Chapter 269: Michael

The screams of several women broke the quiet of the intersection, prompting the aftermath of gunfire to ensue.

People began to take notice of the area controlled by the Viper Gang, and some of their members rushed over from various places.

But what awaited them was nothing but a building full of corpses.

York and John Wick's operation was simply too swift, like picking up their own belongings without any hindrance from start to finish.

By the time they left, it seemed like the outside world, like slow-reacting robots, began to show the expected reactions and commotions.

Of course, whatever scene unfolded at the intersection, involving gang turf wars and so on, was irrelevant to York and John Wick.

They simply entered a regular shopping mall, starting to purchase items for the upcoming decorations at Pluto Church and the necessities Eileen required.

"John, let's split up. You take care of the pumpkin lanterns, purple and orange ribbons," York said, looking around the area filled with Halloween essentials, directing John Wick.

"Eh, and some decorative items for the venue, tombstones, bat toys, etc. I'll handle the snacks."

"Understood."

John Wick memorized the items to be purchased, nodded, and then headed towards his designated area.

York was left alone, looking towards the snack section.

"What exactly are the standard configurations for Halloween?"

He mumbled to himself as he walked over, but during festive seasons, malls typically display relevant products prominently.

"Firstly, the classic food is definitely pumpkin pie, which the kids also love as a sweet treat," York grabbed a shopping cart and first placed pumpkin pies in it.

"Then, cookies in various spooky shapes, decorated with icing."

"Plus caramel, chocolate, colorful candies, and apples. This combination can be used to make candy apples, appealing to adults attending the event as well."

"And long sandwiches that can be made to look like fingers with slices of olives or carrots as nails."

After adding these items to the cart, York thought he was about done.

However, he then stumbled upon a curious item in another section.

A blood-red beverage, the bottle adorned with disgusting eyeballs, even the straw was made to look repulsive.

"Creative," he thought, but decided against it, considering the church's event was aimed at children, and such a repulsive item was better left out.

"Father, hello."

As York was about to leave, a passerby greeted him.

"Happy Halloween."

"Thank you," York replied, "Happy Halloween to you too."

Aside from this passerby, York encountered several churchgoers greeting him along the way.

Overall, it was quite harmonious, which was one of the reasons York enjoyed being a priest.

Wearing the priest's robe almost always resulted in believers approaching him with greetings, even though they were not from his Pluto Church.

Religious influence is strong in this parallel world.

Waiting at the designated meeting point, York suddenly received greetings from several believers.

By the time John Wick arrived with his cart, York had already returned greetings to over a dozen people.

"Father."

Seeing York returning the greetings, John Wick was not surprised but felt it was as it should be.

"I've finished shopping."

York looked over, and John Wick's cart was also filled with various items.

"Let's go then. We have to set up the venue when we get back."

"Okay."

With that conversation, their shopping was complete.

However, unbeknownst to them, the gang-related issues were also fermenting at this time.

"..."

"Michael is dead."

In a distant house, supposed to be bathed in sunlight, all the doors and windows were covered with thick curtains.

In the dimly lit living room, five people sat around a table.

"The sculpted hand he had is gone."

One of the elders among them spoke with a heavy voice.

"But before he died, he sent me a photo."

He said, pulling out his phone and placing it on the table.

The other four took turns looking at the photo on the phone.

It was a photo of two men, though taken from surveillance footage, it was clear.

"A priest and a bodyguard, the sculpted hand must be with them," the elder said to the four sitting around the table.

"This priest, I don't know, but the bodyguard is strong, hitting vital points with every shot, either the forehead or the heart. Michael's men didn't fire a single shot, that's the situation from the scene."

The elder sincerely added, "We're probably no match for that bodyguard."

"So what?"

A woman's voice rose, the only female among the five spoke calmly, her tone full of confidence.

"We have Michael. Let him handle this, retrieve the sculpted hand for us."

"Michael?"

The rest hesitated, all looking towards the sofa on the right.

There, in the dimmest light, sat a man.

