Chapter 10: Even Jesus Can’t Save You

In just a few pieces of information, many issues were already evident.

First of all, where did the village chief get all those supplies?

According to him, the supplies were stored in advance to prevent famine. But with hundreds, maybe even a thousand people in the village, they still hadn't run out of food after three years. That seemed like an excessive stockpile.

Even if it were possible to store that much, where did the village chief get the money for it?

This world's setting resembled medieval Europe. Nobles controlled the majority of wealth and power, while commoners, often no more than laborers, serfs, or slaves, lived in poverty. The village chief might be the best hunter, but in this era, hunting didn't provide much income. So how did he manage to gather so many supplies?

Then there was the village priest.

The villagers had learned from him how to fight the werewolves. But there was something Rod found puzzling. According to the priest, werewolves were supposed to fear fire. Yet the werewolf Rod had encountered earlier hadn't been afraid of fire at all.

If the priest was lying, then why did the other werewolves fear fire? If the priest was telling the truth, why wasn't that particular werewolf afraid of fire?

"So confusing," Rod muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Clearly, he wasn't cut out for thinking. He much preferred simpler, more direct methods.

"If I can't figure it out, I'll just ask the people involved directly."

Rod patted the revolver and shotgun at his waist.

Armed with weapons, his natural killing intent emerged. With his current strength, he could kill werewolves easily, so why bother playing detective with a few ordinary people?

If something could be solved by force, there was no need to overthink it. Let instinct guide the way.

Inside the church, the prayer session had just ended. A group of villagers dropped small coins into the collection box as they began to leave.

On the platform, a priest in a black robe suddenly called out to a young girl in the crowd.

"Father, is something wrong?" the young girl asked, confused, staring at the priest's kind and benevolent face.

"My faithful child, I sense the presence of evil within you," the priest replied.

The girl's face immediately filled with panic. In this village, the priest held a position of great authority. He was the one who had taught the villagers how to fend off the werewolves, allowing them to live in peace.

Thus, she had no reason to doubt his words.

"What should I do?"

Seeing the fear on her face, the priest's smile grew even warmer. "Don't worry, my child. As a devoted servant of the Lord, it is my duty to help you cleanse the evil from your body."

"Come with me."

Nervous but grateful, the girl followed the priest into a hidden chamber at the back of the church.

The room was sealed, with no windows. Dim candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows across the dark room.

Inside was a large wooden bed with straps for binding limbs, a two-meter-high iron frame hanging with strange ropes, and a device resembling a guillotine, with spaces to secure both hands and the head. Below was a horizontal wooden board with two straps to bind the legs.

The walls were lined with various instruments of torture—whips, bloodstained thorny branches…

The girl looked at these bizarre objects, feeling increasingly uneasy. The oppressive darkness of the cramped room filled her with a strong sense of discomfort.

Fear gripped her heart, as she couldn't understand what the priest intended to do.

"Take off your clothes!"

The moment the door closed, the priest's benevolent smile twisted into something far more sinister and violent.

"Huh?"

Seeing the priest's strange expression, the girl hesitated, fear creeping back into her voice as she asked cautiously, "Why do I need to take off my clothes?"

"The evil demon has already entered your body. I need to cleanse it with holy water, and the only way to do that is through direct contact with your bare skin. Only then can the sacred power be infused," the priest said in a falsely gentle tone.

The girl, confused but trusting, nodded. Her fear began to fade as she started to remove her clothes.

Bang!

Suddenly, the door to the chamber was kicked open with a loud crash, casting a large shadow over the entire room.

Rod stood in the doorway, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes scanned the room before settling on the priest, who now looked like nothing more than a dog in human clothing.

"Tricking young girls was bad enough, but trying to pull off some BDSM act? Old man, you've got some nerve."

"Who are you? Don't you know this is a sacred church, a restricted area? Aren't you afraid of the Lord's wrath?" the priest stammered, panic flashing in his eyes as his secret was exposed. But he quickly tried to regain control, raising his voice in a desperate attempt to sound authoritative.

"The Lord's wrath?"

Rod smiled, but it was a cold, chilling smile that made the priest's heart race with fear.

"Even if Jesus himself showed up today, He couldn't save you. That's a promise."