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75.44% Exorcist in America / Chapter 297: Chapter 297: The Second One

Chương 297: Chapter 297: The Second One

The entire world was in a state of upheaval.

Everyone could feel a change in the air.

Both online and in society, there was a uniform direction—hope.

But for York, he didn't feel much different.

Even though his every move was followed, and he was surrounded by people who naturally obeyed his commands, for York, it was just ordinary.

Even in the real world, he had always been in this situation—whatever he did, there were always a few who obeyed his commands, always a few extremely devout followers.

So, transitioning here wasn't difficult at all.

In fact, for him, this world was like a seaside resort, and the very apparent changes outside were merely the waves.

And he was like a tourist, standing on the beach watching the waves roll in.

In summary, it was all ordinary for him, nothing groundbreaking enough to shake his core.

The waves rolled in and out, but they didn't affect his plans.

He was merely leading Marcos and the other sanitation workers to the nearest abandoned church to Amara town.

This larger town was named Bellobello.

The difference in scale between Amara and Bellobello could be described as that between a town and a county city.

So, there were more people and a larger church.

Watching the people confined within a certain range, York turned to Marcos, who had unwittingly replaced Mirta as his new assistant.

But it was undeniable that the two were incomparable.

Marcos seemed to come from a very prominent family, a true elite, thus his effectiveness far surpassed what Mirta could achieve.

The surging crowd outside was proof of this.

They were densely packed yet orderly.

And the officials had been relegated to assisting roles, acting as security.

The uniformed figures standing like barriers in front of the crowd were proof enough.

"Marcos, this is your doing," York couldn't help but ask.

It was the first time he saw the number of followers increasing so rapidly in seconds.

Marcos, sensing the bishop's surprise, showed a rare smile and nodded lightly.

"I notified the local authorities and our comrades of your arrival."

York glanced at the dense crowd outside and commended.

"Well done, Marcos."

Marcos's smile couldn't be suppressed any longer.

"Thank you for your praise, Bishop."

This prompted his colleagues to exchange knowing smiles.

"This Marcos..."

Since joining the church, Marcos had visibly undergone a significant transformation.

Not just him, but they all felt more at ease than ever before, without any worries.

They finally understood something, shifting their gaze from Marcos to the bishop touring the church.

The bishop's presence seemed to overshadow everything.

Being near the bishop felt like standing beside a mighty mountain; the sense of security was indescribable...

If they had to put it in words, it would be: "If the sky falls, the bishop will hold it up."

"Let's go inside and take a look."

As York spoke, he walked towards the church on his own.

"Yes, Bishop."

Marcos was always quick to follow, while the others were a step slower.

York's mouth curved into a slight smile.

This guy, Marcos, was truly outstanding; he understood York's intentions and what he wanted—efficient and to the point, without needing any hints from York.

And because of Marcos's top-tier status, York found that he seemingly didn't need to do much anymore.

For example, dialogues with officials or distributing bibles, crosses, and so forth.

With the addition of Marcos and the sanitation workers, York could say he had people whenever he wanted, money whenever he needed.

He was capitalizing on the reputation and authority that the sanitation workers had accumulated, so the progress was remarkably fast.

Now, with the Bible that he brought as the core, copies were being freely distributed to the followers.

At this moment, what Marcos and the other sanitation workers carried was not the cumbersome, complex equipment of before but a Bible, four bottles of holy water, and two crosses.

"It seems I just need to keep creating churches and granting power," York thought as he walked on, outwardly calm.

"It looks like my mission is nearing its end. As expected, completing the task is best."

At his side, Marcos, a group of supportive sanitation workers, and the local officials quietly followed.

The local official, a rather unfriendly-looking fellow, was now showing a very stiff smile as he introduced the church.

"Bishop York, we have prepared the church for you. Everything is new, including the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculptures, candles, tiles…"

Together, these elements presented a brand-new church that seemed to glow before York.

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful."

York smiled and was not stingy with his praise.

This made the local official from Bellobello, Alfi Patten, crack a broader smile, his stiff expression becoming more natural.

Everyone was smiling.

As things developed and were deliberately orchestrated, the atmosphere in the entire Free Nation was

 to go all out to please the bishop, who seemed to be a saint out of legend.

If anyone did something to upset the bishop, it wouldn't just be the authorities and sanitation workers reacting—the hopeful-eyed masses would tear you apart...

"If that's the case,"

York, hands clasped behind his back, stared at the statue of Jesus at the end of the central aisle, and declared,

"This church will be named the Bellobello Church."

He had become so relaxed that he was naming churches after local names.

But no one opposed this; instead, they slightly bowed their heads in agreement.

