Exorcist in America

Lost Town, nominally a small town, benefited from the wealth and population of its residents, and thus had a police station of reasonable size.

Although Chief Thomas was employed and elected by the residents, he indeed had quite a few police officers working under him.

The police station, with nearly twenty veteran officers, five police cars, and even two Harley motorcycles, could match a substation in a bustling urban area.

At this moment, the nominal head of the Lost Town police station, Chief Thomas, was not in a good mood.

As the chief responsible for the town's public order, he was well aware of every blade of grass and every face in the town.

Since that night, he had inexplicably been particularly concerned about York and his group of outsiders.

Calls from the innkeeper, the shop owners, and even nearby residents were common.

However, these calls paled in comparison to the current one.

Even if Sacre called to say they found substantial evidence in a cabin in the woods proving that the man last night was indeed the perpetrator of a missing persons murder case, it wasn't on his mind at the moment.

"You're saying that man is actually one of the church's people?" Thomas spoke gravely.

"A bishop?"

He stood in his office facing the window, the sun casting his expression into sharp relief.

"Yes."

The voice on the phone carried a hint of unease.

"I've just received orders from the West Virginia Cathedral."

With these words, Thomas's expression darkened further.

"They want us to assist this bishop."

"What are they planning to do?" Thomas asked the phone sternly.

"I don't know, Thomas," came the reply after a pause.

"But, Thomas, if it's this bishop, he might be able to help us."

Thomas recalled his encounter last night; the seemingly young man in his twenties was indeed a memorable figure.

"York John, a newly appointed bishop of the church, is a respected person."

In a dim hall, a nun wearing a black robe and a black scarf with white edges sat on a chair, holding a cross, and spoke.

"Rumor has it that the bishop is a humble and upright man. As a seminarian, he was noted for single-handedly killing a possessed cardinal with a sword. His actions are unpredictable."

These words traveled through the phone to the Lost Town police station. Hearing such astonishing achievements, Thomas couldn't help but take a deep breath, understanding the meaning behind Mother Gillian's words.

"Yes, Thomas, I've said so much," Mother Gillian stood from her chair and walked towards the window.

"I'm just saying that without Lady Alessa, we can't shake this bishop, nor can we stop him. Thankfully, it's this bishop who has come; he should be able to understand us."

Thomas was silent for a moment, "Is this the decision of you and Father Clifton?"

"Yes," Mother Gillian replied calmly.

"They're here now."

From her special vantage point, she could see the trio approaching in the distance.

Leading them was the legendary bishop whose reputation she knew well, even though she was a very remote clergy member.

That wasn't an issue; she was mentally prepared to face the bishop, but the mother and daughter behind him made her shudder involuntarily.

"I see Lady Alessa, Thomas."

With that statement dropping like thunder, Thomas widened his eyes, ending with,

"I understand."

Mother Gillian hung up the phone and watched as the three people slowly approached the monastery below the window. She straightened her scarf and habit before pursing her lips and walking slowly toward the main door.

Unbeknownst to her, the approaching York had glanced up at the window where she had just stood and then slightly narrowed his eyes.

Though he saw, York pretended not to have seen anything, only leading Ross and her daughter towards the monastery that now appeared before them.

However, through the holographic image, he saw the old nun who had been at the window now appearing in the main hall on the first floor, leading a few nuns towards the entrance.

"It seems these people have already made their choice," York thought to himself.

From the old nun's demonstrated information, he roughly knew what their decision was.

Thinking this, York glanced at Sharon, who was innocently licking her lollipop.

No matter what, thanks to that lollipop, he was determined to keep Sharon safe.

Things like splitting or merging were not within his considerations.

Having made up his mind, York led Ross and her daughter to the entrance of Monray Monastery.

Just as they were about to stop and knock on the tightly closed door, it suddenly swung open.

Ross was startled and instinctively hugged her daughter.

Only York remained standing still, his gaze following the opening door and resting on the leading old nun.

His first impression was of a person nearing the end of her life, barely holding on.

The holy power left in the old nun was so faint it only allowed her to

 walk like a person in her seventies or eighties without seeming ill.

Most importantly, this residual holy power also suggested that the old nun in front of him was probably a devout clergy member, which in a world of gods and demons generally meant she was a good person.

"Bishop York."

While York was sizing her up, Mother Gillian bowed slightly, respectfully saying.

"York Bishop."

York took another look at the nuns behind the old nun who were also bowing their heads and said indifferently.

"It seems you've received the orders from the West Virginia Cathedral."

Mother Gillian did not raise her head, replying respectfully.

"Yes, Bishop York, we will assist you in your tasks."

"Hehe," York chuckled.

"Since that's the case, first tell me everything about Silent Hill."

With that, York paused for a moment, and before the old nun could respond, he continued indifferently.

"Mother Gillian, you know what I mean, I'm here for the sake of this child."

Mother Gillian fell silent for a moment, "Yes, please follow me."

With that, she raised her head, changed her position, and gestured in a certain direction.

York stepped forward.

Seeing this, Ross hurriedly led Sharon, who was clueless and merely curious about the old nun, to follow.

The group, led by the instructions, eventually reached a spacious church.

On the way, Sharon always looked at Mother Gillian, who was leading them.

For some reason, Sharon felt this kindly old lady seemed very familiar, unsure where she had seen her before.

