บท 246: Chapter 246: The Sinister Church
The best outcome in situations like these is to expel the troublemaker, and having the imposing figure of John Wick take care of the eviction was indeed the right choice.
Frank, the old man, was the epitome of a slippery eel, the kind who would unashamedly betray his own children.
To think he could misuse his children's savings for winter right when the cold was about to set in.
Even under such circumstances, he had the audacity to attempt to make a spectacle of himself in front of a priest.
He was beyond redemption.
Thus, the decision was to kick him out.
So, York watched as the muscular John Wick entered the confessional, lifting the bewildered old man out as if he were a rag doll.
The disparity in their figures was stark, and the old man, sensing the power imbalance, complied quietly.
York thought this would be the end of it.
However, he was gravely mistaken.
Where did he go wrong? He underestimated the old man's thick skin.
After John Wick escorted the bewildered old man out, before York could even add the points for his daily tasks, the old man started cursing loudly outside the church.
And his ranting had a strategy to it, cleverly playing the victim while he cursed.
"I hoped to share my troubles with the priest of this church and sought his guidance and help!"
"But!!! He refused the conversation! My God! Is this the spokesperson of God? What right does he have to deny such a devout believer!"
"No! He has no right to refuse me! God should be everyone's God, not just someone's God!"
York's lips twitched, his mental three-dimensional diagram showing the old man now kneeling at the church's entrance, hands raised, crying out to the heavens, confusing the congregants and passersby.
"Father?"
John Wick offered, "Shall I...?"
"No need." York cut him off, glanced at Eileen, who was looking their way, and stood up.
"I'll handle this myself, as the root cause lies with me."
With that, York ignored the people in the church and walked into a small room on the right, pulling out a handgun from a hidden compartment.
Frank's method was cunning, but he was gravely mistaken, not realizing that including the nearby residents, everyone was a congregant of Pluto Church.
The connections and emotions involved were beyond his comprehension.
Clearly, this was an unfamiliar face who had appeared out of nowhere.
Possessing a hint of cleverness yet not quite smart enough, ending up more foolish instead.
So, when the old congregants saw York holding the gun, they exchanged looks but did nothing, as if they all knew something, then smiled and continued to pray.
"Father."
Only Eileen approached, trying to say something but was interrupted by York.
"Eileen, to deal with a scoundrel, you can't be soft. You either have to outdo them in their game or make them realize how serious the consequences can be."
York casually checked the handgun, walking out to meet the curious and expectant eyes of the congregants heading towards the front door.
"I can't let him spoil my mood, especially after just officiating a beautiful wedding."
Jokingly, there's no scoundrel he's afraid of, having reformed many before, like Aiven, who changed his life around under York's "physical adjustment," becoming obedient and hardworking with excellent reviews and service in the area.
Eileen and John Wick exchanged glances and hurriedly followed.
Meanwhile, some congregants silently joined, their eyes gleaming with anticipation for the show.
...
"My God! My God! Your spokesperson has rejected me!"
Frank continued his lament on the ground, though he kept a wary eye on his surroundings, ready to flee at any sign of trouble.
Observing his surroundings, Frank's vague unease grew stronger, diminishing his drunken stupor.
This made him feel increasingly cold, as if he had been left bare on the streets after a night of drinking, waking up to the morning chill.
The surrounding people, including those passing by the church's main entrance, looked at him with pity, lacking sympathy or understanding, as if seeing a pitiful soul.
They also occasionally looked towards the church, seemingly in anticipation.
"Think I'm pitiful? Anticipating? What are they anticipating? Something's wrong! This is not right!
Fk! What's going on?"
Frank hesitated, his voice of complaint dwindling, deciding to heed the advice popping up in his mind and make a run for it.
This place is too sinister! Everyone here is crazy!
Holding that thought, Frank began to rise, but instantly felt as if countless invisible hands were pressing down on him, immobilizing him.
Frank's pupils constricted, panic setting in as he struggled with all his might to stand.
To his horror, his efforts were futile, unable to move a muscle.
"Help!"
Frank chose to scream.
"Me!"
But as he uttered the last word, he realized a crowd had formed in front of him.
Leading them was the very priest he had cursed earlier.
Now sober, Frank realized the priest's imposing stature was genuinely intimidating.
The overwhelming presence was palpable.
Even among the crowd, he stood out, attracting special attention.
Most importantly, this frightening priest was holding a handgun, occasionally pointing it at him.
"Fk!"
Frank cursed himself silently, regretting not understanding the gravity of the situation sooner. If he didn't have a gun permit or concealed carry license, this could be deemed criminal...
