The white-haired old man was none other than Old Brown, whom York had met earlier in the Tem Community.
Seeing Old Brown's weary face and eyes filled with endless sorrow, York seemed to understand something and replied in a steady voice.
"Yes, I just got back this morning."
Old Brown's forced smile remained as he sincerely asked, "Father, could you be a listener and hear me out? I have no one to talk to."
York clasped his hands together and calmly said, "Gladly."
...The main hall had an altar for prayer and mass, as well as an area for listeners and speakers. It was a semi-partitioned space for believers to speak privately with the priest, and there were also spiritual rooms or prayer rooms for believers to pray quietly, meditate, or seek spiritual guidance, and also for counseling and psychological support.
York led Old Brown to a dimly lit corner next to the main hall and sat down. Old Brown also sat down in front of York.
There was a partition between them, with a gap at the bottom that hid their faces, only showing their upper bodies. This allowed the speaker to express their thoughts without pressure.
York knew what a listener's duty was; remaining silent and letting the speaker begin was the best approach.
He probably already knew Old Brown's situation: his wife, with whom he had grown old, lay in a hospital bed, her life hanging by a thread, like a vegetable, kept alive daily by intravenous drips.
Besides this, Old Brown often complained that his body was decaying, and a phrase he often uttered was a self-mocking comment that he was like a rotting zombie... York closed his eyes, quietly waiting for Old Brown to speak.
For a moment, only the sound of their breathing filled the space.
After an unknown period, the elderly Old Brown seemed to have gathered his courage and spoke his first words with difficulty.
"Father, does Heaven truly exist?"
York opened his eyes. He didn't actually know if Heaven truly existed, even though he knew of the Hell where demons resided.
"If you believe Heaven exists, then it truly exists. If you don't believe it exists, then it doesn't. And I believe Heaven exists..."
Hearing this, Old Brown's lips silently curved upwards. For his wife, he, a man without faith, was willing to believe that Heaven truly existed.
After this exchange, the entire space fell silent again, but not long after, Old Brown's voice resumed. He looked at the partition, seemingly recalling, and said faintly, "Father, my wife passed away today."
York had already guessed this. He made the sign of the cross and calmly said, "Amen. The Lord's presence will welcome Ms. Judith."
Old Brown's wife was a true believer, and his words had a basis; wasn't Heaven created for such people? Old Brown blinked, and his eyes filled with grief as he thought of something.
"I also believe someone will take her to Heaven. Judith was so kind..."
At this, Old Brown recounted what had happened today.
"Yesterday when I went to see her, Judith seemed much clearer..."
"But I didn't realize that Judith was preparing to leave. She said the only thing she worried about was me not taking good care of myself..."
"In her final moments, she was still looking at me. Father, do you know, even lying in bed, she couldn't stop worrying about me..."
"..."
Hearing this, York could imagine the scene. He remained silent, continuing to listen to Old Brown's narration.
As Old Brown spoke, he gradually delved into past memories, talking about how he and his wife met, their courtship, their wedding, and their wonderful life... "How happy and joyful we were back then..."
At this point, York had become a true listener. Just as Old Brown said, he needed someone to talk to.
Finally, Old Brown brought up another unrelated matter, saying, "Father, thank you for listening. I feel much better. May I ask you a question?"
York remained calm and responded with a sound.
"Mm."
"Do you still remember those children who mocked God before?"
Old Brown's voice was very calm. York's eyes darkened. Of course, he remembered; it hadn't been that long. He always felt that group of people would face misfortune someday.
"I remember."
As soon as he said this, Old Brown's voice followed.
"I recently investigated what they've been doing. They belong to a gang called Vance. They do drugs, grow marijuana, extort innocent people, and sell drugs to others.
Do you think they are guilty?"
Hearing this, York thought for a moment and still didn't understand what Old Brown intended to do by investigating these people. After all, Old Brown had previously told him to ignore those scoundrels.
"Humans are God's creation. The Lord said to respect life and body, and to protect one's own and others' health. Therefore, the Lord's mercy and forgiveness will not rest upon them..."
York's words continued. What he didn't know was that Old Brown's eyes became resolute as he spoke.
"I understand, Father. Thank you for spending the day talking with an old man like me."
As Old Brown spoke, he seemed about to leave. York saw him stand up through the gap at the bottom.
"You're welcome, it's my duty. But Mr. Brown, could you tell me, what are you investigating these people for?"
Old Brown paused his movement of standing up. He said calmly, "Nothing. I just want to confirm if they are guilty."
After hearing this, York looked at the gap beneath the partition.
It was empty. Old Brown had already left.
He didn't move, recalling Old Brown's words.
Confirmed guilty, and then what?
A thought inexplicably surfaced in York's mind. According to common sense, confirming guilt usually leads to judgment; these two are interconnected.
"Old Brown is going to judge those scoundrels?" York was a little incredulous about his own guess.
After all, Old Brown was almost eighty years old. Even if he was a retired officer before, logically speaking, he shouldn't have the physical strength or ability to judge these young, strong lads.
An almost eighty-year-old man and a young lad—who is stronger, who is weaker, was already obvious.
How could the setting sun compare to the rising sun?
York immediately stood up, left the listener's position, and prepared to leave to ask Old Brown again.
There must be something he didn't know.
But as he was leaving, a thick envelope on the stool where Old Brown had sat caught his eye.
York stopped abruptly, sighing in his heart as he looked at the envelope. He picked it up, knowing what was inside without even opening it.
Given its thickness, the amount inside should be substantial.
What made him sigh was that a sentence was also written on the envelope. Old Brown seemed to have already guessed what he would do.
"Father, please don't stop me..."
Clutching the envelope, and recalling Old Brown's situation, York's eyes flickered with uncertainty.
Old Brown had promised Ms. Judith to live well, but Old Brown seemed determined to act against those scoundrels. Why was this?