Chapter 296: Chapter 296: Receiving the Sanitation Workers
"Do you know the rank of this robe I'm wearing?" York asked, glancing at Mirta and the wooden-faced man beside her, who appeared to be in his fifties or sixties.
At such close range, with his superhuman hearing, he could easily catch the man's mutterings.
"It seems the founder of the church here is indeed connected to the real world, or they wouldn't know about the robe. This matches our previous suspicions…"
York withdrew his gaze, hiding his thoughts for now, and continued with the routine of the ceremony.
The ceremony had become second nature to him; York could perform it smoothly with his eyes closed.
The ceremony allowed the Pluto Church to gather a large amount of faith energy once more, compensating for the previous night's consumption.
The considerable number of attendees added a significant boost in faith energy.
York estimated that this energy would sustain several transformations, each yielding two hundred points—amounting to over two thousand points of holy power. This was no small amount.
With over two thousand points of holy power and his magic, he could face enemies from the dark realms without fear.
But still, he sensed it wasn't enough.
He needed more, a lot more holy power, to settle things once and for all.
"May your words be a lamp that lights our path," York recited a prayer asking for divine revelation and guidance, honoring the Bible and calling upon God, then glanced around.
Only he could see the faith energy filling the air, absorbed by the statue of Jesus.
The ceremony continued.
Just then, York heard a notification in his ear.
The Pluto Church had upgraded.
[Requirements Met]
[Pluto Church has been upgraded to Level 3]
[Capable of storing three hundred points of holy power]
[…]
"That's three thousand already? So fast?"
Since yesterday, the count had nearly reached two thousand, and now it had suddenly surged to three thousand.
York, standing on the pulpit, was multitasking. While he led the ceremony, he was also surprised by the numbers on the virtual display.
He had estimated about a thousand people at the scene, but the church's data window clearly showed three thousand attendees.
[Number of followers: 3012]
And most importantly, this number was still growing, increasing second by second.
York glanced unintentionally at Chief Rake, unremarkable among the crowd below the platform.
"Is this guy's promotion this effective?"
Upon reflection, York thought the residents of Amara town must also have contributed significantly.
With a population of thousands, including friends and relatives, the numbers were impressive.
This seemed a bit exaggerated.
But it also indicated that the people of this world were waiting for someone or something that could save them.
Faith, as they say, is as effective as it is devout.
That was his viewpoint.
…
The routine part of the ceremony concluded.
York, like yesterday, distributed holy water, though this step didn't exist in the real world.
But things were different here.
This was also part of his strategy, as mentioned earlier. These people, connected by kin and acquaintances, would likely share among themselves.
As long as there is sharing, it never ends. It's like crafting a fishing net, starting from one point and spreading out to form a complete network.
Ultimately, as long as there are humans, there will be social interactions, and one connection leads to another.
Having the entire town promote for him was his goal.
Just after distributing the holy water, which used up one round of stored energy, Mirta approached him quietly: "Father York, they're here."
Mirta didn't specify who, but York understood her meaning, shook the water from his hand, and looked past her to the two distinctly different groups behind her.
One side appeared to be the sanitation workers, staring in disbelief at the holy water bottles in their hands.
Behind them were the excited followers who already knew the effects of the holy water.
"Are these your colleagues, Mirta?"
York looked towards the front, at the man who acknowledged his robe's configuration with a nod.
Mirta answered seriously, "Yes, Father York, he is Marcos, one of the leaders of the sanitation workers' group from the Free Nation."
"Belster city?"
York asked calmly, recalling the world's structure.
Now only five major nations were struggling to survive, barely maintaining their existence.
And his country, known as the Free Nation, had a different city structure compared to the real world.
The presence of demons had reduced the Free Nation's control to a conglomerate of three cities.
Each city was larger than those in the real world.
As such, the person in charge of leading a city's sanitation workers represented the Free Nation or the sanitation workers of this world.
"Yes, Father," Mirta replied. "Mr. Marcos is responsible for Belster City."
York nodded at Marcos, who seemed very sensible, and then calmly told Mirta.
"Then bring him to see me, I have some questions."
It was clear that this leader, Marcos, knew more than Mirta, who hadn't realized that the robe he wore was not that of a priest, but that of a bishop.
He had many questions: why the history had gaps, why the once thriving church had vanished instantly, and what had led God to abandon this world.
"Alright! Father."
Mirta nodded respectfully and walked towards Marcos.
They began talking, Marcos nodding from time to time.
York didn't care much for formality and slipped into a side passage, entering a room in the Pluto Church to wait for them.
With the church too crowded, some matters were inconvenient to discuss openly.
"Finally, it's starting."
York entered the room, stood at the window looking out at the churchgoers, part of his consciousness fixed on the holographic display showing Mirta leading Marcos, watching his deep breaths with a slight smile.
When Mirta brought Marcos to the door, York turned around.
Upon meeting, Mirta sensibly nodded and then left.
Leaving Marcos alone, before he could greet York, Marcos steadied his emotions and spoke first.
"York… Bishop York."
Not Father, but Bishop.
York watched him, smiling faintly.
"How did you know?"
Marcos replied respectfully: "Bishop York, I have books left from the church."
Hearing this, York knew he was right; this leader of the sanitation workers knew quite a bit.
"Would you mind sharing everything you know with me?"
York was direct, asking: "I need to understand the real history of this world."
Marcos nodded, seemingly well-prepared.
"Of course, I will tell you everything I know."
The conversation was straightforward, no frills or displays of power, just questions and answers.
All the doubts York had were clarified by Marcos.