Her unusual demeanor was also noticed by Ross, who was always observant, causing her to unconsciously frown while looking at Mother Gillian.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she thought, all she could come up with was that it was this old nun who had sent Sharon to the Vor orphanage where she and Chris had adopted her.

Thinking of this, Ross unconsciously looked at the priest in front of her and felt something was amiss.

Why was it that a mere priest, in the mouth of this old nun, had become a bishop?

This change was somewhat unexpected.

Fortunately, having become somewhat familiar with Father York, she wouldn't show her confusion in such a setting.

"Ms. Ross, you and your daughter wait here for me," York spoke up at this moment.

Knowing too much about these inconceivable things would not be good for Ross and others.

After all, they were ordinary people living in a peaceful society, with well-established worldviews, so it was better to keep them away from extraordinary matters, which could greatly affect their lives.

Ross paused, looking at the stopping priest.

York nodded.

Sensing the priest's undeniable tone, Ross took a deep breath, sneaked a peek at the silent old nun, and then led Sharon, who was still holding a large lollipop, to the right row of benches.

Seeing this, York continued forward, with Mother Gillian silently following.

The two stopped in a large open space below the high altar, facing each other under the light cast from the image of Jesus.

Casually blocking the surroundings and creating a space that prevented sound from escaping, York looked at the silent old nun and calmly said.

"Mother Gillian, you can speak now, right?"

Mother Gillian glanced at Sharon in the distance, who was chatting with Ross, sighed, and said.

"Bishop York, you've already reached this point."

York didn't speak but took out several pieces of paper from his pocket and handed them over.

Mother Gillian was stunned for a moment, then took them.

The first sheet she looked at made her hands tremble.

It depicted a group of people worshipping a girl's statue, with many animal carcasses below.

These were her ancestors.

Holding back the emotions bursting inside her, Mother Gillian continued to tremble as she flipped to the next sheet.

The second sheet depicted a ruin aflame, with dark-skinned people lying in pools of blood, and in front of these people were white-skinned people holding red guns.

What brought tears to Mother Gillian's eyes was the statue weeping behind the dark-skinned people who lay in blood.

These were her ancestors protecting the statue, never retreating, never fleeing.

In silence, Mother Gillian barely managed to turn over the third sheet.

The third depicted a prosperous town under darkness, where a group of mad, white-skinned people were conducting some research.

These were the descendants of the second sheet's killers of the indigenous people, who had discovered the truth and magical power of Silent Hill.

Seeing this, Mother Gillian knew that the bishop in front of her probably already knew all the facts, and she continued to the fourth sheet.

The fourth sheet depicted a group of white-skinned people forcing Silent Hill's mysterious power into a dark-skinned pregnant woman, only managing to implant a small portion of the pure white power.

The majority, which was rejected outside, was all twisted darkness.

The fifth sheet

 depicted the dark-skinned woman giving birth to a female infant, with all black hands around the infant.

The sixth sheet depicted the grown infant, but she was accused of being a witch.

One by one, Mother Gillian finally stopped and looked up at the young bishop silently observing the image of Jesus, her voice rough.

"Bishop York, you already knew everything."

York looked at the image of Jesus, not turning to the old nun, and calmly said.

"I know some things, but what I don't understand is, what exactly do your indigenous deities want from me?

And what role do you descendants of the indigenous people living in Lost Town play?

What exactly happened in that great fire back then?

Because of these three questions, I came to Monray Monastery."

With these words, Mother Gillian clenched her teeth, showing no hesitation, and suddenly tried to kneel.

But she found herself supported by an invisible force at her knees, unable to kneel no matter how hard she tried.

"You just need to answer me, don't make this so awkward." York gestured towards Ross and her daughter sitting in the farthest row of benches.

Mother Gillian also glanced at Ross, who was looking their way, took a deep breath, and then spoke earnestly and somewhat pleadingly.

"Bishop York, please help us, help Lady Alessa."

York, seeing the pleading look on the old nun's face, felt as if his lifespan had been slightly shortened. Just as he was about to say something, the ever-present holographic image showed him a group of people rushing towards the monastery.

Thomas, some seemingly wealthy residents, and a priest in clerical robes, about forty or fifty years old, along with monks in monastic robes.

A total of sixteen people.

"These people are probably all the real core of Lost Town," York thought.

Then looking at the pleading old nun in front of him, he sighed.

"First tell me everything, then I can decide whether to help you. After all, I'm here for Sharon's sake, and since she's connected to you."

Mother Gillian, sensing the softening tone of the young bishop in front of her, felt a spark of hope.

——

"Ah, how's the discussion going inside?"

Dressed in a police uniform, Thomas looked at the closed room and couldn't help but sigh.

Then, somewhat anxiously pacing back and forth, he said.

"Thomas, please, can you stop moving?"

Perhaps it was because Thomas had walked back and forth too many times, causing annoyance among the others.

A middle-aged man couldn't help but speak up.

"With Mother Gillian and Father Clifton inside, we'll eventually know the outcome."

"That's true, but I can't help it," Thomas scratched his face, looking somewhat worried at the closed door.

"You know, this might be our last chance, even possibly an opportunity created for us by Lady Alessa."

"."

"So that's how it is." York stood with his hands behind his back by the window, looking out at the scenery with some emotion.

"I know the situation now."

Behind him, an elderly nun, likely over a hundred years old, had tears all over her face, and even the old priest in his forties or fifties had reddened eyes.

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