13 Mink Street

Chapter 12 The Devil's Art

"Royal nobles, luxurious, noble, and generous... the Golden Coffin."

"Elegant, reserved, calm, wise, wise, and calm... the Breeze Coffin."

In the living room,

Karen was sitting on a small sofa, flipping through the family's "coffin catalog."

The two most expensive coffins in the catalog were listed earlier, their prices linked by adjectives one after another. They were priced at 2.25 million rubles and 2.5 million rubles, respectively.

Why were the Breeze Coffins more expensive than the Golden Coffins? Perhaps this was the price of "elegance."

Uncle Mason had told him that if the listed prices in the catalog were reduced by five times, they would represent the purchase cost. Even so, 450,000 rubles and 500,000 rubles respectively were still a significant sum.

If Karen remembered correctly, 500,000 rubles would be enough to buy a three-bedroom apartment in a good downtown area.

Alas, in the world of the truly wealthy, a coffin truly is worth a house.

"Coffee."

"Thank you, Auntie."

Aunt Winnie placed the coffee on the coffee table and sat on the small sofa across from him.

"Have you had a free day these days?" Aunt Winnie asked.

"Yeah." Karen nodded. Mina and the others had to go to school, but he didn't, so he had been in charge of cooking these days, which had actually refreshed his family's appreciation for food.

The day before yesterday, he had specially made a "boiled beef" meal. The family actually tolerated spicy food quite well, and Uncle Mason, in particular, enjoyed it so much. But the next day, Uncle Mason was walking with a limp.

His hemorrhoids had flared up.

Besides cooking, there wasn't much else he could do.

Although Grandpa hadn't helped him get his school status reinstated, he had gotten him a set of high school textbooks and tutoring books.

Aside from history books, which Karen would occasionally flip through, the rest of the books were of little value to him.

"I think things will be busy soon. Two more residents at the Huashuiwan Nursing Home are feeling unwell, and there are several critically ill patients at two nearby hospitals we partner with.

There's also a believer at the church who's dying at home.

I'll recommend your counseling services to their families when the time comes."

"Thank you, Auntie."

"You're working for your own company, so why bother saying thank you? Have your coffee. I added sugar."

"Okay."

Karen clenched his left hand slightly.

Even though the coffee was placed to his left, he leaned over with his right hand, picked it up, and took a sip.

Just then, the phone rang.

Aunt Winnie stood up to answer the phone:

"Hello... Um... Um... Got it."

"Click."

The sound of the phone being hung up was a bit heavy,

Followed by Aunt Winnie's even louder cry:

"Mason, Mason!"

Uncle Mason, who had been upstairs sipping tea and reading the financial newspaper, immediately dropped everything and trudged down the stairs, putting on his coat.

Aunt Winnie said, "The stage at the Crown Ballroom collapsed. There were a lot of casualties."

"Oh, the Crown Ballroom," Mason nodded immediately.

"Where's the Crown Ballroom?" Aunt Mary's voice came from the stairs.

Mason immediately asked, puzzled. "Yes, where's the Crown Ballroom?"

"I know, Mr. Mason. It's an old ballroom on Hill Street," Ron replied.

Earlier, he and Paul had been basking in the sun on a chair in the garden. When they had nothing to do, they often spent entire days relaxing.

But that's just the way it is in this business. Even if you know there's no work, you still have to reserve staff and other workers. After all, it's easier to find waiters than body movers when something unexpected happens.

You can't just ask the neighbors next door to come over and help, right?

Aunt Mary hasn't paid Mrs. Mark for the money she paid for her last complaint. Not only did she not pay, she even had an argument with them.

"Oh, it's on Hill Street." Uncle Mason turned and looked at Aunt Mary, who was standing at the top of the stairs. "Dear, get ready too. I'll try to take the guests back directly, if there are any."

"Okay, dear," Aunt Mary nodded.

Karen, sitting on the sofa next to him, was amused by this scene. If you didn't know better, you might think they were running the ambulance and needed an emergency response.

But that's what business networking is all about. Not only do the family have connections in places like hospitals and nursing homes, but they also have "spies" in many other places. If something like this happens, someone will notify them.

That's how business is done. You have to be proactive.

"A lot of casualties, huh?" Mason looked at Karen. "Karen, you come along too, we'll have an extra hand."

"Okay, Uncle."

Uncle Mason got into the driver's seat. Karen, Paul, and Ron folded the stretcher and placed it in the car, then grabbed the body bag and other items before climbing in.

Before the hearse started, Aunt Winnie tossed a stack of brochures from the Emerles Bereavement Care Company through the window.

"Let's go!"

Mason gave his sister and wife a resolute look, like a general heading off to battle.

Aunt Winnie and Aunt Mary also had serious expressions, eagerly anticipating the general's triumphant return.

...

The car was driving very fast.

Karen had seen Uncle Mason run two red lights in a row. Fortunately, there were no cameras taking pictures. Unless he was unlucky enough to have a police officer standing nearby, nothing would happen.

Of course, a car accident was another matter.

"Would a stage collapse be that serious?" Karen asked curiously.

