Nearby, a patient had passed away in a hospital, and Uncle Mason had already taken Paul and Ron there;

That’s how business was—either there would be a long stretch of quiet days, or suddenly orders would come flooding in.

Of course, from an emotional standpoint, most people did not hope that the Yimoleis family business would thrive.

After Karen had lunch, he went to the first floor.

He first sat on the sofa and flipped through the newspaper.

The newspaper reported on an incident at the Crown Ballroom yesterday that resulted in two deaths and several injuries, but there was no mention of any murder case, and the death of Old Darcy at Shus Funeral Home wasn’t reported either.

Instead, the front-page headline featured the campaign statement of the former mayor of Logia City, making it easy to guess that this serial murder case had been suppressed; after all, the mayoral election was in full swing.

If news of a vicious serial killer were to break out, it would easily cause panic among the public, and people would question the old mayor’s capabilities, knowing that he had always touted “public security” as his proudest achievement.

“Do you need coffee?” Aunt Winnie came down carrying a pot of coffee, which was prepared for Aunt Mary, who was working in the basement, but Karen could have a cup too.

“No, thank you, Aunt. I’m heading out for a while to have coffee at someone else's place; I prefer to save what I can at home.”

“Pfft…”

Aunt Winnie laughed at his words, saying, “You’re starting to sound more and more like Aunt Mary.”

At that moment, the phone in the living room rang.

Karen stood up and took the coffee from his aunt’s hands: “I’ll take this down to Aunt Mary.”

“Okay.”

Aunt Winnie went to answer the phone.

Walking into the basement, Karen lightly knocked on the already open door of Aunt Mary’s workspace.

Inside, “Logia Elf” was playing, its lively melody filling the room, and Aunt Mary was humming along, her back facing the door as her somewhat plump figure was accentuated by her long dress.

This inadvertently reminded Karen of Mrs. Seymour, who had stripped off her clothes in front of him last night; she was too thin.

Though judging the figure of an elder was considered an immoral act, he could still see the difference between what looked good and what didn’t, even among relatives, as long as one maintained a clear mind.

It was best to appreciate it as one would an art piece.

Tsk… Appreciate, art piece.

Karen suddenly realized that because of that serial killer, these words had taken on a different meaning for him recently.

“Oh, my Karen, did you come to bring your beautiful aunt some coffee?”

“Yes, my beautiful and charming aunt.”

It was clear that Aunt Mary was in a good mood; the B set meal evidently nourished her better than Uncle Mason could.

Because besides the family members’ profit-sharing from the business, Aunt Mary’s base salary and performance bonuses were the highest; the better the family business, the more her income.

Being a mortician is not just about doing simple makeup;

Just like in a while when Old Darcy would be sent over once the police finished handling the case or collecting evidence,

Aunt Mary would have to piece together dozens of pieces of Old Darcy back to completeness.

This was a job even that perverse killer couldn’t complete, but for Aunt Mary, it was no problem at all.

Karen poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Aunt Mary, who sipped it slowly;

While working, coffee was just there to adjust her mood, and she didn’t have time to savor it.

Karen noticed that Aunt Mary was currently helping Mr. Seymour’s body with some spray paint.

Yes, spray paint, as if maintaining a car.

Moreover, Mr. Seymour’s abs… they were indeed bronze-colored.

“Isn’t it nice?”

Aunt Mary, holding the coffee cup in one hand, touched Mr. Seymour’s abs with the other, and said to Karen:

“You can touch it; Mr. Seymour won’t mind.”

“No, thank you, Aunt.”

He still wasn’t used to touching a man’s abs, especially a dead man’s.

“Mr. Seymour’s physique is indeed quite impressive; it’s clear he liked to work out when he was alive.”

Upon hearing this, a thought suddenly crossed Karen's mind;

If only he could take Mr. Seymour to visit Mr. Piaget, it would seem that safety would be guaranteed.

Although Mr. Seymour had been spray-painted, it could be seen that he was actually quite muscular, and if he could stand and walk with him, he would make a good bodyguard.

But then Karen chuckled to himself,

What kind of dream was he having?

Mr. Seymour’s face was pinned with many needles and held together with thread;

“Mrs. Seymour said she was attracted to Mr. Seymour's rugged image when she was young, so she hoped he could be buried in her ideal form, so I have to shape his face to bring out more angles.”

Karen nodded, no wonder when he looked at Mr. Seymour's half “decorated” face earlier, it resembled Schwarzenegger.

“Aunt, I’ll head upstairs now; I’m going to visit Mr. Piaget.”

“Go ahead, go ahead.”