The history of this world was simple.
There had once been an apocalypse, overrun with monsters, but it was thwarted by a saint who led everyone to victory.
His name was Saint Andrew.
Long years of peace and human greed killed him.
Power and desire led to a great civil war, and many nations began to attack the church.
Saint Andrew, unable to bear harming humans, or perhaps out of disappointment, didn't think he deserved to die on the cross like Jesus.
So, he went calmly to his death, nailed to an X-shaped cross.
Eventually, perhaps out of shame, the victors destroyed all records of that history.
That's why history had gaps.
Later, some remaining clergy tried to establish a new church but found they couldn't use holy power.
God had abandoned this world.
York listened to Marcos narrate the history without any expression.
After all, this history matched his guesses.
And he knew who this saint was—in his previous life and in the parallel real world, Saint Andrew was Saint Peter's brother and one of Jesus's first apostles.
This act alone could explain why God had abandoned this world.
"Couldn't bear to strike?"
York's expression was indifferent; a saint, one of God's apostles, not having power was impossible.
He wouldn't be so passive.
Anyone, no matter who wanted to harm him, would face his wrath.
After all, with Saint Andrew's reputation, walking on earth could just be an incarnation; even if he died, he could still resurrect at God's side.
But York was a living being; death for him meant true death.
He didn't believe he deserved resurrection by God.
So, after understanding the general history, York asked Marcos about the current authorities' situation in this world.
"They can only maintain normal social operations," Marcos sighed.
"Even the military has shrunk to just maintaining law and order."
York raised an eyebrow, listening to Marcos describe the status of the sanitation workers.
"You could say that the largest managers now are us sanitation workers; the current authorities are just assisting us."
As he spoke, Marcos seemed a bit self-deprecating: "Because we sanitation workers are the last line of defense."
That's pretty much like the real world's situation, each with their needs.
The church monopolizes the supernatural and dark worlds, maintaining the world's operation, while the official government monopolizes everything on the surface, maintaining public order and the flow of society and life.
York glanced at Marcos, realizing there wasn't much left to discuss.
His ultimate goal was just to complete his mission.
Of course, establishing the church was now within scope, but it was only a secondary concern.
As long as he completed his mission, anything was acceptable, for he wouldn't stay in this world for long.
Ultimately, this world still felt very foreign to him.
Thinking this, York lost interest in asking further, his suspicions were nearly confirmed, and he had no interest in learning more.
"You can join the church, but I need to know, can you represent the will of all sanitation workers?"
York stood with his hands behind his back, turned to face the
window, waiting for the answer.
Marcos remembered the meetings with the other cities, took a deep breath, and nodded earnestly.
"I can."
Their ancestors, the sanitation workers, were the clergy who tried to establish the new church.
Joining the church now, aside from dealing with demons, carried the most important aspect—their families' will and their ancestors' hopes.
Behind every authentic sanitation worker was a simple mission:
"If one day someone can establish a true church, join and earnestly follow and guide that person,
Let the past not repeat itself…"
Marcos knelt on one knee, his tone serious:
"We are willing to follow your lead, willing to be the vanguard to implement your will…"
York smiled, his psychic power stirring.
Marcos felt an irresistible force explode under his knees, lifting him forcefully.
He looked up at the man before him, eyes narrowing, a tightness in his chest, but then a voice calmed him down.
"Your name is Marcos, right? Marcos, I agree."
York turned to face Marcos, stepped forward, and patted his shoulder gently.
"But before that, I need detailed information from you; I need to know what each sanitation worker has done."
Saying this, York withdrew his hand and walked towards the door.
"Don't try anything sneaky; I can tell. Oh, and also the forbidden areas, the data on the various nations."
Marcos bowed deeply, not offended by the blunt words but rather relieved:
"Yes, Bishop York."
He quickly found his role and position.
…
Not long after, York received a stack of documents from Marcos.
"Bishop York, everything you requested is here," Marcos said, watching the bishop having lunch, respectfully.
Before this, he had reached an agreement with everyone.
To implement the will of the bishop before them.
"Hmm."
York looked at Marcos and gestured towards the lunch on the table: "Marcos, care to join me?"
Marcos thought seriously for a moment but ultimately shook his head.
"Alright."
York shrugged, waving him off. Once Marcos left, he began to examine the documents before him.
History was as it was.
He needed to know the current number of sanitation workers and the distribution of the abandoned churches.
Upon seeing the numbers, York fell silent.
"Belster City, including Mirta, only has seventy-three sanitation workers left?"
Flipping through the sanitation workers' records, York sighed.
These sanitation workers faced the demons with human wave tactics, a sacrificial approach.
If a solution couldn't be found, they would use minimization tactics, moving people to the safest places.
Until today, a major nation was reduced to three territories, with the outside fallen into no-man's lands, ultimately turning into forbidden areas.
"No wonder, there's always a sense of despair among the people of this world."
York shook his head and continued flipping through the documents.
Noting down the locations of the abandoned churches.
"Recycling waste, starting with the nearest place to establish a new church, continue spreading the heat, and quickly gather the faith power of the entire country."
York stared at the map on the document, making a decision right away.
"Seventy-three sanitation workers, excluding the women who can only become nuns, a total of sixty-seven priests, and need to recruit more…"
Just as York made up his mind.
At this moment, the Free Nation, due to the actions of the sanitation workers' group and videos on the internet, had entered a state of turmoil.
The lights dispelling the darkness in Amara town were like a dagger piercing deeply into the hearts of everyone who saw the videos.
At this moment.
The whole world began to learn about the establishment of the church.
___________________
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