Sea Burial
Harry could feel a slight tremor beneath his feet.
Silently, he stepped back a few paces, watching as one of the Blazing Sun Division agents pulled out his phone, clearly ready to call for backup. The other agent lifted his jacket, his hand already resting on the gun at his waist.
Old Jack, who had been proudly explaining the cremation process, glanced back at the deluxe furnace, clearly uncomfortable. His earlier confident explanations now felt like they weren't enough to gloss over what was happening.
He hurriedly stepped over to the furnace and opened a small hatch, pressing a button inside with force.
Immediately, the roar of flames intensified, filling the room with a low, vibrating hum.
Within less than a minute, the ominous thumping and the unsettling growls that had echoed from the furnace vanished entirely.
Old Jack turned around, flashing a strained grin. "Different people, different bodies. Some bones are tougher, harder to burn, so you've got to turn up the heat. It's completely normal."
"Right, of course. Got it," Harry nodded quickly.
Now he understood what turning up the heat really meant, and the purpose behind the deluxe cremation furnace.
He had once thought it was simply a more expensive option for those who could afford it, but now he realized the true cost of its construction—likely several times that of a regular furnace. The advanced equipment required to handle the heat must have driven up the price exponentially.
Considering the publicly listed fees, Harry realized it probably operated at a loss. But that wasn't important now.
In less than an hour, Old Jack shut off the furnace.
The process had been twice as fast as usual. When the furnace cooled and the remains were pushed out, there was only a small pile of fine, white ashes left. It was an exceptionally clean burn.
Old Jack, ever the professional, began gathering the remains. "See? High heat leaves no large bones behind. It's quick and easy. You know, I once had this huge, overweight guy…"
"Uh, Uncle Jack… maybe save that story for another time. We've got company…" Harry said, his expression tight as he gestured toward the Blazing Sun Division agents, who were now turning slightly green.
The smell in the air and Old Jack's cheerful recounting clearly weren't sitting well with them.
Old Jack gave them a sidelong glance but stopped talking.
He put his mask back on and continued gathering the remains, explaining in a softer tone. "Typically, even when we collect ashes into the urn, we don't gather every last bit. But with high heat, we're required to be thorough, making sure not a speck remains."
After cleaning the furnace meticulously, Old Jack pulled out a few packets of salt and a small bag of an unidentified substance from a nearby metal cabinet, mixing them into the ashes before sealing the urn.
Noticing Harry's confusion, Old Jack clarified. "It's part of the rules. Supposedly, it's to prevent people from using the ashes for... unusual purposes. Something about toxic flowers. Don't ask me the details, I don't know more than that."
"…?"
Harry was left bewildered, 'What on earth had happened in the past to create such a rule?'
With the urn properly sealed and a couple of talismans carefully pasted onto it, the two Blazing Sun Division agents finally closed their recording devices and signed off on the paperwork.
As they turned to leave, one of them pulled out his phone, making a call.
"Hello, is this Mrs. Bezos? Yes, this is David from the Serenenity Funeral Home. I wanted to ask if you've considered arranging a sea burial for your husband…"
"Yes, environmental benefits are one aspect. But no, no, you've misunderstood."
"While the overall cost for a sea burial can range from a few thousand to over ten thousand yuan, the government offers subsidies for this process. If you opt for a simpler ceremony, it could actually be free of charge."
"Subsidies range from 3,800 to 8,800 yuan, depending on the situation."
"Yes, a simple sea burial wouldn't cost anything. And yes, the subsidies are available."
After hanging up the phone with a polite smile, the agent let out a long breath and checked off a box on his clipboard. "Done. Everything's been taken care of."
Harry hesitated, glancing at the urn containing the ashes of the boss, feeling a mixture of pity and curiosity. Not only had the man died in an odd way, but now even his ashes were about to be scattered at sea.
Before he could ask, the agent—David—sensed the question and pointed to the ground.
"We don't talk about these things here. It's part of the rules."
Harry understood immediately. Once outside, he caught up with the agents and under the shade of a tree, David finally explained.
"Some years back, someone used cremated remains to plant flowers, but those flowers turned out to be toxic. Their pollen... well, it caused a lot of problems. We had to step in and deal with it."
He paused before continuing. "Then there was a case where a wife, grieving over her husband, had his remains compressed into a diamond. That didn't end well either."
"Now, the safest, cleanest option is a sea burial. It's the standard procedure."
"Got it. Thanks for clearing that up." Harry shook his hand, grateful for the explanation.
He decided not to ask what would happen if the family refused the sea burial. After all, it seemed like this was the safest outcome for everyone.
As Harry watched the agents leave, he stood under the grand entrance of the funeral home, deep in thought. No matter where you were, turning a person to ashes and scattering them was the safest way to handle things after death.
He still wanted to know why the boss's body had caused such a disturbance during cremation. But clearly, safety was the priority for everyone else. They followed the procedure to the letter, curious or not, because that was the rule.
Maybe not questioning the process was part of the rule too.
———
In the old district of Serene City, a man wearing rimless glasses parked his modest ten-thousand-yuan car, carrying a bag of groceries as he got out.
"Ah, Chandler, coming to see your dad again?"
"Yep, got off work early today, so I came to check on him. He doesn't want to move in with me, so I have to drop by often."
"Aunty, if you get the chance, please help me convince him. He's getting older, and climbing all these stairs every day isn't easy."
He pulled out some mangosteens and offered them to the elderly ladies sitting outside. They beamed with delight.
"These are expensive these days!"
"Oh, don't worry, we've been trying to talk to him. I think he's just afraid of not getting used to a new place. Doesn't want to trouble you…"
"My daughter doesn't even call me once in six months. You're here every few days. Such a good son."
Smiling warmly, the man chatted with the grannies for a bit.
"I'd better head up and cook for him, or he'll try to do it himself."
"Go on, go on," they waved him off.
He climbed up to the fourth floor, opened the double door, and saw his elderly father holding a rice cooker pot.
"Dad, take a rest. I'll cook. I just bought groceries."
His father glanced at the food and couldn't help but grumble. "These vegetables are expensive now. Lately, broccoli is cheaper…"
The man chuckled, not replying, and turned on the TV for his father, turning up the volume.
As the rice cooked, he donned an apron and started washing and chopping the vegetables.
In half an hour, he had a bowl of soup ready.
"Here, Dad. Drink some soup first. It helps with the humidity. The pork ribs need a bit more time."
Before long, three dishes and a soup were on the table, and they chatted as they ate.
"Your sister and brother are doing well now. Maybe they could help you find a better job?"
"No need. Older sister just got promoted, and my brother's busy with a new project. It's fine. I like driving; it keeps me close to home," the man replied with a smile, seemingly unbothered.
But hearing this, the old man's heart ached.
Years ago, they'd spent most of their savings on his other two children, and when his youngest needed help for school, he'd gambled away what little remained.
After his wife had fallen ill, the youngest had stayed behind to take care of them, while the others moved away to pursue their careers. Now, months would pass without a word from them, but his youngest was always here, driving his car to make a living and looking after his father.
The old man didn't dwell on it further, instead shifting the conversation to work.
Yet, as they talked, something felt off to him.
"How's your work going?"
"Not bad. There's just this one project that's been tough."
"Oh? What project?"
"The one at the funeral home. It was on hold for a year but looks like it might pick up again. I've been managing it closely since a lot of things went wrong before, and I've had to step in."
"You've got a lot on your plate."
"Yeah, but the hardest part is getting in without drawing attention from the other side. The seeds I planted before are gone, so I'm sure someone's getting close to where I need to be."