Chapter 38: Revenge Does Not Wait for Daybreak

At the same moment.

The church, lit only by candlelight, remained dim.

Father York, now labeled a heretic by some, had reached the statue of Jesus. He made the sign of the cross before the statue and continued towards the resting room with his backpack.

Arriving in the resting room, Father York first approached the wardrobe. Opening it, which only contained a couple of priest's robes, he deftly pulled out a secret compartment at the bottom.

With the motion-sensor light illuminating, a hidden shelf embedded in the wall became visible.

The resting room was indeed for rest, but it also housed his small arsenal.

Being so cautious was necessary; he had offended too many demons, and it was hard to predict if any would seek revenge.

The shelf's layout resembled those in a home storage room, with layers upon layers filled with various firearms and ammunition.

The first layer held handguns, the second automatic rifles, the third shotguns, and the fourth submachine guns...

After meticulously categorizing and placing the firearms from his bag, Father York closed the secret compartment with a look of treasure and then the wardrobe door.

"Quitting time!"

Father York stretched his shoulders and walked out. Before leaving, he didn't forget to make the sign of the cross in front of the Jesus statue and said,

"Good night…"

This was his daily routine, and thus another day passed.

The night was uneventful, as usual. Father York, like a regular worker, left his house with a backpack and drove his Ford Raptor to the church.

In the morning, he listened to the woes of five parishioners, as usual.

Their troubles were nothing out of the ordinary – mostly everyday family matters, relationship issues, financial pressures, workplace dissatisfaction, and the hardships of raising children.

He gave advice and comfort according to their requests, like a central heating system warming everyone's hearts.

Unfortunately, no random mission was triggered.

As he was about to send off the last parishioner, Camille Benjamin, chairman of the Lans community committee, who had just calmed down from his consoling, suddenly said before leaving,

"Father, in a couple of days, the Lans community is holding a charity event. Could you come?"

Father York considered his upcoming personal schedule and didn't decline.

"If I'm available, I will come."

Ms. Camille nodded with a smile, holding her handbag. "I understand, Father. We'll have someone check."

"Mm."

Father York made the sign of the cross. "May the Lord bless you."

"Thank you for your support."

Camille also made the sign of the cross, nodded deeply in response, and then left the church under Father York's gaze.

After sending off the last parishioner, Father York returned to the main hall, taking out his constantly vibrating phone.

"..."

"Dear Father, I've sent the information about the Vance gang to your email..."

The message from Hannah, the information dealer, had finally arrived. He was almost too impatient for this information, having accepted all of old Brown's assets. He felt uneasy not taking revenge sooner.

Ignoring the cutesy tone in the message, Father York continued towards the resting room and sat down at the desk, turning on his laptop and opening the email application.

He logged into his personal account and opened Hannah's encrypted email, inputting the password.

With the password entered, a list appeared, showing names along with photos, very detailed. It included their locations, usual hangouts, and habits...

Looking at each name, Father York subconsciously remembered old Brown. His eyelids darkened, and he silently transferred $100,000 to Hannah.

That day, Father York hung a "Temporarily Unavailable, Please Forgive Me" sign and left the church with a backpack in his car.

...

Burgundy Bar, a bar that was still open during the day.

Although there were fewer customers than at night, many were gathered around the bar or seated at the tables, eating and drinking in a relatively calm atmosphere.

Three men sat in a corner of the bar, looking somber and heavy-hearted, pouring one drink after another into their mouths.

Their deadly aura was palpable, and no one dared to approach them.

Behind the bar, a middle-aged man wiping glasses glanced at the distant customers and then at the three men drinking sullenly.

"Drink less, don't ruin my business."

Bang!

The man in the middle, heavily bearded and hirsute, slammed his glass down angrily.

"Fk! Those damn DEA and COPS, they raided two of my spots!"

The barkeeper glanced at him, unapologetically blunt.

"Walden, lay low for now, wait for this storm to pass."

"I can't accept this!" Walden, seemingly the leader of the three, spoke gravely. "I must get this debt repaid!"

Saying this, Walden's cold gaze fixed on the middle-aged man.

"Did you find out who killed Felton and the others? If it weren't for the problem on Felton's end, this wouldn't have gotten so out of hand!"

The barkeeper paused his wiping, shook his head, then nodded.

"The storage devices at Felton's site were destroyed, but using the street cameras, we found a suspicious old man."

Walden's brow furrowed, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"Who is it?"

The barkeeper shook his head and resumed wiping glasses.

"The gang is still investigating, but it should be soon, in the next few days."

Walden took a deep breath, his teeth gritted in anger.

"Fine! I'll wait!!"

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

The barkeeper stopped wiping and looked up, about to greet the newcomer, but saw a man in a suit, hat, and mask entering, holding a paper and glancing in their direction.

The barkeeper frowned, instinctively sensing something was amiss. He yelled a warning to his companion.

"Walden!!!"

But in that instant, the man had already confirmed his targets and raised his already-prepared Beretta 92FS, aiming at the wide-eyed barkeeper and pulling the trigger.

Bang!

The barkeeper's forehead burst open, and he fell straight to the ground.

"Ah!!!"

"..."

With the gunshot, the bar's customers panicked, instinctively ducking and finding cover, creating chaos.

Meanwhile, alerted by the shout and gunshot, Walden and his companions were startled and tried to retaliate.

But they had lost the initiative. The man's gun was already aimed at them.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang!!!

The continuous gunfire left Walden and his men riddled with bullets, their bodies exploding in blood, and the wooden bar splintered from the bullet impacts.

After firing fourteen shots, leaving the three lifeless bodies on the shattered bar, the man shifted his aim to the cameras.

Bang Bang Bang!

With three shots, he destroyed the cameras, glanced at the trembling customers inside, and turned to leave quickly, disappearing from the scene...