"Yes, Bishop."

York was extremely pleased internally; he loved how smoothly things were progressing.

He didn't demand much, just to create more churches, leveraging the world's resources to clear the forbidden zones and complete his mission.

As the holy power surged within him, he instantly reached the statue of Jesus, sanctifying it with the same minimal expenditure of ten points as the Pluto Church.

[Used ten points of holy power]

The prompt echoed in his ear.

[Bellobello Church]

[Level 2 Church]

[Accumulated holy power: 0 points]

[Number of followers: 2096]

[...]

The followers here were directly assigned to the newly created Bellobello Church.

To everyone's perception, the bishop suddenly appeared enveloped in a layer of pure white light, the scene like being draped in white gauze.

Their hearts stirred, and they instinctively looked toward the statue of Jesus at the back.

The statue seemed to come to life, no longer just a lifeless sculpture.

Then a voice resonated, falling into their hearts like the sound of thundering drums.

"Markalov Dreyar!"

York called out the name of a sanitation worker, recalling his file.

In a region heavily infected by corruption, this man had resisted the spirits' onslaught with just one arm, bravely extracting the demonic seeds from the corrupted bodies.

His achievements included removing four corrupt beings, and with the help of local officials, he moved four thousand civilians using just his human strength.

This was an impressive record.

Without any supernatural powers.

As a mere human, he had distinguished between spirits and humans and successfully moved four thousand people to avoid infection—a feat far from ordinary.

Such success required an unwavering will and an unregretful readiness to face death.

Also essential was an exceptional talent for management.

As the saying goes, a general may manage a battalion, but a commander controls an army.

Markalov Dreyar had the qualifications to become a priest and take charge of the Bellobello Church.

From the detailed records and data, York could see that this man had the qualifications to be a bishop.

None other, this was a person of remarkable quality, even more so than himself, perfectly suited to be a clergyman of the church.

As everyone was moved by these words, one person stepped forward and knelt on one knee under York's gaze.

"Present!"

Markalov Dreyar, composed with a determined gleam in his eyes, wore a simple, black robe, a bag slung over his left shoulder, his left hand holding a bent iron hand, his right hand resting on his chest.

Aside from some confused local officials, Marcos and other sanitation workers looked at Markalov Dreyar with joy on their faces.

They understood the situation at hand.

In Bishop York's words, Markalov Dreyar was to be the second clergyman, entrusted with the church's real power.

Although they were still ordinary people and not yet clergymen, there was no jealousy in their hearts, only joy for Markalov Dreyar.

"Markalov Dreyar, you are brave and fearless. You face danger head-on, letting demons witness your iron will…"

Speaking calmly, York extended his right hand and placed it on the kneeling Markalov Dreyar's forehead, gently saying,

"You have the qualifications to be a priest."

This clarified the situation for everyone present, including the local officials and sanitation workers.

Slowly moderating their expressions, they began to regard the scene before them with reverence.

They were witnessing a moment that would be etched into the annals of history.

"Are you ready?" York stared at Markalov Dreyar, who seemed a bit excited, his eyes red, and spoke softly.

"Markalov Dreyar, you will take charge of this area, responsible for preaching, maintaining peace, addressing the needs and confusions of the followers, and being their confidant and comforter, supporting them in their troubles and dilemmas…"

Markalov Dreyar responded with a deep bow.

"Yes, Bishop, I am ready."

His voice trembled slightly.

"Very well."

York smiled, the holy power within him stirring again.

Sanctifying a deacon or nun cost twenty points, but sanctifying a priest required fifty points.

Fortunately, the Bellobello Church had already started accumulating faith power from the

 moment the statue of Jesus was sanctified.

[Accumulated holy power: 73 points]

He didn't need to use his own power, drawing directly from the church's stored holy energy to sanctify Markalov Dreyar.

The church's accumulated holy power dropped by fifty points in an instant.

Markalov Dreyar felt something new within him, an unknown force that warmed him throughout...

To everyone else, he radiated a pure, heartwarming holy light.

This burst of holy light filled their vision, bright enough to make Markalov Dreyar's figure disappear within it.

But a few seconds later, everything returned to normal, as if the scene had never occurred.

"It's done."

Bishop York's voice rang out as he retracted his hand and asked,

"Markalov Dreyar, how do you feel?"

Everyone turned their gaze back to the kneeling Markalov Dreyar.

Markalov Dreyar wasn't sure how to describe it; he simply stated in plain language,

"Bishop, it feels like I've gained some strength, and there's a warm energy inside me…"

"Yes, that's the true power of a clergyman." York smiled, looking at Markalov Dreyar with approval and satisfaction in his eyes.

