Whether it's live streaming or any entertainment industry, there are always those who work behind the scenes and those who stand in the spotlight.
Compared to those behind the scenes, those in the spotlight are like the main characters under the lights, attracting the majority of fans.
Max, standing in front of Drew, was one of those spotlight figures, with fan numbers that far surpassed those of the behind-the-scenes staff.
Drew looked at the man in front of him and took another sip of his beer.
Although he had been in the streaming industry for a long time, the fans he had accumulated were ultimately drawn away by Max.
"Ok," Max was aware of this too as he began to search his phone to log into his social media to announce this.
As he searched, he asked, "Have you got everything ready?"
Drew nodded, unconcerned, "Of course, ever since that random ban, I've had people working on this."
Max's eyes revealed a mysterious look as he pulled out his phone from under a pillow and started tapping various commands.
This so-called partner had everything good about him, except that he viewed Max as a simpleton, treating him, the frontman, like a kite in his hands, easily controlled.
"But that's just as well."
Max looked at his phone screen, where his latest posts were filled with fans asking what was going on, why the stream room was banned, when he would stream again, and if he could still stream, among other comments.
Max's mouth curved into a slight smile as he looked at the follower count below his account.
Over 1.4 million followers, enough to call him a major streamer.
"Enough," Max thought to himself.
Seeing Max find his phone, Drew leaned in.
"What should we say?" Max asked indifferently.
Looking at the comments below, Drew felt a surge of excitement, feeling increasingly fond of these eager fans, as he saw them as his ATMs.
"Here, give me the phone."
Drew placed his beer on the table and reached out his hand.
Max looked at him, sensing something, and handed over his phone without editing the comment.
Drew took it and started editing quickly.
In Max's view, Drew first edited a website link, indicating the platform they would stream on, then continued writing that they would stream at ten o'clock tonight.
"Streaming at ten tonight?" Max asked.
"Of course, we need to capitalize on this momentum while it lasts." Drew posted the edited comment and watched the comments that followed, his face breaking into a smile.
Then, looking at Max, he put his hands on his shoulders and said seriously.
"Don't worry, Max, I've got everything ready. Just stay home today and prepare for tonight's journey as a priest."
Max glanced at the hands on his shoulders, his smile bright.
"Okay."
Seeing Max so compliant, Drew chuckled, patted Max's shoulder, picked up the beer bottle from the table, and walked away.
Watching Drew's departing figure, Max's previously beaming face instantly turned fierce.
"Foolish humans."
Cold words fell from his mouth.
...
Meanwhile.
Vatican City.
Two men dressed in simple yet distinctly bishop-like robes walked along a luxuriously decorated corridor.
One was tall and imposing, the other older, exuding an indescribable aura. As they walked, every clergy member they encountered stopped and bowed in respect.
"Bishop York, Bishop Cecil..."
Bishop Cecil nodded slightly, then turned to York.
"Are you sure that what you brought from another world will be useful? You know, even our Holy Spring can only maintain the status quo."
York, just arrived from Argentina, glanced at the clergy who had bowed and left, and responded calmly.
"We have to try anyway."
Recalling the divine object he had found in the world of Chaos, York sighed.
But he didn't have much confidence.
Bishop Cecil's Holy Spring was a relic of the church. Legend had it that God bathed in it when he was injured, possessing great miraculous effects, including healing powers.
The divine object York found was called the Heart of the Sacred Tree, a very rare artifact with potent healing properties for various wounds and diseases, and even the effect of prolonging life.
He had obtained this from the titans.
"That's true." Cecil sighed involuntarily.
"Although the medical data shows that His Holiness' condition is stable, I can feel the loss of power in his body. York, you must know what this means..."
York's face tightened, fully aware of the implications.
The loss of divine power meant that the pope's own holy power was fading. Once all the vitality-sustaining holy power was lost, the pope would indeed be on his way to heaven.
Without hearing a response, Bishop Cecil looked at York, whose face was grim, shook his head, and led him to the pope's chamber.
Six monks guarded the door.
"Bishop York, Bishop Cecil..."
C
ecil nodded slightly: "Open the door."
"Yes!"
The monk at the door immediately opened it.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the true appearance of the room inside.
York felt the strong holy power emanating from inside.
From his perspective, everything in the room had been modified with holy stones.
Recalling Cecil's earlier words, York knew this was to slow the rate of holy power loss in the pope.
Thinking this, York's mood was rather downcast. He nodded to the monks standing by, then followed Bishop Cecil inside without any expression.
The room's layout was unchanged from when he had last seen it.
An old man lay with closed eyes on a large bed, with various electrodes attached to his body and connected to external devices.