Ron was about to answer when Uncle Mason, who was driving, spoke first:

"The Crown Ballroom has its own unique stage, a reinforced glass stage suspended nearly five meters high. Dancers in skirts and miniskirts dance on it, and from below, you can look up and enjoy the view.

Of course, many guests choose to pay extra for the thrill of dancing in the air.

So, if the stage collapsed, with people dancing above or below, it could easily have dire consequences."

Ron agreed, "Yes, the price for a dance with a dancer there is 5 rubles, and dancing on the glass is 50 rubles. It's really too expensive."

Uncle Mason said, "Money is secondary. The main thing is that the Crown Ballroom is in disrepair. I don't dare go up there. I'm really afraid I'll be in one of those accidents someday.

I've seen so many tragic deaths back home."

"Does Uncle go there often?" Karen asked.

"I loved going there when I was young, but I haven't been there much since I married your aunt. A few years ago, I went a couple of times when I visited my family in Luojia City and met up with some old friends.

After I returned home, I haven't been there once, and I don't keep in touch with those old friends anymore."

It's not that my friends are partial to the rich or poor, but it's simply because Uncle Mason used to be a somewhat successful financial professional, while he's now the manager of the family company. While he has friends and connections, they're completely different circles.

You can't just:

"Hey, friend;

Knowing your loved one's passing is heartbreaking, why don't you come dance with me?"

Soon,

Hill Street arrived.

Uncle Mason continued to press the accelerator, then turned onto a narrow lane barely wide enough for one car, weaving through traffic a bit, quickly making his way from Front Street to Middle Street.

After exiting the alley, he turned right and stopped. It was obvious that Uncle Mason was very familiar with the area.

The building ahead had signs for a movie theater, a gym, and so on, but the largest one, still gleaming, was the Crown Ballroom!

Hoo, we're there.

By then, a crowd had gathered on the streetside at the entrance. Many were covered in blood, their heads bruised, and some were crying and screaming in fear. It was quite noisy.

As Karen and the others exited the car, a police car suddenly pulled up beside them. A sheriff, wearing a khaki windbreaker and smoking a pipe, sat in the passenger seat. He stared at the Emerles hearse in astonishment and exclaimed in shock:

"Damn it, Mason! How did you get here faster than the police and the ambulance?!"

Clearly, the sheriff knew Uncle Mason.

This wasn't surprising.

Besides nursing homes, hospitals, and churches, the funeral agency's next most stable clientele was the police department.

Having bodies brought to the police morgue was commonplace.

Uncle Mason explained, "Sheriff Duke, what a coincidence! We happened to be on Front Street."

"Huh?" Sheriff Duke was clearly unconvinced.

However, due to traffic congestion and the fact that a national football friendly match was being held at the Luojia City Gymnasium, a large number of police officers had been assigned to security, and it would take some time for additional officers to arrive.

"Come with me and help maintain order."

"Yes!"

Uncle Mason stopped, and Ron and Paul beside him followed suit. Karen was a bit slow, but she also straightened her chest.

The scene was somewhat comical, and Sergeant Duke couldn't help but laugh. But then he realized that he couldn't lose decorum in this situation. He turned and instructed the driving officer:

"Mick, turn on the sirens and clear the traffic ahead to get the ambulance in."

"Yes, Sergeant."

Ron and Paul pushed through the crowd. Sergeant Duke first glanced at the injured people on the roadside. They must have escaped from the ballroom after the stage collapsed. Although many of them were injured, they had escaped on their own, so the injuries shouldn't be serious. They were also applying simple bandages and stopping the bleeding. "Is anyone else in there?" Sheriff Duke asked.

"Is anyone else in there?" Uncle Mason pulled over a man in ballroom uniform.

"Yes... yes, yes."

"Come on, let's go in."

Sheriff Duke walked in first. As he climbed the stairs, he saw several seriously injured people being helped or carried out. Some had glass shards in their legs or abdomens, unable to walk on their own.

Uncle Mason gave up on the man with the glass shard in his leg and instead grasped the young man in hip-hop attire who had glass shards in his abdomen.

"Are you okay? Can you hold on?"

The young man, assuming it was a doctor, nodded immediately, "I don't think it's a big deal. I can hold on."

Uncle Mason's enthusiasm instantly faded, and he let go of his hand.

"Doctor?" the young man continued to call out to Uncle Mason.

"Sorry, I need to go inside to find the more seriously injured. They need me more right now!"

The young man nodded and said, "I understand. I understand."

Sheriff Duke led the Inmerles family further inside.

On the way, Sheriff Duke teased Mason, "Are you so impatient for someone to die?"

Uncle Mason replied, "It's the off-season right now."

"Oh, off-season."

"You guys can bust m*******a dealers and unlicensed brothels during the off-season, but we can't go killing people during the off-season, can we?"

"I'm warning you, if you find anyone seriously injured inside later, take them to the hospital first. If the ambulance isn't here yet, use your car. Don't... just take them back to your house before they're even dead."

"How could that be possible?"

As they spoke, they finally entered the backstage of the ballroom. There weren't many people left. Most had already left, but there were still more than a dozen inside.

The ground was littered with broken glass, both large and small.