Indeed, he had the potential and qualifications to be a bishop.

The amount of holy power needed for sanctification was fixed, but the power the sanctified person could wield depended on their own capabilities.

After all, not everyone is the same; among humans, there are geniuses and mediocrities.

Like Markalov Dreyar before him, he used fifty points of the church's holy power for his sanctification.

But the gain and reward were eighty points of holy power.

Why he could draw from the church's stored holy power was because the church itself was sanctified with his power.

Similarly, he could also access the holy power within the priest he had sanctified.

Feeling the eighty points of holy power that had emerged in Markalov Dreyar, York still stood with his hands behind his back.

"Rise."

In that instant, Markalov Dreyar felt an irresistible force lift him up.

He instinctively wanted to resist, but then he remembered what Marcos had said.

"Yes, Bishop."

Markalov Dreyar bowed his head in respect, feeling only obedience and reverence in his heart.

York's expression unchanged, he patted Markalov Dreyar's shoulder and continued walking forward.

"First, get familiar with your own power, and then you can learn the related skills."

"Yes! Bishop." Markalov Dreyar responded.

Listening to the reply from behind, York had already taken a step forward, looking at a virtual display others couldn't see, thinking of something.

"Tomorrow, we'll open the Bellobello Church, and Markalov Dreyar, you'll be in charge of the related sacramental ceremonies."

At the Pluto Church, these days of performing sacraments were wearing him out.

Markalov Dreyar's heart tightened, a bit nervous, looking at the bishop's back, wanting to say something, to refuse, but in the end, he just opened his mouth and replied,

"Yes! Bishop, I will be ready."

"…"

Then a group of colleagues came up excitedly, giving him encouraging looks.

"Good job, Markalov!"

"Keep it up!"

"…"

Each colleague spoke softly, then patted his left shoulder, passing on their support and encouragement, then continued following the bishop.

Markalov Dreyar watched from behind, looking at the leading, mountain-like figure, and the series of figures under that shadow, and he couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Who knew he was already feeling nervous now?

"It seems even more nerve-wracking than when I was driving out the corruption…"

Markalov Dreyar took a deep breath and caught up.

"I'm going for it!"

Markalov Dreyar, now the church's second clergyman, thought to himself.

___________________

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Chương 298: Chapter 298: Purification

"I am the light of the world; he who follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."

"I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.

And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die."

"..."

From the Belobello Church, a series of lengthy prayers echoed through the air.

York was holding the documents that Marcos had just brought over, his lips curling slightly.

"Although it's my first time, it's not bad at all."

At this moment, Makarov Dreyar was no longer a janitor, but the respected Father Makarov to these followers.

"Keep it up, keep pushing."

Before York opened the documents, he glanced at the virtual window in front of him.

He now owned two churches.

The Pluto Church was advancing towards a level four church at a very fast pace.

The number of believers was growing daily, but due to regional limitations, the growth rate of Pluto Church would eventually slow down and stabilize.

The newly established Belobello Church, however, was still skyrocketing by the second.

It had already reached the same level as Pluto Church, both being level three churches with over three thousand believers, capable of accumulating three hundred divine power points.

"With this rate of growth, it only needs two days to advance to a level four church, capable of accumulating four hundred divine power points."

York shifted his gaze from the virtual window, his heart filled with pleasure.

He loved this feeling of rapid growth.

Not to mention the subsequent creation of more churches.

Adding the authority to confer priesthood.

York didn't even know what kind of power he could ultimately wield, but presumably, he was enough to demolish nations with a single strike.

"If I could double the magic power."

York stared at the document in his hand, which detailed the attitudes of the local authorities.

Like in Belobello Town, authorities everywhere welcomed them.

"Since the next place is you."

York continued to spread his influence locally, choosing the county closest to Belobello Town.

He aimed to cover the entire Free Nation like a fishing net, maintaining peace everywhere.

At that moment, York looked up at the door.

Now with a priest, he had taken a step back to let the priest face the forefront.

In a holographic scan-like display, Marcos was hurriedly entering.

"Trouble?"

Seeing Marcos's anxious face, York put down the document in his hand, composed.

Whether trouble arose or not, he was always prepared.

The journey was never meant to be peaceful.

After all, the world was still in a post-apocalyptic state.

He didn't believe that his presence would immediately bring peace to the entire Free Nation without the appearance of rotspawn.

At the same time, something was bound to happen.

Seeing Marcos appear at the door, York's right hand rested on the documents on the table, speaking calmly.

"What happened, weren't you patrolling Belobello Town?"