The overall scene resembled that of a critically ill old man in an ICU.
Looking at the old man with closed eyes and only a heartbeat, York took a deep breath and continued to follow Cecil.
"Do I need to leave, York?" Cecil bowed slightly to the old man, then turned to the stoic York.
"No need,"
York shook his head, and under Cecil's watchful eye, took out a transparent box from his robe containing a green leaf radiating visible green light.
"I need you here to witness this."
York opened the box and handed it to Cecil.
Cecil understood, took the box to examine it carefully, and after a moment, took a deep breath and said.
"Indeed, it's the Heart of the Sacred Tree."
He handed the box back to York, excitedly indicating his agreement for the pope to use it.
York nodded, took back the box, and without hesitation, placed the Heart of the Sacred Tree into the pope's mouth.
As the leaf entered the pope's mouth, it disappeared instantly, and a green glow could be seen moving from his throat to his chest and settling around his abdomen.
Simultaneously, the pope's previously parched skin began to appear more supple, a sign that the Heart of the Sacred Tree was taking effect and improving his condition.
Seeing this, Cecil grew excited and moved closer to sense it.
"It seems His Holiness' condition has stabilized!" he exclaimed.
York nodded but frowned, puzzled why the pope had not yet awakened.
Logically, with no injuries or abnormalities, the pope should have woken up immediately. However, the old man appeared to be unconscious, like a true vegetative state.
"Unconscious?"
This thought tightened York's frown. Combining this with earlier doubts, he stared at the still-unawakened pope, suspecting something.
"This isn't just an empty shell, is it? The real pope might have already left."
This thought made York even more convinced of his theory. He had long suspected that the pope was not from this world but another, which would explain his resilience against the destructive energies of the rift.
But no one could answer these questions, not even Cecil, who looked at the still-unconscious pope without finding any reason.
For a moment, the two stood watching the old man on the bed, helpless.
"I'll call someone to check on him," Cecil sighed.
"Yes, that's all we can do." York, calmed by his hypothesis, watched the pope and said calmly.
"As long as we can stabilize the holy power in His Holiness, there's still time."
His Heart of the Sacred Tree was not without effect; it had stabilized the leaking holy power, as evidenced by the pope's increasingly supple skin.
While still unsure of the full truth, York believed that the current situation was intentionally caused by the pope.
Cecil, watching the motionless figure on the bed, nodded in agreement.
...
An hour later, the setting shifted to a private jet bound for the free and prosperous United States.
Cecil glanced at Sister Erin and Brother Hill loading items onto the plane, then turned to York.
"York, you're not really going to rest, are you? Can you tell me your plans?"
"I don't really have any plans. After officiating a wedding for a child I know well, I'll see what to do."
York watched Erin approaching and replied calmly.
After confirming the pope's condition, York realized he didn't have much else to do, meaning his favorite lazy days were returning, so his mood was quite good.
Cecil could only nod in response, looking at the approaching nun.
"Bishop Cecil."
Erin, dressed in a nun's habit, bowed to Cecil, who nodded, then turned to her bishop.
"Bishop York, everything is ready."
Hearing this, York looked at the very efficient Erin and smiled warmly.
"Alright, then let's go."
"Yes!"
Erin nodded, standing by.
York then nodded slightly to Cecil.
"Bishop Cecil, goodbye."
Cecil, watching one of the most unique young men in the church, replied, "Goodbye."
York's expression unchanged, he walked towards the plane, with Erin pausing last to bow to Cecil and the other clergy
before following her bishop onto the plane.
Cecil and his group remained, watching the plane.
Shortly after, with a roar, the plane began to move slowly toward the runway and took off into the dark sky, becoming a small dot.
"Let's go back," Cecil said, watching the dot merge into the night, leading his group away.
On the plane.
York sat in his seat, looking out the window at the city lights below, forming a beautiful nightscape.
This was the view of ordinary people; from his perspective, he could see the backs of Cecil and his clergy leaving.
Before he could think further, Erin's voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Bishop, should we inform the colleagues in the New York diocese?"
York withdrew his gaze, thought for a moment, and shook his head.
"No need, we're just going back to rest and clear our minds, not to do anything; let it be."
To ensure this, he had specifically asked Cecil to conceal his whereabouts.
Otherwise, the New York diocese might have to make adjustments because of his return.
He just wanted to visit the Pluto Church, and with his current status, he couldn't be as casual as a regular priest anymore; every move he made would affect many others.
"Alright, Bishop." Erin's voice fell, and she disappeared.
York smiled, closed his eyes, and settled in for the journey.
___________________
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