Chapter 231: On a Whim

"Just like with the unidentified female corpse? Focused on trouble? After all, cults aren't that easy to destroy, and those cultists are too good at hiding."

York stared at the mission name on the virtual window, silently accepting the task in his mind. Sixty-five points were within his control; he could discern that events beyond his capabilities and extremely dangerous to his life were assessed when the task rewards exceeded his highest values.

[Acceptance Successful]

Listening to the successful addition prompt, York stood up and walked towards the side path to his right.

"Meet force with force, water with earth. Act according to the situation."

Leaving these words behind, a few minutes later, York picked up his usual large backpack, equipped with a knight's sword, and walked out of the dark side path.

Compared to before.

This time the focus was on bombing, with most of the backpack filled with accumulated holy hand grenades and timed bombs.

Given his current strength, he could now turn into a huge cannon, although the bullets and shells were holy hand grenades.

Besides holy hand grenades and bombs, this time he replaced the Ryan Revolver, which only had five bullets, with his usual Beretta 92, known as the M9 in the United States, with a magazine capacity of 15+1 rounds.

Caliber 9mm, total length 217mm, total weight 975g.

The reason for choosing this gun over the Ryan Revolver was mainly due to the psychological change after the cave incident.

This time, he saved the trouble of reloading. If he had used this equipment in that cave, he wouldn't have needed to personally enter the fray; just changing magazines would have been enough to easily eliminate all the monsters inside.

And for him, this pistol represented the pinnacle of handgun aesthetics.

In other words, his strength had evolved to the point where he began to prioritize appearance and convenience.

So, this time his backpack was filled only with magazines loaded with holy bullets, holy hand grenades, and holy timed bombs.

Walking out, he saw Erin coming into the church from outside.

"Father York, there's a car outside."

She understood what was going on just by looking at the backpack in the priest's hands.

York knew what she meant and walked over to stand beside her.

"The Pluto Church is in your hands, Erin."

Erin pursed her lips: "Father, do you need me to accompany you?"

York smiled, patting her thin shoulder: "No need, I'll be back soon."

Saying this, York strode out of the church's main entrance towards the waiting car outside.

Erin stood there, silently watching the priest leave, with the Pluto Church lit by candlelight behind her.

York was surprised when, just as he reached the sidewalk ready to open the car door to go to the airport, John Wick appeared from the right corner.

"John."

York first threw his backpack in, then waited a moment.

John Wick, carrying bags big and small, stopped to observe the priest and the car in front, then nodded.

"Father York, where are you heading?"

"To Thailand, on a trip," York replied calmly, smiling at John's load of bags: "What have you bought?"

John Wick shifted his gaze from the car's driver back to York.

"Ingredients needed for tomorrow's breakfast event."

Saying this, John seriously asked: "Do you need me to come with you?"

Hearing this again, York smiled: "No need, take good care of the Pluto Church while I'm away, John."

John was silent for a while, then seriously said: "I will, Father."

York felt this seriousness meant John would protect the Pluto Church and its people at any cost, even his life.

"See you later, John." York didn't need to say much more; he got into the car and casually closed the door.

John nodded: "Okay, Father."

Hearing the response, York smiled and calmly said to the driver: "Let's go."

"Yes, Father York."

The car slowly moved forward, driving into the light that dispersed the darkness.

York glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing John Wick standing still, watching until they disappeared from view.

Turning his gaze away, York took out his phone and dialed Ms. Camille's number.

Knowing the practices of the satanic cult, he had thought of Saxon's girlfriend early on.

After all, Amelia's conditions perfectly matched the requirements of the satanic cult.

Better safe than sorry.

Many events coincidentally happen all at once.

In any case, he believed his whim, having thought of Amelia, a woman with the ability to see ghosts, upon seeing the information, meant there was a connection.

For someone like him, such whims weren't merely whimsical but a premonition that something connected Amelia to the situation.

"If I could see Amelia's special abilities through the video, so could the people from the satanic cult."

York narrowed his eyes, seeing the call connect on his phone screen, then brought the phone to his ear and directly asked.

"Ms. Camille? Could you give me Saxon's phone number? Or even Amelia's phone number would do."

......…

While York and Ms. Camille were talking, the two protagonists mentioned were in a jewelry store in a mall, buying gifts for Ms. Camille.

"Will your mother like this?" Amelia held an exquisitely carved artifact, filled with gold threads and in Thai style, asking.

Saxon thought for a moment: "She does like some decorative items."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, placing the carving on a tray handed by the staff, "Then let's reserve this one, and buy a few more. Let's pick some more." Saying this, she pointed to another intricate, gold and silver wooden carving under the glass counter for the staff to take out.

Just then, Saxon's phone rang.

Amelia had just received the carving from the staff and was distracted by the ringtone.

"Unknown caller." Saxon glanced at the phone screen.

"Although it's a local number, I don't know who it is."

Amelia smiled gently: "Answer it, it might be a friend who changed their number. After all, not just anyone knows your number."

Saxon nodded, swiping the green answer icon. As the son of a wealthy family, even one of the heirs to a family fortune, his phone number was naturally divided into several categories, with personal numbers generally only known to family and friends.

However, what surprised him was the voice that came through the phone, a voice only Father York could produce, filled with magic and a sense of security, and unmistakably magnetic.

The caller turned out to be Father York.

"Saxon?"

Recognizing the priest's voice immediately, Saxon was momentarily stunned.

"Hm?"

Without doubt, Saxon quickly responded: "Father York! I'm here."

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