Hearing the calming voice, Marcos finally relaxed his emotions, bowed slightly, and then spoke the words that made York narrow his eyes.

"Bishop, the border has fallen, and a serial killing has occurred in the nearby town of Staht, suspected to be caused by spirits infected by rotspawn."

Upon remembering the photos and information that had just been passed to him, Marcos took a deep breath.

"No, it should be that rotspawn have appeared in Staht Town."

Finished speaking, Marcos looked at the calm bishop in front of him, seeking help in his eyes.

"If I hadn't appeared, what would you have done as usual?"

York tapped the documents with his right index finger and looked at Marcos.

"Border falls, relocate a hundred miles, and separate from everyone on the border," Marcos said through clenched teeth.

"All local authorities need to quarantine Staht Town, send out all janitors to perform differentiation work in Staht Town, and trace the source of the rotspawn!"

"Separation?"

York stared at Marcos: "That means giving up on the people at the border?"

Marcos suddenly kneeled on one knee, his voice solemn: "Bishop, this is the only choice."

He said, raising his head, "If you are here now, we can have many options."

York raised his eyebrows slightly: "Let's hear it, I want to know your plan."

"The border is far, they advance, we retreat, fighting for time."

Marcos took a deep breath and said word by word: "I heard that you have eyes that can discern everything, can instantly spot the location of rotspawn, and can also restore spirits to normal."

"If possible, we can maintain a safe distance while retreating, keeping a safe distance from the advancing evil spirits until you intervene."

Upon hearing Marcos's words, a look of approval flashed in York's eyes.

"This guy really gets it, seems to understand my needs."

Looking at Marcos kneeling with his head down, unable to see his expression, York

 started to smile.

Yes, talent is the most important; after all, territories will always exist, waiting for a ruler.

Once people are gone, it would take decades to see another mature, independent-thinking individual.

According to Marcos's previous approach, this separation would certainly kill all those on the border.

The so-called sacrificing one to save many, erring on the side of caution, slowing down the development of demonic power, thereby gaining a period of peace.

"Truly desperate."

York stared at Marcos, feeling a twinge in his heart. There's always a cliff when you keep retreating; the world is only so big, there's not much space to fall back on.

Fortunately, he was here...

The plan Marcos mentioned could avoid conflicts, preserve the infected spirits and people who would die in the conflicts, and also drag out time for him to reach the frontlines.

For this plan, he undoubtedly maintained approval.

York thought for a moment and said calmly: "Use your plan for the border issue, and as for Staht Town, let Father Makarov handle it, let him get some practice,

I can't possibly take care of everything by myself."

Marcos suddenly looked up.

York had already picked up the document: "Don't worry, as long as you keep me in your hearts, I will always be with you."

Saying this, York stared at the document, smiled at Marcos, and said.

"I will be watching all of you, and you can also get a preview of what a clergyman can really do..."

Hearing this, Marcos could only suppress his thoughts and respectfully replied: "Yes! Bishop."

York waved his hand.

Marcos stood up and left.

Not long after, Marcos and Makarov, who had become a priest and had been personally mentored by him, left the Belobello Church and headed straight for nearby Staht Town at a very fast pace.

Time equals lives saved, arriving in time could save many people.

"Rotspawn are rubbish, only capable of infecting, so the potential spirits are a bit tricky..."

All the while, York, who was watching everything, put down the document, leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands behind his head, his feet on the boss's desk.

His gaze was intense, as if he was watching everything.

Indeed, he could sense Makarov's perspective, could sense everything around Makarov.

He could also see the silent janitors and Marcos in the vehicle.

...

"Is there any difference after becoming a priest?"

In the vehicle, Marcos looked at Makarov, who was sitting beside him in a priest's robe, and asked.

This question echoed in the vehicle, and everyone's gaze rested on Makarov.

Including the driver and the copilot, they watched through the rear-view mirror.

In their eyes, Makarov now seemed different from before.

Not only was he more composed than before, but his appearance had also visibly changed.

His previously tired, dim face was now radiant and visibly younger, even his graying hair had faded, which was noteworthy because Makarov's hair had turned partially white due to fatigue.

Makarov felt his colleagues' gaze, exhaled softly, and patted the bag on his lap.

"If there's any change, it's that I have the power of the equipment."

Continuing, Makarov said:

"I've also learned related skills."

"I can restore spirits to normal and clear rotspawn."

"I can attack and defend."

"I am stronger than before, even if four or five people attack together, they probably couldn't beat me."

The people in the vehicle silently listened, digesting his words one by one.

Makarov looked at the silent Marcos and said, "You should know, this is a power that can contend with demons."

"Yes."

