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5.56% Exorcist in America / Chapter 21: Chapter 21: Selling the Goods (Edited)

Chương 21: Chapter 21: Selling the Goods (Edited)

"Goodbye, my dear priest!"

"If you won't tell me which church you belong to, I will find it myself."

"I will find you..."

"..."

The fragrance remains, but the owner of the voice is no longer present.

In the entire Ford Raptor, only York is left. By now, he has already dressed, his expression serene, though the marks on his neck seem to tell a story.

Ah, all of this is so wonderful.

But as a priest who performs exorcisms, his mental strength is formidable. The next second, York forcibly gathers his thoughts, and while marveling at the American style, he closes his eyes and makes the sign of the cross.

"Lord! I know I have sinned! I will confess! If You can forgive me, I will drive out more demons in Your name, spread Your glorious light over this land, and make more people aware of Your greatness..."

"Amen!!"

"..."

After confessing, York feels much better. When he opens his eyes again, they are clearer.

He glances at the rearview mirror, takes a deep breath of the lingering scent, and then steps on the gas, driving away.

The matter is resolved, and it's time for him to return.

Under someone's gaze, the Ford Raptor quickly departs.

This time, the journey home is uneventful, and York quickly leaves the Appalachian Mountains.

Driving into a city in the dead of night, he begins to manage the points he has earned.

Muttering to himself, a virtual window appears out of nowhere. While driving, York looks at his personal panel, pondering.

[York]

[Race: Human]

[Occupation: Priest, Professor of Pharmacology, Doctor…] [All-around Physique: 24/24, (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Life: 106.5/106.5 (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Spirit: 83/83 (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Magic: 132/132 (Note: Recovers one point of magic per minute)]

[Items: Basic Priest Robe, Defense 6, Durability: 6/10]

"..." After his previous upgrades, his life value increased to 106.5, but his magic was permanently deducted by two points due to the murderer incident.

Had it been the old York, he might have felt it was a loss, but with a bag full of valuable jewelry and the money promised by her and her friend, it doesn't seem like a loss.

This is a considerable amount of money, two million US dollars, one million each. This is why York believes they are very wealthy.

From the rich lady's demeanor, it seems that this money is just pocket change for them. It's just that the rich are on a different level.

Once this money is deposited, York won't have to worry about finances for a long time.

York, feeling relaxed, looks at the points available for allocation.

The total reward for the murderer incident was three points, plus one point for investigating the source of the incident, meaning he has four points to allocate.

"First, restore the two points deducted from magic, and then add the rest to life..."

Life is linked to survival, so York doesn't hesitate. He adds two points to magic to restore its original value, and then continues to add the remaining two points to life. [Point allocation successful] With the system's prompt, his personal panel changes.

[York]

[Race: Human]

[Occupation: Priest, Professor of Pharmacology, Doctor…] [All-around Physique: 24/24, (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Life: 108.5/108.5 (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Spirit: 83/83 (Note: The average for a normal person is 10)] [Magic: 134/134]

[Items: Basic Priest Robe, Defense 6, Durability: 6/10]

"..." Feeling the changes in his body, York is invigorated, sensing a strange energy spreading throughout his body.

This is the sensation of adding points to life, this strange energy keeps his body vibrant, and because of this, he rarely feels tired, even capable of staying awake for days due to his high stamina/spirit.

This synergy is what makes him a workaholic, and it's also why York is never short of bullets or holy water.

Always working, making bullets and holy water, and using the cross to pass time, who can keep up with that...

Feeling the changes within, York doesn't turn on the music this time but steps on the gas, driving the Ford Raptor towards home.

After all the back and forth, by the time he gets home, the sun will probably be rising.

Indeed, when York arrives at his home's garage, the sun has already risen above the horizon, the warm early sunlight illuminating the land and bringing light.

The early sun is comforting, and despite not having slept all night, York is still full of energy. He parks the car, takes everything from the back seat, and heads inside.

After entering the house, York first checks the crosses hanging around to ensure no one has entered, then heads to the basement.

He had prepared too much for this trip, feeling like he was using a cannon to kill ants, but York has no regrets. If he had to do it again, he would still bring as much, as it's his responsibility to his own life.

He silently unloads the remaining bullets from the two Winchester M1897s, maintains them, puts them back in their place, and organizes the rest of the items, placing them in their designated spots.

After dealing with all the equipment, York looks at the big bag next to him, the remnants of the murderer's possessions. Like dirty money, these unverified items are essentially tainted goods.

Legitimate channels definitely won't accept so much tainted goods, as they fear attracting trouble, after all, valuable items have their own hierarchy.

Simply put, poor people aren't supposed to own these things; only the wealthy have the power to possess them.

Of course, that's through legitimate channels. As for the illegitimate ones, they usually charge a hefty fee as the cost for taking on the consequences.

York narrows his eyes, quickly thinking of a place where he can unload the goods, where the fee rate is relatively reasonable.

Deciding to sell the goods first and then complete his daily tasks at the church, York, after a long absence, takes off his priest robe, puts on more casual clothes after a shower, grabs his backpack, and returns to the Ford Raptor to drive towards the city center.

...

...

City Center.

A Ford Raptor discreetly parks by the roadside.

York picks up the backpack from the passenger seat, observing the bustling scene around him, with people of all skin colors coming and going, feeling somewhat moved.

New York truly lives up to its reputation as one of the most bustling and international cities in the world, where he always sees tourists from various countries every time he visits.


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Chương 22: Chapter 22: John Wick (Edited)

Two stylishly dressed, attractive girls suddenly passed by his car.

"Qianqian! It's so lively here! I told you, it's nice to travel abroad once in a while. Staying at home all the time, I was worried you'd get depressed…"

"Um."