Aunt Mary set down her coffee cup and continued her artistic creation.

...

Back in the living room, Karen tidied up his clothes, putting a thousand rubles in his pocket; he planned to buy some snacks or fruits before visiting Mr. Piaget.

Puer was lying flat on the mortuary table, facing inward, his tail completely still, as if “playing dead” would help him escape Karen’s notice.

But Karen still walked over and picked him up.

He trusted Dis's words, because if Dis wanted to harm him, he wouldn’t go through all these twists and turns.

Holding the cat, as he walked out of the living room, Karen noticed the golden retriever lying in the flower bed.

He glanced at the cat in his arms,

Then at the big golden retriever,

Somehow, he felt that this big dog could provide him with more security.

After hesitating for a moment,

Karen walked over and took the golden retriever’s leash.

Thus,

One person, one cat, and one dog,

Standing outside, waiting for a taxi.

Soon, a taxi pulled up, and the driver leaned out, saying to Karen:

"Sir, there's an extra cleaning fee for pets."

"Then please leave; I won't take your cab."

The driver was taken aback. He replied, "I won’t charge you this time; who knows, maybe I just like pets too. Please get in."

"To 45 Rhine Street. How much will it be?"

"45 rupees."

"Then please go away."

"Hahaha, how about 30 rupees? It's my birthday today."

"25 rupees."

"That's way too low." The driver showed a troubled expression.

"I'll stop by the pastry shop on the way; I'll treat you to a 10-rupee cake to celebrate your birthday."

"You’re in; get in the car."

……

At 1 PM;

Karen stood at the door of 45 Rhine Street, holding a box of macarons.

Beside him sat a cat and a dog.

Karen stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

Before long,

The inner door opened, and a woman in a pink house dress came out, looking a bit puzzled at this stranger before her.

"Excuse me, are you Mrs. Adams?"

Piaget's full name is: Piaget Adams.

"Yes, you can call me Linda. May I ask who you are?"

"I am a friend of your husband, here to visit as invited."

And also,

The one who personally held your ashes.

"Yes, my husband went out yesterday specifically to visit a friend. Unfortunately, that friend wasn't home. I suppose that was you?"

"Yes, ma'am, you can call me Karen."

"Please, come in."

Linda opened the gate and invited Karen inside.

Karen then handed the beautifully packaged box of macarons to Linda.

He had specifically chosen the most luxurious one from the pastry shop, which cost 500 rupees a box.

The shop staff had also given him some small cakes, which Karen had given to the driver, regardless of whether it was actually his birthday, simply because Karen didn’t enjoy overly sweet treats.

Spending 500 rupees on a box of pastries was indeed a bit extravagant, but considering the wealth of the family he was visiting, the gift couldn’t be too shabby.

He certainly couldn’t show up with a large bag of egg cakes worth just 50 rupees.

After all, the man had once given him a consultation fee of 20,000 rupees.

"You are too kind; there’s no need to bring gifts."

"It’s only right."

"Mr. Karen, did you meet my husband while fishing? Are you fishing buddies?"

I met your husband while carrying your ashes.

"Yes, your husband taught me a lot about fishing."

"I see."

Linda led Karen into the living room.

"Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee." After a pause, Karen added, "With extra sugar, please."

"Alright, please wait a moment."

Before long, Linda brought out the coffee and a plate of pastries.

Karen took a sip of the coffee,

His brow furrowing slightly at the bitterness.

He really wanted to ask if sugar had actually been added.

Due to his dietary habits, Karen didn’t have any special attachment to coffee. When he was younger, he had worked hard for his career, enjoying coffee for its stimulating effects. Later, as his conditions improved, he tried to upgrade his coffee experience but could never quite get used to it.

Tea was the same; he was accustomed to brewing it in large jars, and he no longer had the patience to pursue something more refined.

"Do you need to prepare some food for your two pets?" Linda asked.

"You're too kind; it’s not necessary."

"My husband is taking a nap right now. I'll go wake him up for you to chat. I’m sorry it might take a little while."

"That's alright, ma'am."

Linda went upstairs.

Karen stood up and wandered around the living room. Above the fireplace, there hung a large oil painting of Linda and Piaget.

On the coffee table, he noticed some framed photos, which were travel pictures of the couple; judging by the backgrounds, they had visited many countries together.

"They really make a good couple; they look quite compatible."

Moreover, the Adams family was indeed wealthy. This detached villa was worth at least twice that of the Immerles family, after all, this area truly belonged to the affluent part of Roja City.

"Linda, Linda?"

A voice called from outside, sounding somewhat familiar.