Marcos relaxed, a glint of reminiscence in his eyes.

"We have all seen the power of demons, and we have seen it merely wave its hand, and instantly kill hundreds of people; we were all stunned then,

That's not technology, it's a power we cannot comprehend."

Makarov pursed his lips, his right hand subconsciously stroking his steel hand, where he had once lost his left arm.

That inexplicable power, invisible and intangible, yet felt overwhelmingly unstoppable and unbearable.

"I asked the bishop, and the bishop said this is supernatural power, a force beyond ordinary human capabilities, which ordinary people cannot withstand."

Marcos clenched his hand, closed his eyes, then opened them, his eyes resolute.

"And now we finally have this power, able to resist the power of demons."

Everyone in the vehicle, including Makarov, silently nodded.

In line with Marcos's words, they shared a common sentiment.

"We must utterly eradicate the demons..." Marcos said.

Meanwhile.

York chuckled as if watching a movie.

"Heh."

..............

Staht Town.

At every necessary pathway, a group of soldiers with cold expressions appeared.

They were fully armed, each holding formidable firearms and more.

Besides

 these, these soldiers, following orders, also set up technological weapons like machine guns at crucial points, securing the entire town of Staht.

At the same time, a few janitors were put in charge of overseeing everything.

Marcos and others, able to command all this, reached the central avenue of Staht Town.

At this moment, the area was on full alert.

This was Marcos's method.

Of course, it was also deliberate, mainly because the nearby Belobello Town had a bishop.

Even though the bishop had invincible power, Marcos and others did not want this incident to affect the bishop.

Although they were ordinary people, they also had the heart to protect the bishop.

Because the bishop is the savior of the whole world.

Facing the salutes of those guarding the checkpoints, Marcos looked at the calm Makarov.

"The bishop said, you will lead this operation, what do you plan to do?"

Makarov exhaled softly, having once asked the bishop about the priest's way of handling rotspawn incidents.

Makarov pulled his backpack, took out holy water, and walked forward.

"The bishop said the most effortless method is to first identify the spirits, expel them, and I need your assistance."

Marcos nodded, waved his hand, and led everyone to follow Makarov's steps.

As they entered the boundaries of Staht Town.

Makarov's approach was very straightforward and aggressive.

He led everyone inside, first checking the local authorities, the police station, and the barracks maintaining order.

Although the local police station was the reporting party, Makarov did not want to let them go, leading his team to take complete control of the police station.

Then he took out the holy water and dripped it onto the heads of the personnel at the police station one by one.

Following the bishop's advice, he knew to control the situation first by checking the authorities' personnel, then gradually take control.

And controlling the situation required more manpower.

As the bishop had said, having control measures in place meant that more people equaled more power.

...

At the controlled police station.

"No."

Seeing no abnormal situations, Makarov shook his head, letting the person in front of him leave, then looked at the next person coming forward, dripping the holy water bottle onto this person's head.

"No."

Makarov continued to shake his head, dripping as he spoke to Marcos and his colleagues nearby.

"The bishop said holy water has holy properties, inherently opposed to darkness, with exorcising and warding effects; if it's truly a spirit, a corresponding reaction will definitely occur..."

Marcos and his colleagues exchanged glances, noting these words.

At this moment, one after another, personnel came up for inspection, all turning out to be normal people.

Until the last person, dressed in a police uniform, under control, came forward to be identified by Makarov, his expression seemed uneasy.

Makarov instantly noticed this, and without waiting for the person to come forward, acted on his instincts and flung the holy water at him.

Caught off guard, the police officer appeared stunned, seemingly not expecting Makarov to act so suddenly.

He showed a ferocious expression, making a move to draw his gun.

This scene, reflected in everyone's eyes, confirmed the presence of a spirit, causing alarm and action, but all were a step too late.

Only Makarov remained coldly composed because the holy water had already hit the officer about to draw his gun.

Aaahhhhh!

The officer's body emitted a thick smoke, as if burning in flames, screaming in agony.

His actions hesitated.

Then, he was forcefully subdued by the quickly reacting soldiers nearby.

"Whether it's a spirit or rotspawn, as long as the demonic seed hasn't been nourished by blood into a flower, as long as the demon itself hasn't appeared in the world, the rest are just ordinary people to us clergy..."

Echoing the bishop's words in his mind, Makarov watched the chaotic scene before him, his heart stirred. He took a deep breath, channeling the unfamiliar energy within him to purify the spirit in front of him, and began to recite.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we come before you, asking you to bestow your grace upon us, to purify our hearts..."

In the eyes of Marcos and everyone present, Makarov suddenly became sanctified.

___________________

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