"..."

The two beauties conversed in Mandarin, causing York to pause and then chuckle as he watched the obviously Chinese pair walk by.

He couldn't return anymore. Upon arriving in this parallel world, he had tried dialing his old number and his parents' mobile numbers, but all were disconnected, indicating no trace of his former world existed here.

With that thought, York shook his head and got out of the car.

The sound of the car door closing inadvertently made the two girls look over.

Seeing this, York gave them a gentle smile and headed towards the building in front of him.

This left Chang Manman and Su Qian, who were visiting New York for the first time, utterly confused.

"Uh, Qianqian, that foreigner is so handsome. I feel like he was smiling at you. Do you think that foreigner has a bit of interest in you?"

"Don't talk nonsense! That was just a polite smile."

"Oh my, my Qianqian is blushing! Your face is all red!"

"Chang Manman!!! I'm going to tear your mouth apart!!"

"Hehe!!! Come at me!!"

"..."

Their laughter faded into the distance as York had already entered the building.

To the outside world, this building seemed like a clothing store that also tailored clothes. If someone actually came in to buy clothes, they indeed sold clothes. But York knew there was more behind this facade of selling apparel.

Because his guns and bullets were all custom-made here, even his bulletproof and slash-proof priest robe was tailored here.

Walking in, York ignored the greetings from the staff and headed straight for the bar at the back.

Behind the bar stood a man in a black suit, his features calm and lean.

Walter Martin, the owner of the building, was also a master gunsmith and an expert in bulletproof vests, making him an old acquaintance of York.

"Respected priest, what can I assist you with today?" Walter Martin's voice was steady yet hoarse.

York calmly placed the bag on the bar and unzipped it.

"Walter, help me deal with these things."

Walter Martin glanced inside the backpack, spotting the array of gold jewelry and valuable watches, then slightly tilted his head.

"Father, have you been on a killing spree?"

York's mouth twitched, "You're calling me a priest, what do you think?"

Hearing this, Walter Martin smiled and didn't ask further, taking the backpack from the bar.

"Father, please follow me."

Saying so, Walter Martin took the backpack and headed towards a door inside.

York nodded and followed.

When the door opened, and they walked through a corridor, a large space appeared before York.

Rows upon rows of brand-new firearms, bulletproof suits in various colors, and special ammunition filled the room.

The shelves were all against the walls, with a set of sofas, chairs, and a bar in the middle, giving off a technological vibe.

Every time York visited, he compared his own basement arsenal to this place, inevitably feeling uncomfortable.

Compared to this, his basement arsenal was junk!

"Father, please have a seat!"

Walter Martin, seeing York looking around, smiled. "I'll be back with an inventory list for you."

York waved his hand, not sitting on the sofa but walking towards the firearms, picking up a submachine gun.

Under the white walls and lighting, these firearms were like poison to a man's desire to purchase.

Walter Martin nodded, allowing York to handle his firearms before leaving.

"CZ Scorpion EVO 3 submachine gun, third generation, magazine capacity 30 rounds, effective range 250 meters..."

"M4 Super 90 shotgun, 12-gauge, capacity 7 rounds, rate of fire: 3.62 rounds per second..."

York, familiar with the mechanics, clicked and clacked a few times, returning it to its place, unable to resist picking up another gun.

"TTI Sig Sauer_MPX carbine, equipped with a Trijicon Mro scope and TLR-8 laser indicator, extended base increases magazine capacity to 41 rounds..."

"If sanctified and enchanted, these 41 rounds could instantly shred the demon Basheeba."

Considering Basheeba as a new measurement unit, York indeed considered purchasing, but remembering his home's basement arsenal, he reluctantly put the carbine back.

No use for them yet, his basement arsenal was already too full. These firearms were intended for exorcism, but traditional methods were enough for him.

"No battlefield..."

York felt a pang of regret. Since arriving in this parallel world, he had always dreamed of one day wielding a flamethrower in one hand and a rocket launcher in the other to powerfully exorcise demons or whatever else stood before him.

Unfortunately, that day hadn't come yet.

However, York always felt that day would come, and all his efforts and practice wouldn't go to waste.

With this thought, York picked up a few more guns to examine. At that moment, Walter Martin finished inventorying the backpack's contents and came out with a list.

"Father, the inventory is complete. Here's the list of items."

York glanced at him, placing the Remington Model 12 double-barreled shotgun back in its place, and took the list from Walter Martin's hand.

The list itemized the goods along with their prices.

There were hundreds of items listed. Just a glance made York's eyes blur, so he directly looked at the total on the last page.

"After deducting a 10% handling fee, you will receive 1.73 million US dollars, Father. How does that sound to you?"

"Fine." York folded the list and put it in his pocket.

"Transfer it to my account."

Walter Martin smiled and bowed respectfully.

"Of course, Father."

York turned to leave but hadn't gone far when he heard Walter Martin's voice behind him.

"Father, have you heard about Mr. John coming out of retirement?"

"John?" York paused, turning back to look at the quietly standing Walter Martin.

Walter Martin nodded, revealing a name.

"John Wick! The Bear Gang is looking for him."

York's eyebrows raised slightly, thinking of the man who often came to his church for prayers and confession.

And before that, the man had brought his wife, ending up alone with just a dog.

"I don't know." York responded indifferently, turning back to continue walking.

"What does that have to do with me? I'm just a priest."

Walter Martin watched York's receding figure, offering his reminder.

"Father, it's said that you helped Mr. John overcome his wife's death. I hope you can be prepared."

A calm voice echoed, resonant and clear.

"Let them come."


SUY NGHĨ CỦA NGƯỜI SÁNG TẠO
INIT INIT

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