In the case of a paranormal event, if the person involved isn't dead, tracing the cause is relatively simple, and there might even be a chance of triggering a random task.
However, since Frank Lynch unfortunately died, York can only proceed with his original plan: to visit a certain place. While seeing a friend, he would also deliver the spiritual powder he had come across by chance.
Soon, York arrived at his destination: a 24-hour convenience store located in Stanford.
After glancing at the seemingly empty convenience store due to the lack of people around, York casually parked his car, and stopped the recording on his phone.
It was unusually quiet in the back seat.
"A three-point spirit attachment can only last for three hours?"
York looked back at the back seat, ignoring the Annabelle doll and other mediums for evil spirits, and took the Bluetooth speaker back.
After about three hours of playing, York could no longer sense any divine energy from this Bluetooth speaker.
"So this form of consumption means one spirit power equals one hour of effect?"
With this experimental result, York's look at the Annabelle doll became gentler.
"Stay put for me, I'll be counting on you guys from now on."
Content, York picked up the backpack from the passenger seat, spoke to the empty back seat, and then got out of the car.
[1:29]
York, carrying a backpack bigger than a hiking one, entered the 24-hour convenience store like a traveler.
The store looked typical, with a wide array of goods in the front and a cash register beside, manned by a dark-skinned middle-aged man. He nodded respectfully at York.
"Father York, it's been a while since you've been here."
"Yeah."
York responded casually, carrying his backpack, which looked just like a normal bag on his shoulder, and walked toward the back wall.
"Todd, open the door for me."
"Right away!"
Todd, the cashier, pressed the 'Y' key on the keyboard beneath his computer as he responded.
As York approached the wall, it split open with a creak, revealing an elevator.
To ordinary people, this might seem strange, but for York, it was normal. This was all to prevent accidental entry by the uninitiated. Just like Roline had said earlier, ordinary people have their world, and those who are different have theirs.
York stepped in, and the door closed automatically, taking him to his destination.
Six seconds later.
When the elevator doors opened, York saw a corridor bathed in red light, resembling a bar's decor, with music faintly audible in the background.
Remembering a certain individual's preferences, York shook his head and walked out of the elevator into the corridor. The deeper he went, the louder the music became.
Rock, country...
Listening to the music and reaching the end, everything suddenly became clear.
York, standing at the entrance with his backpack, squinted his eyes. Above was the convenience store, and below was a bar-like setting. It had everything a boutique bar should have.
A narrow bar counter, shelves filled with various bottles, and scattered sofa booths.
At a glance, each booth had patrons – playing cards, drinking, sitting quietly listening to music, or chatting. There were men and women, but not all the patrons were necessarily human.
Smelling the faint scent of lava, York, with his now seemingly tiny backpack, walked down the stairs nonchalantly.
As the rock music played, the tall and robust priest attracted everyone's attention. As York passed by, a synchronous rhythm occurred – everyone momentarily stopped what they were doing.
However, aside from those unfamiliar with the situation, these people merely glanced and then diverted their eyes.
Curiosity, suspicion, fear, stiffness – these expressions could be seen all around.
The playful atmosphere changed for a moment, but York didn't mind. Most of the patrons here, other than the exorcists with special abilities or unorthodox methods, were mostly demons accidentally summoned and registered, now in human form.
Bluntly speaking, many were familiar faces York had dealt with before. The demons still here were either trained by the church or were content to live peacefully, enjoying human life. Compared to the destroyed demons, these obedient, job-holding demons were the real winners of life.
Thinking this, York walked through the door into another area.
Behind him, relieved sighs echoed.
Click!
The environment changed again. This place had the same layout as the convenience store above – rows of shelves, but instead of regular goods, they were filled with books, various jars, and peculiar formalin-soaked specimens.
York's gaze stopped at the counter ahead. There was an old man with cool features, wearing reading glasses and a pipe in his mouth, hunched over a microscope.
"Father Mac, what new thing are you researching now?"
At the sound of York's voice, the old man at the counter paused his work. He removed his glasses and looked up, his expression changing from puzzled to surprised.
"York?"
Seeing the old man's expression change, York stopped in front of the counter, placing his backpack on it. He glanced at the piece of meat under the microscope and smiled.
"Surprised to see me?"
"Hmm, indeed I am."
Recognizing York, the old man put down his glasses and showed a genuinely happy smile, creasing the lines on his forehead.
"Why do you have time to come here?"
"I exorcised a spirit and happened to be passing by, so I thought I'd come see you." York answered truthfully, pulling out a bundle of Franklins from his backpack and handing them over.
"Hmm, I've also got some spirit powder."
"Spirit powder?"
At this, Old Mac's white eyebrows lifted slightly. He took the crumpled bundle, holding his pipe in his left hand, and uncovered it to peek at the powder inside.
"This stuff has been in short supply recently."
Confirming its authenticity, Old Mac put away the bundle and pointed at York with his pipe, smiling.
"But I knew it, you wouldn't leave your nest unless you had to."
"You know me well."
York smiled, looking at the old man before him, reminiscing. Despite being retired, this man was at least a bishop in his prime.