Tall and muscular, wearing a white rubber mask and a mechanic's jumpsuit, he exuded an indescribable presence, like a lifeless object devoid of any emotion.

This made him seem even larger than the sofa he sat on, making the room's atmosphere heavy.

"Yes!"

The woman at the table took a deep breath and said.

"He's a monster we created, isn't he? Since he could kill his sister due to a command given in his childhood and has since been driven to harm his kin, we can issue him a second command."

However, the elder with the phone looked at the woman and said sternly.

"He's not under our control! We didn't bring him out for this! He's a vessel! We need him to release more souls with the sculpted hand!"

"Yes! I know, but look at him. He seems like he needs commands to move. Yes, he hasn't awakened! I think we can try; it might work."

The woman licked her lips and pulled out a bizarre ornament from her chest, saying:

"This was left to me by my grandmother. According to her, it can be used to issue commands to him."

The elder frowned and exchanged looks with the others.

"We need to try! Awaken him! Otherwise, he'll just be a walking corpse!"

No one spoke, but the eldest, seemingly with the most seniority, still tried to dissuade.

"Your grandmother said he'd only accept a new command after completing the first command of annihilation..."

"This is a monster created by my grandmother after sacrificing to a demon god! I know everything! If my grandmother's command could be planted in his brain, then we can do the same,"

The woman interrupted the elder.

"Otherwise, how do you plan to awaken this monster? We've tried many methods."

Hearing this, the others, including the elder, frowned.

Michael had suffered fatal injuries but didn't die due to being an avatar of a demonic god,

But seemed to become a soulless zombie due to those fatal injuries, completely immobile.

"For years, no one has tried issuing a second command. We need change! Perhaps issuing a second command is the correct way to awaken him."

The woman turned to Michael, who sat motionless on the sofa, and said.

"We're just adding one more command. It doesn't affect or hinder the first command issued by my grandmother."

"Our purpose today is to awaken this monster, isn't it?"

The elder fell silent.

No one stopped her, and knowing the outcome, the woman boldly took

 the ornament in one hand and the phone in the other, addressing Michael.

"I know you're awake, just asleep. I won't stop your path of annihilation, even tell you news,

Your sister Laurie has given birth to two daughters, so you now have two more kin, two more targets."

"Now I'm about to issue you a second command, find and kill the two men in the photo, and retrieve the sculpted hand!"

As she spoke, Michael, who had been like a walking corpse, indifferent all along, suddenly stood up and walked towards the table, seemingly wanting to see the photo.

Mysteriously.

This surprised everyone present, almost unbelievably simple.

"Yes! That's it!"

The woman was excited, knowing the man's situation.

Her grandmother's creation, an avatar of a demon god, was a monster that could recover from any injury.

"Kill the two men in the photo!"

The woman, looking at Michael who had approached, raised the phone excitedly.

"Remember their faces!"

What she didn't know was that the elder at the table had already widened his eyes, staring dead at Michael.

The next second, a sudden snap caused panic throughout the room.

The man named Michael, wearing a white rubber mask, suddenly twisted the woman's neck, killing her as easily as squashing an ant.

Quick and precise, without any hesitation.

At that moment, other than the elder still seated, the younger members started to run, clearly understanding the situation.

"It's over. We shouldn't have tried."

The elder watched as Michael pursued the remaining three, a glimmer of despair in his eyes.

He knew what was happening.

The deeply implanted command also included a clause: those who obstruct the command must be killed! Essentially, this monster was merely a killing machine.

Since the monster had killed, it meant they had become the so-called obstructers or targets of the command.

"So, calling out the name of your kin awakens you."

The elder shook his head, watching as the monster quickly caught up to the nearest member, finally understanding the trigger.

"No, you've changed over the years, no, perhaps the second command was already implanted. Is this the price of issuing the command?"

A scream interrupted his murmuring.

After the second and third screams, the man returned to the table.

In his cold, emotionless eyes, the elder in front of him had committed suicide.

Without a word, he walked towards the kitchen on the right, found a long, sharp knife from the cabinet, took it, and slowly left, opening the door to the sunlight and heading towards the car parked in the front yard.

