy’s funeral.

“Old Darcy helped me collect Linda’s ashes,” he said quietly. His smile was gentle, and his voice warm. “So I came to pay my respects. Also, since I heard you’d be discharged this afternoon, I waited a bit longer.”

“One, two, three!” Paul and Ron lowered Karon from the hearse to the gurney.

Ron’s grip slipped, causing his copper coin to tumble to the ground and roll away. The man instantly lunged for it.

Uncle Mason managed to catch the gurney just in time to prevent Karon from toppling off at the entrance of the house and reopening his wound before even making it inside.

Piaget stooped and picked up the coin.

“Mine, mine, mine,” Ron kept repeating as he shuffled towards Piaget.

Handing the coin back, Piaget’s calm expression never wavered; The same gentle smile as ever remained. When Karon had given back the coin, it had left a hollow ache in its wake. For Piaget, there was nothing.

It was possible that the man was simply too wealthy. For him, there would be no difference regardless of whether he found a penny or a gold bar on the side of the road.

“My copper coin, my copper coin.” Ron cradled the coin tight, as though it were an infant.

After ensuring the gurney was securely inside the gate, Uncle Mason walked over and kicked Ron to the ground. The man simply clung even tighter to his coin while grinning up at Mason.

“Have you lost your mind, Ron?”

Ron just smiled. Uncle Mason clenched his jaw, but said nothing more. He went back to join Paul pushing Karon further into the house.

Piaget took off his hat, bidding Karon farewell, “I’ll come by in a few days. Get some rest.”

“Thank you, Piaget.”

The gurney rolled into the living room. If they were headed for the basement, it would be easy enough with the ramp leading down. Habits, once formed, had a way of repeating themselves. Still, Paul and the others managed to resist their instincts and instead carried Karon and the gurney up to the third floor and into his room.

Lent, Mina, and Clarice were still at school. Old Darcy’s funeral had been modest, so it had been easy enough for the family to manage without the children for the day.

Once Karon was settled into bed, Aunt Mary entered with snacks and a glass of water. “My, Karon, you’ve been through so much,” she said. “Now that you’re home, just rest. Tell me if you want anything to eat.”

There was a note of regret to her words, guilt having weighed on her since the incident with Mrs. Hughes.

“Aunt, Grandpa’s home, isn’t he?” Karon asked.

“He is. He’s in his study,” Aunt Mary replied, a small smile appearing. She knew how much Tiz cared for his eldest grandson, though the old man would never admit it himself, nor even be the first to greet Karon. “I’ll call him for you.”

Just a few moments passed before Tiz appeared in the doorway. Karon did not waste time on pleasantries, and immediately explained the situation, afraid that any delay might see things slip further out of control.

Tiz also did not tarry, but simply turned around and left at once.

About two minutes later, Ron entered the room, Tiz close behind him. The older man quietly closed the door behind them.

“Sir, did you need something?” Ron was still unsure why he had been summoned. If it was about work, he would normally go to the study. “About earlier, I just lost my grip. I'm sorry, it won’t happen again.”

The man assumed that he was in trouble for dropping the young master.

“Ron. Hand over the copper coin.”

“Copper coin?” Ron pulled the coin from his pocket, yet kept it tightly clenched in his fist.

“Give it to me,” Tiz ordered, his tone brooking no refusal.

Ron hesitated, then let out a long, steadying breath and slowly opened his hand. Tiz reached out and took the coin. Ron stared as the coin was taken from him. Gradually, his expression emptied, as though something vital was slipping away. He muttered, “My money... my money...”

His hand reached for Tiz, unable to fully abandon the coin.

As Tiz examined the copper coin, his other hand clasped around Ron’s neck. With a sharp twist of force, Ron was driven to his knees. Just the pressure of that one hand drained all resistance from the man. His body went slack, and mucus spilled from his nose as if something essential was being ripped away. The expression on his face resembled that of a man in the grip of withdrawal.

“How did this end up here?” Tiz muttered, his gaze fixed on the coin.

Karon asked, “What is it?”

“A Wellspring of Sin of the Lacresis Church.”

“A Wellspring of Sin?” Calling money the source of all evil was not entirely wrong. It was simply... much too shallow of an explanation.

Tiz seemed to catch the doubt in Karon’s tone. Back at the hospital, he had already said that once Karon recovered, there would be no more concealment. “The Lacresis Church has countless followers across the Eastern Desert Continent,” Tiz calmly explained. “They preach that suffering in this life is the price for salvation in the next. Their doctrine demands absolute austerity, treating material desires as a poison to the soul. Anything beyond bare survival is to be rejected, suppressed, erased.”

Listening, Karon heard nothing surprising. Most established churches, especially in their beginning, protected the interests of the ruling class, urging the lower classes towards patience and submission. The Church of Lacresis fit that pattern, moving in the opposite direction as the Berai Church.

Tiz gently rubbed his thumb across the copper coin. “The true god Lacresis, it’s said, was tormented by the endless wars over wealth among his people. Before he died, he forged a copper coffin etched with nine demonic serpents. He ordered his followers to gather the world’s Wellsprings of Sin, and then melt them down into nine coins. These coins—the Wellsprings of Sin—were sealed in his coffin with his remains.”

As Tiz spoke, Karon searched his own memory, or rather, that of the original Karon. “Lacresis’s treasures?”

