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61.63% Exorcist of the American Nightmares / Chapter 187: Chapter 187: Success

Kapitel 187: Chapter 187: Success

Unfortunately...

Even though he found it hard to watch, York understood that all this was an illusion.

Centuries had passed, and whatever he wanted to do was in vain.

All he could do was take on the pain of the female corpse, Janet Laurie, and let her pass away peacefully.

The temperature was rising.

The third memory fragment burst into crystals and dissipated into the void.

"Phew!"

York exhaled, feeling pain from burns inside out due to the fire.

This breath was a smoky haze.

"Is this what it feels like to walk through a sea of fire?"

As he endured the heat of the flames, York's consciousness was immersed in his personal panel.

Although it was an illusion, it was a form of reality, at least an imitation.

[Health 129/135.5]

"I lost about six points, as expected."

York wasn't surprised; he was already heading towards being more than human.

So much so that even when being roasted by fire, he only felt a slight warmth on his skin.

"There's a feeling of burning, but not much. Also, my recovery is stronger than before..."

York observed his health fluctuating and gained some understanding. He could feel his body constantly experiencing hot and cold extremes.

Damage and recovery were in opposition.

"Continue!"

York's right hand remained on the female corpse's forehead. Although his vision was covered by memory fragments, the touch from his right hand told him that Janet Laurie was slowly changing.

Initially cold and hard, but after he repeatedly took her pain upon himself, it started to turn warm and soft.

This was the natural touch of a living person.

"It seems to be effective."

York exhaled lightly and continued to click on the next memory fragment.

Pain wasn't just physical; emotional pain, though not physically tangible, was hundreds of times more painful than physical pain.

"Fear."

York watched a slowly shattering memory fragment where Janet Laurie, lonely and unsupported, was facing accusations from her neighbors.

"Loneliness."

Janet Laurie, living alone, rejected advances from the men around her.

"Helplessness."

Janet Laurie started trying to live on her own, enduring the mundane routine.

"Sorrow."

Janet Laurie's father died accidentally, leaving her all alone.

Memory fragments burst one after the other.

The surrounding, glowing glass pieces contained all of Janet Laurie's memories.

York kept clicking, like an invisible observer, silently witnessing a life from end to beginning, taking everything upon himself.

Physical pain, emotional scars, joys, and sorrows.

Unnoticed by York, the female corpse's expression became more vivid, softer, and lifelike.

Her constantly open eyes and temples showed traces of tears at some point, leaving a puddle underneath.

"Happiness."

"Joy."

"Innocence."

Surrounded by fragments, York stared at the last memory fragment, silent.

It showed a couple, happily surrounding a cradle, looking at the child inside.

"It's over."

York sighed, believing everything that happened in this illusionary space.

Only by believing in the illusion's events could there be a corresponding reaction in reality.

Like those corpses, they believed in everything that happened in the illusion, which is why bleeding incidents occurred in reality.

As he accepted and believed in what happened in the illusionary space, York heard the completion prompt of the task.

[...] [Task Requirement: Grant peace to the unnamed female corpse (Completed)]

[Reward: +15 attribute points (Issued)]

"Combat tasks are indeed the best."

Looking at the myriad of fragments, York waved his hand, clearing them away. The entire space cracked and burst, revealing the real dissection room.

Compared to the previous, surreal dissection room, this was so much more real.

York looked down at the dissecting table in front of him.

Janet Laurie's body had long disappeared, leaving only a puddle of water and some residual ashes in human shape.

Of course, there was also a faint, lingering pain.

This was the consequence of believing in the illusion, but in reality, without continuous pain, his recovery power instantly overcame the damage, slowly restoring him.

The next second, his health was fully restored.

Now York was only mentally and emotionally tired, nothing else.

"It's easy, but tiring. Without proper analysis and this non-human physique, the task would have failed long ago."

York looked at the human-shaped ashes and the puddle of water, shook his head, then took out a bottle of holy water from his backpack and poured out the contents.

For a moment, the floor was covered with a glowing liquid.

Once the bottle was empty, York waved his hand again, his robust psychic energy transforming into telekinesis, lifting the ashes on the dissecting table into the bottle.

When there was no trace left on the table, and the bottle was full, York carefully placed the bottle back in its original spot and left the dissection room.

"Ah, another prayer to add."

......

Outside the building.

Police cars were everywhere.

Everyone waited quietly for the result inside.

"Jeffrey, have you ever experienced such quietness?"

Beck glanced at Jeffrey and continued.

"It's too quiet, isn't it? Do you think something happened to Father York?"

Jeffrey's right hand remained on his gun holster. Hearing this, he looked back at the main entrance of the building, the vivid memory of the Jesse building emerging in his mind.

"Beck, you don't understand. I have faith in Father York. This supernatural event should be simple for him since he even exorcised demons that time."

"You seem to trust Father York more than anyone."

Beck was speechless, realizing over the years his partner had developed a mysterious worship of Father York.

"Don't you have faith in Father York?" Jeffrey replied calmly, not turning his head.

"Who's the one who always says to inform Father York whenever he encounters something he doesn't understand?"

Caught off guard, Beck looked towards the front door about ten steps away, his face showing a hint of embarrassment.

"Hey! I was just..."

Before he could finish, the sudden appearance of a figure stopped him mid-sentence.

A priest in a robe was seen calmly walking over.

Beck and Jeffrey, who had also turned their heads, exchanged a glance.

Years of tacit understanding brought the same thought to their minds.

That was fast.

___________________

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