"Oh." York smiled. "So you know about this, huh? Seems like you're sober now. Shame I have both permits, and even if I shot you, I'd find a way to avoid punishment."
As York spoke, glancing at the bystanders who showed no intention of helping Frank, he continued.
"And do you know who they are?"
Frank's eyes widened, recalling the earlier scene, his body trembling more.
"They're all old congregants here, my old acquaintances. You really had the guts to cause trouble here, tarnishing my reputation."
York used his telekinesis to pin Frank down, tapping the gun against his forehead.
The gun was unloaded, so no harm was done, just a scare.
"You're done!"
York declared. "Whether I kill you or not, just for what you said earlier, you're going to jail for a few years."
"I was wrong! Father!" Frank was terrified, almost wetting himself, more pained by the thought of not being able to drink and live freely than death itself.
"I shouldn't have spoken about you like that, I shouldn't have!"
Frank's eyes pleaded for mercy, wanting to grasp at the priest's feet, but remained immobile, only able to watch York and beg.
"I can pay! Yes, I can compensate!"
Yet, the expression on the priest's face made him fear even more.
"Realizing your mistake now? Don't you think it's too late?"
Frank was dumbfounded, unsure how to make amends for his actions, his earlier bravado and arrogance crumbling under the immense pressure.
Only now did he understand why the surrounding people looked at him the way they did.
Luckily, just as he couldn't hold back his urine any longer, the priest's tone shifted.
"Though that's the case, I am God's spokesperson, and as a priest, I can forgive your mistakes, but..."
York paused, tapping Frank's forehead with the gun again, calmly stating.
"You need to pay for your actions and mistakes. Are you willing to make amends?"
Hope flickered in Frank's eyes as he quickly responded, "I am willing! I'm willing to atone for my actions, Father!"
"Good!"
Having acted out the part sufficiently in front of the congregants, York smoothly put away the handgun, turning to Robert.
"Robert, are there any other chores around the church that need doing?"
Robert immediately understood and replied, "Father York, there's a lot of work in the backyard, the pigeon coop needs cleaning, and the annex requires a thorough cleanup as well."
York turned back to Frank, releasing the telekinetic hold, asking, "Did you hear that, Mr. Frank?"
"I heard it! Father!"
Frank hastily answered, "I heard it! Please let me take care of these tasks, I will do them earnestly as penance for my actions and mistakes!"
Apparently still a smart man, York smiled, signaling to Robert and John Wick to take this old man in for some 'reformation'.
John Wick nodded, stepping forward to once again pick up the now feeble-legged Frank and bring him back into the church.
Just taken out, and now being brought back in.
"Let's disperse, folks. Busy as usual." York tucked away the handgun, waving off the onlookers and familiar faces.
"Yes, Father York!"
"Okay, Father."
"We hope you don't mind the earlier incident, Father York. We all know the kind of person you are."
...
With various farewells and acknowledgments, but a common expression of having enjoyed the show, the crowd dispersed back to normalcy.
As before, so it remains.
Only Aiven withdrew his empathetic gaze, cautiously approaching the priest to hand over a package resembling a document folder, carefully saying.
"Father York, your mail for today."
York glanced at Aiven, who seemed as tense as if facing a wild beast, took the sealed document folder from his hand, and warmly smiled:
"How have you been doing lately, Aiven? I hope you haven't been bullying anyone?"
"No! Absolutely not!" Aiven declared righteously, straightening up: "Father! I'm not who I used to be!"
"Good! I've noticed you've been getting positive feedback recently!"
York patted the young man's shoulder, smiling, and walked away, leaving Aiven with words that moved him.
"Keep up the good work! I see everything, and if you need help, just say the word, everyone is willing to help you."
Aiven, watching the priest's departing figure, bowed slightly in gratitude.
"I will, Father York. Thank you for your guidance and teaching, which changed my life! I've found a new life and the right direction..."
York, with an unfading smile, didn't look back, just waved with the document folder in hand.
Eileen, who had followed all along, watched this scene thoughtfully.
She realized that although her priest seemed to do nothing and dumped all the management work on her, he seemed to have done many things she was unaware of.
At the same time, elsewhere, outbursts of anger erupted from a house.
"Who! Who stole my money?"
"This was for you! Fk! It was for our family's winter!"
"Karl! Was it you!"
A child's innocent voice responded.
"No! It wasn't me!"
Amidst the chaos, a faint voice said, "Fiona, Frank came by yesterday!"
"Damn it!!! It must have been him!"
"Frank! Fk!!"
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