Tiz nodded. “Many imagine Lacresis’s tomb to be a mountain of riches. It’s a recurring image in novels and films.”

Fragments of a story surfaced; An explorer who found Lacresis’s grave, took the fortune inside, only to unleash a curse for his trouble.

Tiz sat beside Karon’s bed and placed the copper coin before him. “In the story of the Church of Lacresis, what the true god Lacresis appeared to do—amassing grave goods for himself—was, in truth, something far more subtle. What he sealed away was not wealth, but human greed. Greed fashioned into nine coins, icons of sin rather than objects of fortune. Looking back, Lacresis’s solution was practically naïve in its simplicity. Greed, even swept away and bound, will simply return. It’s quick to regenerate, and impossible to contain forever.”

Karon asked, “So is this coin is one of Lacresis’s Wellsprings of Sin? One of the nine?”

Tiz shook his head. “No. If it were one of the nine, its power would unravel far more than just the one holding it. Wherever it appeared, it would draw in an entire city, setting people against each other in a bloodlust for possession. This coin is different. It was likely crafted by a powerful priest of the Church of Lacresis, imitating what the god had done: gathering greed from the dying and forging it into a keepsake for their tomb. The nature is similar, but the effect and range are greatly diminished, being mere shadows of the true god’s work. I would guess that the priest’s grave was ransacked long ago, this coin lost to time. Still, for ordinary folk, it carries a dangerous allure. Few have the strength to bear the shock of sudden wealth. Even if you resist it, keeping it close will break you down, until it becomes a part of you, and you a part of it. Even by the standards of the Church of Order’s relic sequence, it would be considered high-ranking.”

“What will you do with it, Grandpa?”

“I’ll turn it in. Keeping it here would not be safe. Once submitted, it will be dealt with appropriately.”

It wasn’t about money at all. The cold hollow left behind after parting with the coin was the quiet discomfort of parting with something that carried a unique pull. Such objects, tools, relics, or whatever name given to them, always felt safer when kept close. Like a squirrel stashing pine nuts, potential usefulness didn’t matter. Hoarding simply induced a simple, stubborn satisfaction.

Karon’s grandfather was right. A single misstep, and he might return home to find a tragedy; his uncle, aunts, and cousins gathered and chanting in a fever, “My money... my money...”

The mental image alone left his skin crawling.

“Why was the Beguiler last night so strong?” he asked.

Ron, sluggish and still in a daze, seemed unlikely to ever become like the thing from the hospital, even if he suffered weeks in the coin’s grip.

“She was a practitioner of divination,” Tiz answered. “When I examined her body in the morgue, I saw the tattoos. She was a Chasset, a wandering diviner.”

According to the original Karon’s memory, the Chasset were outsiders, a nomadic people who scraped by on divination, theft, and prostitution. There was a Chasset community in Roja City. He remembered, two years before, a Chasset man riding by on a motorbike with his wife. Karon, walking home from school, had been startled when the man called out, laughing, to ask if he wanted to sample his wife’s skills. Karon had fled, panic pounding in his chest. His unease with the world had only grown after that day.

“So it’s not just the churches’ priests who wield special powers?” Karon asked.

“Where did you hear that?” Tiz replied. This touched upon the nature of systems.

“Alfred told me.”

Tiz explained, “Priests might be the mainstream, but that doesn’t always mean the majority. It simply means that they are the ones who can act openly, in the light. Outside of the churches, there are many other groups and individuals with their own traditions and who are also able to manifest such abilities.”

He glanced down at Ron lying on the floor. “Order... Purify!”

From his bed, Karon saw a white light flare from Tiz’s fingertip. The finger was pressed to Ron’s forehead. The man convulsed, and black wisps of smoke rose from his nose and mouth.

Tiz stated, “Excessive dependence, even of the mind, violates Order.”

Watching, Karon almost wanted to ask if such an ability could rid a man of an addiction to cigarettes.

Ron went limp, and then started snoring. Tiz smacked him sharply, once, then twice across the face. Ron awoke with a jolt. “Sir, what happened...?”

He looked lost, his memory ragged. It was possible that whatever the coin had stolen was gone for good, leaving behind only confusion.

Tiz ordered, “Go home. Get some sleep. Next shift, don’t fall asleep at your post.”

“Yes sir. It won’t happen again,” Ron stammered before hurrying off. A job with the Immers family paid well, and was much better than working in the factories. He would do nothing to risk losing it.

Once Ron was gone, Tiz dropped the copper coin into the glass Aunt Mary had left in the room for Karon. The coin struck the bottom with a clean, ringing note.

"You spoke about Ron quickly, too quickly," Tiz said, touching his ear, and then his temple. "If I hadn’t been paying close attention, I might not have understood you at all."

Karon offered a small smile. “When something urgent needs to be said, it’s better to just get it all out as fast as possible, just in case. If things had gone wrong, I’d feel... rather foolish.

“Oh no, Grandpa, I don’t mean you."

Tiz nodded as he pulled a chair from the desk and sat down across from Karon. "Then I won’t waste time. I’ll tell you what you must know about yourself. Which do you prefer: that I speak and you listen, or that you ask questions for me to answer?"

"You go first, Grandpa. When you’re finished, I’ll ask my questions."

"Very well.

"Your parents. I killed them with my own hands."