The car, seemingly ordinary and unpretentious on the outside but filled with inner substance and luxury, slowly started up.
He had come alone, but he was returning with one more person.
Having a Deaconess assigned to him for the first time felt rather interesting to York.
Novice Sister Irene was like a blank sheet of paper, ready for him to paint with any color. He wondered if this was also the old man's intentional doing.
He was undoubtedly very satisfied with Ailin.
York leaned back, shifted into a comfortable position, and began to process the 0.5 attribute point he had gained today.
Without any hesitation, he continued to add it to Spirit to ensure it kept pace with his Mana.
[Attribute Point Added Successfully]
[Spirit increased from 131 to 131.5]
Hearing the notification, York closed his eyes to rest his mind. Although the feeling of 0.5 points was small, it wasn't non-existent.
"Ailin, let me know when we arrive."
Ailin stole a glance at the priest beside her.
"Yes, Father."
---
New York.
Pluto Church.
Unpretentious as it was, even when the priest was absent, there was a constant, endless stream of believers coming and going.
As some left, others arrived to take their places.
The first employee, Robert, was using a towel to wipe the floor-to-ceiling windows by the wall. As he watched the believers scattered among the pews, he felt a sense of pride and a deep satisfaction in his heart.
Having been on the job for several days, he had learned a few things and gotten to know some of the frequent believers.
Through conversation, he discovered that most of the believers had some connection to Father Yorkes.
For instance, Mrs. Mosang. He heard that her daughter, Sarah, had once been possessed by a demon, and Father Yorkes had personally saved her.
This made Mrs. Mosang extremely grateful; from what he had seen with his own eyes, the amount of money she dropped into the offering box was quite substantial.
There were also some seemingly new believers. Although they didn't seem willing to explain, Robert keenly noticed that when these well-dressed, fresh-faced, and tall believers spoke of Father Yorkes, their faces also bore expressions of gratitude.
Even though they didn't stay as long as the old believers, the intensity of their offerings was greater than anyone else's.
"It's probably just like Mrs. Mosang; Father Yorkes has done more good deeds," Robert said, a smile appearing on his face.
As someone who had been saved by Father Yorkes, he loved hearing stories about him and seeing other people's gratitude toward him.
No particular reason, other than it made him happy for the priest and put him in a good mood... "Goodbye, Robert," a voice sounded in his ear.
Robert quickly stopped his wiping motion and looked toward the source of the sound.
An elderly woman carrying a handbag was standing there, smiling at him.
She was an old believer who frequently came to pray and could sit there for a long time. She often complained to him that Father Yorkes didn't perform Mass or other activities she liked very often. Not only that, but he was always disappearing, making it impossible to find him.
He never knew how to respond, but in conversation, this Mrs. Aisha still highly approved of Father Yorkes. In her words, Father Yorkes was a priest she could trust.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Aisha," Robert smiled.
The old woman smiled back and walked slowly out of the church with her handbag.
After seeing her off, Robert resumed his wiping, working with incredible efficiency.
"Keep it up, Robert!"
He was determined to let the priest see a brand-new church when he returned!
An unknown amount of time passed.
A child's shout suddenly rang out.
"Daddy!"
"Daddy! We're here!"
"..."
Robert, who was almost finished wiping, instinctively looked over. Seeing his wife standing at the door and his children running toward him with excited expressions, a bright smile instantly broke across his face.
"Hey!"
Robert tossed the towel into the bucket below, scooped up his youngest and third daughters—one in each arm—and walked toward his wife.
It was because of Father Yorkes' salvation that his eldest and second daughters could go to school and their family could have a place to live.
"What good things did you make today?"
"Macaroni, sandwiches, and salad!"
"Wow, all my favorites!"
Listening to his youngest daughter's crisp voice, Robert smiled and walked up to his wife.
"Let's go eat outside."
Beth also had a smile on her face as she nodded and followed him outside, whispering.
"Father Yorkes isn't back yet?"
"No."
Robert shook his head and led them to the corner where they usually ate. He set his two daughters down and let them go play.
Hearing the answer, Beth silently set aside the portion Father Yorkes liked to eat, then laid out the lunch her husband enjoyed.
"It's okay, I can save Father Yorkes' portion to eat tonight."
Robert smiled, picked up the fork his wife handed him, and began to dig into the macaroni, eating in large mouthfuls.
The smile returned to Beth's face as she sat down across from her husband.
Like her husband, she was also grateful to Father Yorkes. Unfortunately, the priest hadn't been around much for the last day or two, making it difficult for her to express her gratitude.
Robert seemed to sense this; he reached out and patted his wife's hand before continuing to wolf down his food.
After a while, Robert, holding his lunchbox, looked at his two daughters laughing and playing under a large tree with his wife, his face full of happiness.
However, a girl standing by the main gate, hesitating whether to enter, caught his attention.
She had short hair and was dressed like a boy in a hoodie and simple jeans.
Robert quickly remembered that this hesitant girl was the same one who had cautiously asked him yesterday if the priest was in.
Beth also noticed the situation at the gate.
"Who is that child?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen her around lately, so she must be new. But she seems to have some problem that needs Father Yorkes' help."
Recalling yesterday's events, Robert put down his lunchbox and stood up to walk toward the gate.
"I'll go take a look."
..."I won't be called a psycho, will I?"
"But that dream was too real!"
"I have to believe in myself! In what I saw with my own eyes!"
Standing by the door, Bridget looked at the old, weathered church before her, her expression still full of hesitation.
As a self-proclaimed member of the trendy new generation, she shouldn't be doing this, as it was something her peers would mock.
She had felt the same way and had always firmly believed that the world was one of science. However, recent events had left her feeling strange and afraid.
The dreams she had every night were simply too real—so real that she couldn't distinguish between reality and the dream world. The murmurs that constantly rang in her ears also made her feel irritable and restless.