Due to Halloween, there were many people outside, but they mistook Michael, wearing a white rubber mask and holding a knife, for a Halloween cosplayer.

They assumed the sharp-looking knife was just a prop.

Until Michael got into the car, those passersby or neighbors who found it odd had no idea this man had just killed five people.

They only watched the car slowly drive away, then turned to the open but not closed house door, puzzled.

"..."

Pluto Church.

The yard, including the outside, was already set with models for some activities.

Some believers were helping with the decorations.

As time passed, occasionally, some believers joined to help.

Eileen was hanging pumpkin lanterns at the main entrance when a voice reached her ears.

"Sister Eileen."

Eileen instinctively looked over to see a woman with a capable air walking over with two girls.

"Good afternoon."

The woman greeted.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Laurie," Eileen replied warmly, recognizing the woman as an active believer in the church.

However, she knew some of the woman's story from older believers.

The gist was that Laurie's brother had killed their sister due to mental issues in childhood and was institutionalized.

Their parents also died in an accident, and Mrs. Laurie was fostered in a family nearby the community.

Since her foster parents were believers of Pluto Church, she became part of the believer community, continuing the tradition.

The most bizarre story was that Mrs. Laurie was targeted by a masked murderer during her school years, resulting in some of her friends being killed by the murderer.

Fortunately, the murderer didn't succeed, and Mrs. Laurie was saved…

Recalling these rumors, whether true or false, Eileen looked at Laurie with a touch of pity.

"Sister Eileen, I came specifically to help,"

Laurie looked at the increasingly shaped activity venue and asked.

"What can I do?"

She said, letting her two daughters go play with the other children.

Eileen snapped back to reality and thought for a moment: "Mrs. Laurie, I think we can wait for the Father to return, then…"

She stopped mid-sentence as her gaze passed Mrs. Laurie to the muscle pickup truck appearing at the intersection, changing her statement.

"Mrs. Laurie, look, the Father is just coming back."

The approximately forty-year-old Laurie instinctively turned to look.

The black pickup truck quickly approached, and she saw the Father getting out of the car and waving.

The community residents and believers who had come to help flocked towards him.

"Let's go help too, Mrs. Laurie," Sister Eileen said, noticing the pile of stuff on the truck bed and looking at the Father starting to direct with a smile.

"Okay." Mrs. Laurie nodded.

...

For a while, the activity venue, which had begun to stall due to a lack of props, entered a rapid pace of progress again.

The purchased items were integrated into the activity venue one by one.

Of course, the Halloween-specific toys purchased also attracted some local children.

The Halloween activity venue organized by Pluto Church became increasingly lively.

Until the decorations were completed, the hustle and bustle began to dissipate.

According to the adults, they were going back to dress up as characters like Snow White, knights, vampires, witches, magicians, etc., and then attend the event on time tonight.

"Eileen."

York watched the group leave to prepare, looking at the vast Halloween activity venue, smiling.

"Do you want to try cosplaying?"

"No, Father." Standing beside the Father, Eileen, who had been busy all day, refused with her hands clasped in front of her.

"I don't know how."

York then looked at John Wick.

"John? How about you, want to give it a try?"

John Wick was as calm as ever: "I also don't know how, Father."

"Alright then, I'll do it. I'll cosplay as a horned devil."

York shook his head, turned, and walked into the church, leaving a word behind.

"Sigh, it seems I must carry the burden alone."

This statement made both Eileen and John Wick's corners of their eyes twitch slightly, not knowing what to say, just speechless.

Seeing their expressions, York couldn't help but laugh, stepping into the church and casually adding today's 0.5 points to his life value.

[Life Value 191 raised to 191.5]

"Not far from the number two hundred."

Hearing the prompt and seeing no one in the church, York waved his hand, his telekinesis surging.

The sculpted hand resting in the lounge floated up and quickly flew into York's hand.

"I wonder what this sculpted hand will reveal to me."

York stared at the patterns and script on the sculpted hand, pondering.

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