บท 240: Chapter 240: Vengeful Spirit
The destination was a corner outside Bangkok, specifically a village established around the city's outskirts, quite remote in location.
Driving there would take nearly an hour, so for this mission, York's mode of transport was a helicopter arranged by the Thai officials.
With the helicopter's direct speed, the travel time could be shortened to about fifteen minutes.
The buzzing noise by his ears was incessant, but York chose to selectively block out his hearing.
Through breath-holding experiments, he discovered he could freely control parts of his body, as if managing the valves responsible for tension and relaxation.
Ignoring the curious glances of the Thai military personnel beside him, York looked down from the helicopter.
As they flew out of the city, the landscape below was indeed desolate, a dark expanse as far as the eye could see.
"I need you to evacuate all the villagers and civilians from the area," York casually mentioned, eyeing the dark expanse below lit by sparse lights.
"Within a thirty-kilometer radius, no one is allowed near."
His words were in English, but the military personnel, arranged by the Thai officials, naturally understood.
Holding a classic M4A1, the curiosity in the soldier's eyes deepened.
Despite this, the soldier didn't forget his duty and nodded slightly, "Yes, Father."
York, with a calm demeanor, straightened up and closed his eyes to think ahead, mentally preparing for the battle, striving for a well-understood plan.
When he felt the helicopter begin to descend, he opened his eyes, a thoughtful glint in his gaze.
"We're here," the voice of the Thai military personnel reached his ears.
York looked down to see the helicopter landing at the edge of a small village.
The landing site was already surrounded by armed soldiers and monks on watch.
As he stepped out of the helicopter, everyone approached to greet him.
The Thai soldier who had followed him here nodded at his subordinates before turning to York with a serious question.
"Father, besides evacuation, do you have any other requests?"
York, carrying a backpack filled with holy bombs and two backpacks larger than mountaineering ones in each hand, walked towards the direction indicated by the monk, leaving only one word behind.
"No."
Behind him, a group of soldiers watched.
York didn't care, dragging ordinary people into a supernatural battle was truly the most irresponsible act.
The casualties caused by the Siam Paragon mall incident were a testament to this.
Demons inherently possess strong regenerative abilities. The creature John Wick faced was weaker than a demon, yet it could withstand bullet impacts with its defense.
Only holy power could ignore this, directly causing substantial critical damage. Conventional military weapons were akin to tickling to demons, although they could still feel pain.
Of course, strategic-level weapons like missiles or nuclear bombs were a different story. But with specialists in handling supernatural affairs present, why resort to such strategic weapons?
"That house over there, Father York."
As he thought this, a monk accompanying Father Matty pointed to a house a dozen meters ahead, still lit.
York shelved all thoughts and looked ahead. Through the real-time 3D map in his mind, he could see the family targeted by the cult gathered in the living room.
But there were only five people.
"The mother who joined the Satanic church is buried there," the monk pointed to an open space outside the house.
York glanced over, noting several mounds of earth. Beyond the immediate fifty meters was desolation, prompting him to remark,
"What a great filming location."
The monk looked puzzled.
York didn't bother to explain and simply stepped forward.
"Let's go."
As they approached,
York's focus settled on the smallest humanoid figure in his perception.
Indeed, the child was different. His body was immobile, surrounded by darkness as if cloaked in a layer of new black garments.
"So be it, let's stick to the plan."
Before even reaching the house, York's eyes narrowed.
With the help of the real-time 3D map, his psychic energy surged inside the house, striking each person in the neck in the living room, knocking them unconscious.
Seeing each figure slump onto the table, York then led the monk inside.
The house was simply structured, with a living room and kitchen combined into a large area, including a self-dug well in the back.
According to the information he had, the grandmother had been mysteriously drowned in that well.
His gaze shifted again to the family's members, now unconscious at the dining table in the living room.
This made the monk tense up, hand instinctively going to the knight's sword at his side.
However, a single sentence from York eased his tension.
"Don't worry, leave the fourth child named Ilan for me," York said calmly, eyeing the smallest child.
"Move everyone else."
The monk blinked, looking between York and the unconscious figures in the living room. Though puzzled, he nodded in agreement.
"Yes, Father York."
[21:12]
"Only two hours left." York watched as the monk, with the help of Thai military personnel, moved everyone out, then turned his attention to Ilan, now moved from the table to the floor.
The area was now cleared, leaving only him and the child.
"But there's something else."
York turned towards the wheelchair beside the sofa. A séance circle instantly formed under his feet, spinning slowly, emitting a deep red glow.
The next moment, York stepped into another dimension.
The surroundings changed entirely, the standing living room became dark and damp, filled with a misty fog.
And he saw an old woman sitting in the wheelchair, her body white, face swollen and blackened to the point her features were indiscernible, oozing fluid, hands curled into claw-like grips.
The scene was terrifying.
The ominous aura emanating from her affected the surrounding void, revealing streams of mist.
Such heavy resentment, was it because she was drowned?
York squinted, staring at the vengeful spirit on the wheelchair.
This was no longer a simple spirit but a vengeful spirit capable of affecting reality.
"Yet, it seems you still carry a certain obsession?"
York observed the passive vengeful spirit, its black eyes fixed on Ilan lying on the floor. He pulled out a holy grenade from his belt.
"If you have something you wish to tell me before you go, I don't mind granting you a quick end."
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