Eileen was somewhat cautious.
But somehow, seeing her assigned priest looking like this, Eileen felt her previously choked heart start to settle, and the suffocating tension began to soften.
Perhaps Father York wasn't the cold-hearted priest she had imagined.
"Yes."
York responded, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the novice nun.
He began to understand the old man's arrangement.
In his perception, this novice nun naturally emitted a calming aura, reminiscent of the Virgin Mary's sanctity.
"You already know where you'll be assigned, right?"
York observed her expressions and demeanor closely.
Fortunately, the novice nun passed the test, maintaining clarity and calmness despite uncertain prospects.
She nodded earnestly.
"I understand that I will accompany you to Saint Cata Monastery and assist you in your work at Pluto Church."
"Since you're aware, then there's no need for further discussion."
York glanced at the central figure of Jesus, turned, and walked away.
"Let's go; we're about to depart."
York's brisk attitude left Eileen momentarily stunned, but she quickly followed his disappearing figure, taking deep breaths to catch up.
Noticing the footsteps behind him, York glanced sideways.
The young novice nun had caught up, trying to match his pace while suppressing her breath.
Seeing her struggle to breathe, York's lips curled slightly. To become a nun at Pluto Church, she'd need to improve her physical fitness.
With the thought of training her, York led her to Archbishop Rovshan's location.
In a spacious office filled with sacred attributes.
"It seems you're pleased, York?"
Archbishop Rovshan, sitting behind a luxurious desk, looked at the novice nun a few meters behind the priest, gasping for air with a rising and falling chest, and spoke calmly.
"However, she's still just a novice nun. You must consider her capabilities."
York remained unfazed, "Archbishop Rovshan, I'll handle it myself."
"Alright, she's your nun at Pluto Church, so it's up to you."
Archbishop Rovshan withdrew his gaze, not saying more, as a single comment was enough. He pulled out a folded map and a document from a drawer, sliding them across the desk.
"Here's the map to Saint Cata Monastery, and the helicopter is arranged in the backyard."
York smiled, accepting the map with a respectful nod.
"Thank you for your help, Archbishop Rovshan."
The old man smiled back, waving his hand.
"Go on, I'll await your news."
With the map in hand, York led Eileen to his room.
"Tired?"
Hearing her heavy breathing, York looked back at Eileen, offering.
"If you're tired, you can rest here."
But what York didn't know was that his words sparked Eileen's competitiveness. She caught her breath, shook her head firmly, and stated.
"Father York, if there's anything I can help with, please instruct me."
"Then, please take this backpack and these to the helicopter in the backyard."
York handed her a backpack containing the RPG-7 rocket launcher, weighing about seven or eight kilograms, with a calm demeanor.
"It might be heavy, do your best."
Eileen glanced at the tall priest, accepting the backpack. The feelings she had earlier vanished.
Feeling the weight of the backpack and seeing the other bags indicated by the priest, Eileen earnestly said.
"Okay, Father York, I'll do my best."
"Good."
York showed a rare satisfied expression, taking out his phone and walking out.
Eileen bit her lip, watching the priest stride away, then carrying the backpack towards the backyard.
"This is a test from God," she thought.
On a bustling street.
A sleek, imposing Harley-Davidson motorcycle weaved rapidly through traffic.
The roaring engine and blaring songs drew sideways glances from drivers and pedestrians alike.
But its rider didn't care, even taking out his phone, set to vibrate, with one hand.
"Hello! Father York."
He shouted, fearing the other end couldn't hear him.
The call connected, and York heard the speeding wind and blasting music, moving the phone away from his ear.
"Are you ready?"
Hili's voice came through immediately.
"Almost there! I'll be there soon!"
Indeed, at a certain intersection, the sleek, black Harley turned into another street.
Hili looked up at the church spire ahead, calling out.
"Father York, I can see the church now."
"Okay!"
York hung up, glancing at the monk guarding the gate, grateful for his assistance, knowing Hili's distinct presence might have been stopped otherwise.
Without further thought, a rumbling engine sound approached.
Vroom, vroom!
York instinctively looked over.
A bold, black Harley motorcycle entered his view.
Vroom, vroom!
Seeing both the Harley and its rider, Hili, exuding arrogance, York's lips twitched.
This guy was as flamboyant as ever.
"Father York!"
Hili, visibly excited, raised his hand and waved vigorously, shouting without regard for the setting.
"Father York!"
His voice overshadowed the engine noise.
York glanced again at the monk by the door, frowning, and couldn't help feeling a headache.
This was a problem child.
And as Hili got closer, York even heard the lyrics.
Living it up in the city.
Put on canvas shoes, carry a branded bag, I'm almost in love with myself, just so cool.
I'm just that sexy, call the cops, firefighters to cool me down.
I'm just that sexy, my temper is quenched by my handsomeness.
I'm just that sexy, shout my name, you know who I am
I'm just that sexy, I'm destined for greatness...
The catchy song approached, until the Harley stopped right in front of him.
York looked at Hili, dressed in a denim vest and jeans, wearing black sunglasses, and a colorful scarf around his neck, smiling widely, and couldn't help but pat his back.
With a smack, York's resigned voice followed.
"You, I never dared to be as bold as you when I was young."
___________________
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