"Borrowing money? My child, you haven't even paid back the money you borrowed last time..."
"...!"
"You can't even satisfy the curiosity of an old man who's about to die of old age..."
"...!"
"My child, who was it that shielded you from the interrogations of those bishops?"
"..."
As soon as borrowing money was mentioned, a string of words suddenly rang out in the car, leaving York stunned. Hearing the tone that suggested the other party was going to continue, he couldn't help but suck in a breath and quickly cut him off.
"Stop! Old man, I surrender, I give up. I just wanted to borrow some money for the cleanup; is all this really necessary?"
These words echoed in a room far across the horizon, and the old man's eyes crinkled with laughter.
This brought a hint of a smile to the eyes of the middle-aged man waiting by the bedside, who was dressed in a simple priest's robe. Every time the Pope contacted that child, it was a relatively pleasant time for him.
"Good boy, tell me about what happened last night. If I'm happy, I might even lend you some."
Hearing this, York had no choice but to tell the truth.
In fact, borrowing money was more like a tacit understanding between him and the old man, a code word for cleaning up his messes. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to live so freely until now.
If he still wanted to stay in this country, he probably really did need The Church to help clean up the mess from last night. The first explosion was one thing, but the second one was indeed a bit much, destroying a full third of the sixth, seventh, and eighth floors of that building.
According to his mindset from his past life, this was a very serious major incident, something that could draw the attention of an entire nation.
But this parallel world wasn't the ordinary world of his past life; because of frequent supernatural events, such occurrences were somewhat common.
More importantly, The Church's penetration and power in this parallel world were greater than he had imagined.
At certain times, when it came to supernatural matters like exorcisms, official organizations would basically step aside, taking responsibility for dispersing crowds or handling the aftermath.
This situation was similar to something he had heard about: in Japan, their top-tier exorcists had enough power to make the entire police system serve them, dispersing residents of a large area for some reason, setting up checkpoints, and providing backup support for all situations.
That was why he liked being a priest; it wasn't just because it was easier to get points, but also for this kind of unbridled convenience. Otherwise, he would have become a national fugitive long ago.
"..."
"..."
"That's about it. There's a fellow who can take human form running around, playing some judgment game."
York thought of that puddle of black blood and continued.
"Although I drove it away and might have severely injured it, it's inevitable that it will come out again someday. I think The Church needs to take this matter seriously."
The old man listened with satisfaction. He looked at the middle-aged man beside him with a face full of pride, holding the receiver and tapping the phone handle, his childish nature fully on display.
"This is the child I personally appointed. Impressive, isn't he?"
The middle-aged man gave a helpless smile.
Seeing this, the old man's smile grew even brighter. He said into the receiver, "I'll have Gabriel pay more attention to this matter."
"Yeah."
York made a turn; The Church was just one more block past this intersection.
"Old man, is that all? Nothing else?"
The old man knew exactly what he meant and laughed.
"Since you were dealing with a demon, then The Church will naturally be responsible for all the cleanup work."
"Yeah."
The corners of York' mouth curled up. He had been waiting for those words. As long as the old man said that, he wouldn't have to do anything else. The contact with official organizations, compensation, gag orders, and so on—The Church would naturally have someone arrange it all.
Because of those words, York became more patient and continued chatting for a while, treating it as keeping a lonely old man company. It wasn't until he was about to arrive at The Church that he spoke his closing words.
"I'm almost there."
"Alright, time is always so fleeting. I should get up too..."
"..."
York' lip twitched. He tapped the red phone icon on the car's center console screen and hung up.
Compared to ordinary people, this old man's life was more comfortable than anyone's, traveling everywhere and enjoying the sights; anyone would be envious.
Conversely, the old man envied his life of fighting and killing.
Recalling their past interactions, a hint of a smile appeared in York' eyes. Even from the perspective of his past life, despite the old man's many titles, it didn't stop him from being a lovable old fellow.
With that thought, York turned at the second intersection and arrived directly at the street where The Church was located.
However, the scene before him made him reflexively raise an eyebrow. The Church entrance, which was usually quiet, was now crowded with a large group of people.
Moreover, the composition of this group was quite simple, with a feeling of families being brought along. Some men and women were huddled close together, some had toddlers running around everywhere, and there was even one with a girl who looked about half-grown... York instinctively lifted his foot off the accelerator, letting the car roll slowly. With one glance, he knew this group was the survivors from the building last night, mainly because he saw Officer Baker and his wife, Ms. Hardy, as well as Jeffrey... "Don't always be so lighthearted in front of the Father from now on."
Carrying a handbag and dressed simply, Ms. Hardy was lecturing Baker, but as she spoke, her tone began to shift.
"Fortunately, I come here often and knew Father Yorkes wasn't as simple as he appeared on the surface, otherwise..."
As she spoke, Ms. Hardy's eyes instantly turned red, and she gave the helpless-looking Baker a sharp slap.
"If you weren't here, what would Ross and I do?"
Baker's look of helplessness deepened. He knew that at a time like this, a man shouldn't say anything; just let his woman vent. Allowing his wife to hit him, Baker looked at Jeffrey beside him and whispered.
"Buddy, what kind of person do you think Father Yorkes really is, uh, or what's his status? After that huge scene last night."
Speaking of this, Baker reflexively recalled the people from last night and couldn't help but smack his lips,
"Tsk tsk, they're all at a level we usually don't have contact with."
Jeffrey didn't answer. He knew more than Baker and wasn't actually that surprised by the warnings from last night. To maintain social stability, gag orders were definitely necessary.
Because in his view, ordinary people needed to be isolated from the supernatural; otherwise, the world would become even more dangerous. Those were the exact words of that officer, and he found them quite reasonable.
After all, many people didn't necessarily understand this world, and some even played around with those death-defying supernatural livestreams. Like a so-called exorcism livestream he had seen before, it was riddled with errors; he'd have to mention it to the Father eventually.
The events of last night had made him increasingly respect this priest who dared to face demons head-on and acted with such extraordinary ferocity.
"Father Yorkes is here!"
Just as Jeffrey thought of this, the shout from Baker's wife beside him interrupted his train of thought. He instinctively turned his head and saw the priest he had decided to get closer to, carrying a case and a backpack, walking over from the right.