Chapter 83: The Image of the Nun

York, once again under the scrutiny of the many eyes in the hall, watched as the elevator doors parted and stepped out.

"Father York!"

Todd, the black cashier who had been keeping watch at the cash register, bowed his head in a respectful greeting.

York nodded in acknowledgment, glanced at the goods on the shelves, and casually picked up a few loaves of bread, walking over to place them on the counter.

"Todd, anything new happening lately?"

Under the bright incandescent lights, Todd's dark skin appeared even darker. As he used the scanner to price the bread, he pondered for a moment.

"Father York, there's been an increase in new faces lately."

"Oh, is that so?" York replied calmly, but inside, he couldn't help thinking about the message that Satan was looking for him and how the frequency of paranormal events seemed to be on the rise.

"Yes," Todd replied, packing all the bread into a bag and handing it over with a tone neither servile nor overbearing.

"That'll be one dollar, Father York."

"Alright." York nodded, casually taking out a $50 bill and leaving it on the counter as he walked out of the store.

"No need for change, Todd. The rest is for your hard work."

Todd silently picked up the bill, watching York's retreating figure with respect.

"Thank you, Father York. Take care."

York waved his hand, found his Ford Raptor, opened the door, tossed the backpack into the passenger seat, and sat down.

Bang!

With the car door closed, even though he didn't feel tired, York couldn't help rubbing his face, taking a piece of bread to eat.

"Time to review…"

Muttering to himself, York ate while taking the opportunity to carefully recall all the information and plan his next steps. This habit of reflection, a carryover from his past life as a doctor, helped him to constantly improve his skills.

"If the Frenchman contracted it abroad, then the power he's able to use now shouldn't be that strong. Otherwise, the ominous presence on Roline wouldn't be just to this extent. But as time goes on, his power will likely increase."

As York leisurely tore a piece of bread, he couldn't help but think that given the demon's high interest in Roline, it might take some action in the near future.

After eating, York concluded two things: he needed to wait for news from Old Mac and Roline.

He tossed the bread wrapper into a slot next to him, looked back at the quiet back seat, started the car, shifted gears, and drove off towards New York.

Stamford, Connecticut, wasn't far from New York, only about 58 kilometers away, so it didn't take long for York to get home. He moved all the items he had gotten from Ed to his basement warehouse.

For a time, the basement, usually filled with weapons and exorcism tools, had a new corner resembling a collection of items, though they were mediums containing evil spirits. After surrounding them with ropes adorned with crosses, York paused, looked at the still Annabelle doll, and smiled.

His basement was not as simple as Ed's room. Beside the glass cabinet was a large shelf of crosses he had accumulated, and the thick holy energy there was enough to suppress the evil spirits' restless thoughts.

"So, stay here and think of this as home. I don't mind."

Sensing the weak presence of the spirits inside, York patted the glass cabinet, turned off the light, and went upstairs to sleep.

Before sleeping, York didn't forget to record today's experiment results—the consumption rate of the recording and how one point of spiritual power could maintain an hour's effect. He also didn't forget to add the 0.5 attribute points he gained today to his life value.

[Life Value: 124 increased to 124.5]

[...]

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, York woke up refreshed. Even without sleep, he would still be in top condition, but he felt that sleeping was the best way to sense the passage of time.

[10:21]

After getting ready, York headed to the church. Although Pluto Church had employed Robert, there wasn't much change. The same familiar parishioners came and went, sharing their petty troubles and concerns about their children. Unfortunately, no random tasks were triggered...

However, there were two noticeable changes. The first was the group of noisy kids in the yard, Robert's daughters, who brought a new world of sound to his already non-human ears.

The second change was today's lunch, specially brought by Robert's wife, Beth.

Looking at the appealing meal in his hands, York glanced at Robert's family eating together, their laughter reminding him of how he had saved this family.

"This feeling... isn't too bad..." York mused with a smile, beginning to eat. The taste was good and to his liking.

As time passed and he was halfway through his meal, his phone suddenly rang. York, sensing something, paused and took out his phone.

"Ed? That was quick?"

Remembering his previous suspicions, York felt a surge of emotion and answered the call.

Indeed, Ed's first words were about the nun, not Roline, but York himself. Ed also dreamt about the nun, a much clearer and haunting image than Roline's.

"Father York! I drew her. Do you want to see?"

York looked at Robert's family, took his utensils, and walked into the main building.

"Yes, send it over to me."

"Okay, Father York."

After the call, York sat down in his usual spot and soon received the drawing from Ed.

The typical image of a nun in habit, but with deathly pale skin like a corpse soaked in a pond for days, and pitch-black eyes and lips, exuding a strong sense of evil.

Now knowing the image of the nun, York felt his heart stir for the first time.

"It seems we're dealing with a formidable opponent."

York felt grateful for the support from his readers, appreciating their contributions.

support.

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