After walking a few steps inside, I saw a man leaning against a booth.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered half his head had been chopped off.

Behind the booth, there was a large piece of glass, approximately three square meters in size.

A piece of glass this large, smashed directly into someone's head, would have been as easy as slicing a watermelon.

The scene behind the booth was even more appalling, with all sorts of colors scattered across it, like a sauce shop.

Uncle Mason hurried forward, then turned to look at Sheriff Duke and anxiously asked,

"Sheriff, come and see if this guy is dead!"

Sheriff Duke lunged forward and kicked Mason.

But, mindful of the broken glass on the ground, he pulled back mid-kick.

This showed that Uncle Mason and Sheriff Duke had a truly close relationship.

Three years ago, Sheriff Duke's mother passed away. The funeral was held at the Immeles' home, and the family confiscated the 1 ruble in funeral expenses.

Karen was unaware of this. After all, at the time, he was still a withdrawn teenager, with little knowledge of the family's business affairs and no need to inquire.

"Ron, get the body bag," Uncle Mason ordered.

"Okay."

Ron produced the body bag and began to put it on the unfortunate man, muttering as he did so:

"The opening fee for this seat is quite high. You're so unlucky."

Up front and above this place is the glass stage, offering the best vantage point for looking up.

Ron cleaned up quickly, undeterred by the tragic scene or anything else. This was professionalism, and it was also the reason Ron and Paul could have full days of paid rest and earn significantly higher salaries than ordinary workers.

Up ahead, a man was surrounded by several people.

He had several pieces of glass stuck in his body, and blood was constantly oozing from his mouth. He could barely speak, his eyes blinking.

Because his injuries were so severe, the people nearby, who didn't know if they were friends or just enthusiastic dance hall patrons, didn't dare to move him, fearing he would die if they weren't careful.

Uncle Mason immediately stepped forward, shook his hand, and said,

"Hold on, hold on, please hold on!"

He then shouted to Paul behind him,

"Stretcher, stretcher, quick!"

Paul, carrying the stretcher, immediately lowered it, but kept the wheels on.

Uncle Mason instructed those around him,

"Be careful, everyone help lift a little, steady him, and get him out on the stretcher first. The ambulance will be here soon. There's still hope for him, there's still hope!"

Everyone immediately began to help, following Mason's instructions.

Karen knew that Uncle Mason's enthusiasm stemmed from the fact that, barring a miracle, this man would likely be beyond saving.

However, Mason's decision was the right one. It was indeed the best thing for the injured man and would allow him to receive medical treatment more quickly.

Once the injured man was taken to the hospital and "passed away," Uncle Mason, having already made himself known, would be able to easily secure the funeral order in front of the grateful family.

Sheriff Duke watched from the sidelines, but he didn't bother Mason. He knew that, while Mason wanted the order, he wasn't the type to mess around.

Karen wanted to help, but the stretcher was so small that he couldn't intervene.

Just then, Karen heard Sheriff Duke exclaim, "Huh?"

Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw Sheriff Duke already in the center of the stage.

The Crown Ballroom's layout featured a large, three-stepped wooden stage in the center, with a glass stage above it.

After the glass stage crashed down, it also shattered several holes in the center of the stage below.

At this moment, Sheriff Duke was crouching next to one of the holes, reaching out to pull away some broken wood.

Karen approached and was immediately stunned.

Inside the hole lay a male corpse.

The corpse was completely naked, his hands symmetrically spread out at a 45-degree angle, palms facing up. Two nails were inserted into his middle fingers, securing them in a double-pointed position.

Also,

On the corpse's abdomen, right near his belly button, was a white flower. It was probably... plastic.

There were suture marks above and below his belly button, suggesting this wasn't a flower, but... a pot of flowers.

The pot was inside the corpse's stomach.

Furthermore, the corpse's face was heavily made up.

Lipstick marks extended exaggeratedly from the corners of his mouth, creating the illusion of a "smile."

On the corpse's chest lay a book with "Song of the Soul" written on the cover. This was the bible of the Berry Cult.

I remember Aunt Mary complaining about Mr. Mosang's children deliberately claiming he was a Berry Cultist to save money.

Berry Cult doctrine requires cremation after death, returning the body to nature. The more decorations or grand funerals are given, the more desecration is committed against nature and, by extension, the doctrine.

But the corpse on the stage before me had been altered and arranged in countless places.

Also, judging by the dark blue color of the skin, it must have been dead for quite some time, even though there were no obvious signs of decay.

But it's impossible that he was killed by the falling glass stage, and then someone around him stripped him of his clothes and arranged them like this?

Sheriff Duke's eyes were grim.

The incident at the dance hall was an accident, and if it were an accident, it wouldn't have been of much concern to him, a police officer. He should have just maintained order during the rescue. But this body was different.

Sheriff Duke took a puff from his cigarette and muttered to himself:

"If it weren't for this accident, this murder wouldn't have been discovered."

"I don't think... that's the case."

"Oh?"

Sheriff Duke turned and looked at the handsome young man standing beside him.

"What do you think?"

Karen pointed at the body in the hole and said:

"The murderer deliberately caused this accident to showcase his 'artwork.'"