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Exorcist of the American Nightmares

"Father Yorks, may I ask what is meant by scientific exorcism?" A large group of priests in divine robes at the bottom stared at the man on top of the high platform, their eyes fiery as they asked. Listening to the task released in his ears, the corners of Yorks' mouth rose slightly, and "What do you mean by scientific exorcism? My answer is that we have to utilize the characteristics of modern technology in conjunction with our traditional exorcism methods to exorcise demons ......" "We all know that the evil spirit hates our recitation of the Bible, so we can record our recitation and play it out through audio, tormenting it every day and making it physically ill ......" "The evil spirit hates holy water and holy water will cause it as much damage as fire, if it doesn't come out and does its little tricks to disgust people every day, then we can ask the homeowner's permission to use the showerhead to sweep through the house and irritate it every day, of course this will require a lot of holy water, so roll it up ...... " "If an evil spirit or demonic being descends, we'll just blast it to death with a gun, if the gun doesn't work, then a cannon, if the cannon doesn't work, then a nuke, if the nuke doesn't work, then just wait for it to die ......" "......" Perverts, witches, magic, vampires, werewolves, demons, killers, the main one is a scientific [physical] exorcism ...... ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.

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159 Chs

Chapter 148: Mission Accomplished

Exiting the room, the familiar hallway and living room came into view. The space was neither large nor exceptionally exquisite.

With just a sofa set and a television, and hardly anything extra except for a water dispenser, a shaking electric fan, and portraits of great leaders and founding generals updated yearly on the wall.

Simple yet, these images belonged to the memories buried deep in his heart. Whether it was York or Joseph Johnsonstanding in front of the TV screen, glancing unconsciously at the reflection of their figure on the black screen, the emotions were complex, indescribable.

At the beginning of his journey through parallel worlds, he spent time sitting idly in the Pluto Church, reminiscing about his past life, his parents from his previous life. He had also deceived Santan with his unique identity, driving it back to hell.

Logically, his mind should remain unruffled.

Yet, entering this scene he created, despite knowing it's false, he actually felt a hint of fear.

"Homesickness?"

York touched the face he had almost forgotten and chuckled to himself.

"Then, let's be Joseph Johnsonwith only forty minutes left..."

"Are you not coming down yet!"

His mother's voice echoed, perfectly matching his memory. Ning Weize's lips curled up, and he began to descend the stairs.

Memories of his old home flooded back. Although it was a three-story building, which sounded affluent, his parents were just farmers, and their house was a self-built structure in the countryside. Compared to the neighbors' four or five-story buildings, theirs was modest.

Yet, in comparison, their three-story house was utilized more effectively.

Thus, in his past life, his family wasn't wealthy. To support his medical studies, the family's manageable financial situation became stretched thin. They lived frugally to the point of seldom buying meat.

"That was six whole years..."

Ning Weize's face showed a trace of reminiscence as he turned and descended, arriving at the dining room on the first floor.

At that moment, the familiar scent of home hit him,

Joseph Johnsonlooked at his father sitting on the stool and his mother standing by the table setting dishes, pausing unconsciously at their familiar faces.

"Um?"

His mother, with her hair mixed white and black, showing signs of hard work after farming, put down her chopsticks and sat with a puzzled look.

"Aren't you coming to eat? Standing there smiling foolishly, you look like a fool."

Hearing this, his father, also with hair mixed white and black and embodying the traditional father's silence, raised an eyebrow.

"I just encountered something very happy." Joseph Johnsonrubbed his nose, his smile bright as he took his seat, facing their curious gazes.

"Because I have a girlfriend now! And my doctoral certificate has arrived, along with an offer from a top-tier hospital..."

With a crack, the surrounding space began to fracture, revealing its true form.

Looking at his parents sitting at the dining table, frozen in smile and motion, York's gaze softened as he hugged them one by one.

"Goodbye."

As his words fell, the burst of holy light from his body caused the already fragile space to crack even more.

[20 points of holy power used]

...

Crack! Space fragments rapidly fell away, revealing the original scene.

A dirty, blood-stained bathroom was exposed.

York blinked, his posture unchanged, gun in hand aimed at the corner, with the air humidifier still furiously operating, releasing plumes of mist.

This seemed to prove that the several minutes he spent in the illusionary space were merely an instant.

"Thank you."

York's eyes flashed with memories of what felt like just minutes, thanking the shadow in the corner for allowing him to see his parents in his mind again, fulfilling that false emotional release.

Suddenly, the wall bled like flowing water, attempting to form words, but froze as the next sentence was uttered.

"But you still have to die!"

York remained indifferent, not bothering to see what the room's spirit had to say, firing the last five holy grenades from the revolver at the shadow on the wall.

Boom boom boom!!!

With each shot, the shadow shattered, and the wall's bricks were blasted away, revealing a modest-sized hole.

With a painful howl, York's face, usually impassive, finally showed a flicker of emotion as he glanced at the corner, silently holstering his gun and walking out of the dirty bathroom, decisive.

[Task: Exorcise the Room's Spirit (Completed)]

[Task Reward: +2 Attribute Points (Distributed)]

Meanwhile, on the first floor, a group controlled the designated VIP elevator.

The hotel's African-American manager and official officers like Jeffrey stood distinctly on either side.

Everyone was silent, waiting for the elevator light to turn on.

As the quiet atmosphere lingered, a hotel staff member approached the manager, Oliver, whispering a few words.

"Manager, that Mr. Mike who wanted to stay in Suite 1408 is still here. He even asked the front desk to reserve Suite 1408 for him when a guest checks out. He said he knows people have died in Suite 1408 and insists we are deceiving him by saying it's booked."

Oliver glanced at the staff member, scanning the crowd, finally resting on the unlit elevator indicator, whispering back.

"So, even knowing it's a death room, he's still waiting in the lobby?"

"Yes."

Oliver sighed internally, wondering why people seek death, especially knowing Suite 1408's history.

"Offer him a complimentary stay in the presidential suite to deter his unrealistic pursuit."

"Understood!"

The staff member responded quietly, preparing to leave, when the elevator indicator began to move, showing someone descending.

Everyone reacted, the officers like Jeffrey tensely watching the descending numbers, hands instinctively near their holstered guns.

"Wait!"

Oliver, instead, narrowed his eyes, stopping the staff member from leaving.

As they watched, the numbers dropped from fourteen to twelve, to eleven, and finally to one.

The crowd stepped back, holding their breath, focusing on the still-closed elevator doors.

Click!

As the doors began to slowly part, their anxiety peaked.

Finally, as the doors fully opened, revealing a priest inside, everyone relaxed.

___________________

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