Karen stepped out of the living room and saw Mrs. Seymour standing at the gate.

"Oh my God."

When Mrs. Seymour saw Karen, her face immediately flushed, and she covered her mouth.

She had completely lost control of her emotions yesterday, doing many impulsive things. The expensive package for her husband's funeral and the shopping at luxury stores in a hearse didn't bother her too much. Although she lived simply, she was quite well-off; after her husband passed, she became the sole inheritor of his estate. She had money.

What made her feel extremely embarrassed when she got home and lay in bed last night was that

She had actually asked that young man to sleep with her.

Oh God,

Am I crazy!?

She spent the entire second half of the night in a state of shame and self-recrimination, finally falling asleep only when the sky began to lighten.

To her surprise, she indeed dreamt about being with that handsome young man.

Upon waking,

She slapped herself twice.

Then she smiled.

Who would have thought, at that moment, she would see that young man at the neighbor's house.

" Hello, Mrs. Seymour." Karen greeted her first.

"Mr. Karen, I didn’t expect to see you here. Oh, I forgot, you mentioned last night that you are friends with Mr. Adams."

"Yes, I came to visit him today."

"I actually came to discuss the handling of my husband's belongings with Linda. I want to donate his clothes and shoes to charity."

"You are very kind."

"Since there are guests at home, I should head back."

When guests are over, the hostess certainly must entertain them.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Karen, would you mind coming over to my house later?"

Karen did not show any sign of rejection.

For a lady, no, for a woman, this was a significant cruelty and rudeness.

At the same time, he understood that the now clear-headed Mrs. Seymour wouldn’t do anything inappropriate again, especially since she was now the main patron of her household.

"Of course, I’d be happy to visit you."

Mrs. Seymour smiled and said, "My husband has a watch that I think would suit your temperament well. I’d like to give it to you. I noticed you don't have a watch on your wrist."

Actually, Mrs. Hughes had given him a watch before.

But due to habits from his past life, Karen actually didn't like wearing watches; he hardly ever went out.

"Then I’ll come over to admire that watch later."

"Okay."

Mrs. Seymour left with a smile.

Karen walked back into the living room just in time to see Piaget coming down the stairs, looking groggy with messy hair.

"Oh, Karen, your visit is such an honor."

Piaget descended the stairs, opened his arms, and gave Karen a big hug.

Then he looked at the coffee on the table and said apologetically,

"I’m so sorry; you had to make your own coffee after coming."

"It was your wife who made it for me," Karen replied.

"My wife? Who?" Piaget asked, puzzled. "Oh my God, Linda is already gone. Don't you remember, Karen? You were the one who handed me her urn."

That should be what I say to you!

"So you think I just opened the gate and walked into your house?"

"Well, why not?" Piaget laughed. "I usually don’t lock my doors because the security in this area is excellent; the police chief lives right across the street.

You are my friend, and although we’ve only met once, I consider you my friend. So it’s quite normal for a friend to walk into my house and make themselves a cup of coffee, right?

This means, Karen, that you see me as a true friend and don’t feel the need to adhere to formalities, don’t you think?"

"Piaget."

"Yes?"

"I must remind you, it was indeed Linda who opened the door for me, and it was Linda who made the coffee. Then she went upstairs to wake you from your nap."

"Are you crazy?"

Piaget looked carefully into Karen's eyes, asking with concern, "Have you encountered something recently that has unsettled you?"

"Yes, it’s about you."

"Let’s sit down and talk," Piaget said as he took a seat and reached for a pastry, taking a bite.

Karen also sat down, glancing at the Pekingese, who was lying on the couch, while the golden retriever was outside in the yard, happily chasing butterflies.

Karen swore he would never take that silly dog out again.

Karen spoke up, "Your wife has already left."

"I know that."

"But Mrs. Seymour next door said she received an apple pie personally delivered to her by your wife yesterday morning."

"That’s impossible!"

"It’s true, and I just saw Linda."

"You all must be crazy. Linda is gone; I held her ashes in my hands and buried her."

Piaget took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Karen, who accepted.

Then,

After a moment of smoke swirling,

Piaget suddenly grabbed his hair hard and smiled, saying:

"To be honest, I feel a bit crazy too; because these days, I have this feeling that Linda hasn't left but has been staying by my side, taking care of me. I think it might just be that I'm used to her presence, and at the same time, I enjoy this feeling."

"Do you mind if I go upstairs to take a look?" Karen asked.

"Of course not, come on, let me show you around."

Piaget led Karen up the stairs.

In fact, true wealth is not only reflected in the price of a house; many times, it is embodied in the decoration.