___________________
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The title of Archbishop might not seem significant at first glance, but upon closer examination, its importance becomes evident. Although the Church in this parallel world differs significantly from the Church of the past, their hierarchical structure is quite similar.
The Church is divided into ecclesiastical and secular hierarchies.
The ecclesiastical hierarchy consists of three main categories: bishops, priests, and deacons. They are the official members of the Church with the power of faith. Just as faith does not distinguish between high and low, each person in the ecclesiastical hierarchy is a clergyman, but their rank is defined by the secular hierarchy.
The highest rank is naturally God. Below Him is the Pope, whom York had phoned, equivalent to a sovereign ruler in terms of power.
Below the Pope is the highest-ranking Cardinal Secretary of State, who takes care of the Pope's daily needs and has the right to amend documents and issue decrees, comparable to a prime minister or crown prince.
Below the Cardinals are the Archbishops, who lead major dioceses and are equivalent to cabinet ministers, appointed by the Pope to assist him in church affairs. The College of Cardinals, formed by the Archbishops, has the right to elect the Pope.
Further down are the Metropolitans, who are in charge of the major dioceses, akin to powerful feudal lords.
Then, there are the Archbishops who assist the Metropolitans in managing the dioceses.
Below them are the Chief Bishops, overseeing several provinces, and the Diocesan Bishops, who manage the provincial centers within those provinces. Then come the bishops who govern a province and those who oversee a diocese, roughly equivalent to mayors.
The man York was currently speaking to was of Archbishop rank, holding a position of significant power and authority.
Dressed in a vest and jeans, with a pipe in his mouth, he looked carefree and quite different from the stern image York remembered.
"What brings you here this time?" Old Mac, unaware of York's thoughts, knocked on his pipe and spoke as he exhaled a ring of smoke.
"I don't believe you just came to see me."
Watching the relaxed elder, York smiled and got straight to the point.
"I need your help to look into someone."
At these words, Old Mac's eyes revealed a 'I knew it' smirk.
York coughed and then pulled out the information he had obtained from St. Luce Church, handing it to Old Mac.
This was his plan all along, to follow this path.
Before going to St. Luce Church, he had prepared for the possibility of the person's death. If they were dead, he would use his channels to investigate where the person had been before coming to America.
For matters solely in America, Hannah could easily look it up. However, for international issues, her abilities might not suffice, as she wouldn't know where paranormal events had occurred, but the Church would...
Old Mac casually took the documents, glanced over them briefly, and stopped at the photo of Frank Lynch's death. The bloodstains and dense wounds on his body were evident, but the main cause of death was an iron spike piercing from his eyeball to the back of his head.
"A malevolent spirit?"
Remembering the ominous presence on Roline, York shook his head and said calmly,
"I think it's more than just a malevolent spirit."
Old Mac continued flipping through the pages, his tone rising.
"Then it must be a demon."
York's expression remained unchanged, "Yes."
Old Mac paused, glanced at York's stoic face, and sighed.
"Alright, since it's a demon, I'll help you look into it."
"Good."
Sensing Old Mac's shift, York smiled indifferently, picked up his backpack, and changed the subject to the lump of flesh beside them.
"So, what are you researching exactly?"
Old Mac quietly put away the documents. "You know about vampires, right?"
"Vampires?" York's brows rose. He was certainly familiar, having seen many vampire-related movies and shows in his previous life, even the 'Twilight' series.
"Yes," Old Mac said nonchalantly, "My recent research topic is why vampires recover so quickly, even though they seem no different from humans."
York's mouth twitched. This kind of in-depth research was not really his thing; he preferred surface-level subjects. But since it was mentioned, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, thinking of a cool guy who rode Harley motorcycles all the time, and casually asked,
"Did Hilary find this for you?"
Hilary, Old Mac's son, a registered exorcist, roamed around claiming to be a protector of the world, seeking excitement out of boredom.
He was similar to those rich kids who sought thrill in extreme sports.
If anyone could joke around with Old Mac, it was probably Hilary.
Perhaps talking about his son, Old Mac smiled and nodded.
"Yes, he brought it to me yesterday."
"Alright."
York glanced again at the flesh under the microscope. He was quite curious about the vampires in this parallel world. After all, in his past life, he always heard about how handsome and noble the vampire aristocrats were.
He wondered if it was the same in this world.
"Interested?" Old Mac teased, "I know you're smart. If you could help me figure this out, we might even win an award, like the Nobel Prize..."
"Nobel? That prize is of no use to me." York withdrew his gaze and immediately declined, starting to walk away.
"There's only one thing that's useful to me."
Old Mac leaned forward, supporting himself with one hand, drawing a puff from his pipe, and watched York's retreating figure.
"What's that?"
York stopped at the door, turned to look at the lazy elder, and smiled, "Tell Hilary to remember to transfer the money to my usual account."
Hearing this, Old Mac waved his hand dismissively, not wanting his son to be taken advantage of.
"Get out, get out, just go."
"Heh." York shrugged, smiled, opened the door, and left the area.
Click! The door closed,
Old Mac glanced at the now shut door, looked at the documents on the counter, sighed after a moment of silence.
"Ah, this kid really is..."
His voice trailed off, filled with myriad emotions.
___________________
Read Ahead
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