At the same time.
The crowded Pluto Church had entered the prayer segment.
In front of the congregation, a variety of foods were laid out to cater to different tastes, presented as a buffet-style breakfast. Some had simple bread and cereal, others had eggs and porridge, and some just had fruits or coffee and tea.
"Dear God, thank you for giving us this wonderful day and for the provision of food."
"In this gathering, we feel Your presence and blessing. May this breakfast become an opportunity for us to get to know each other, share, and unite."
"Bless this food to nourish our bodies, and bless this gathering to strengthen our communication and friendships."
"In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen."
After the prayer, all the believers exchanged smiles.
In a corner.
Geoffrey, dressed in casual clothes and temporarily setting aside all cases, opened his eyes and looked at the person next to him. To his surprise, Beck, who had always been skeptical about faith, now had a look of devotion on his face.
Geoffrey shook his head and picked up a piece of bread from the table, enjoying a breakfast he hadn't had in a long time.
"Cough!"
Beck, sensing Geoffrey's gaze, maintained his composure despite his flushed face. He picked up a piece of bread too, but his eyes wandered to the girl next to Sister Eileen. He nudged his wife, who was happily chatting and eating.
"Wife, who is that girl next to Sister Eileen? I haven't seen her before."
"She?" Mrs. Hardy casually replied, "Seems like she's a new staff member recruited by Father York. Oh, no, she's a child Father York took in yesterday."
Hearing this, Beck tore off a piece of his bread and exchanged a glance with Geoffrey, looking around for Father York and continuing.
"I see. Speaking of which, why isn't Father York here today?"
He and Geoffrey hadn't just come to the breakfast event to relax.
But to his surprise, his wife seemed impatient and glared at him.
"How would I know? Stop bothering me!"
With that, she turned away and, like a chameleon, put on a smile again and continued chatting with the other believers.
Seeing this stark difference in treatment, Beck felt his position in the family was in jeopardy. But he dared not protest and instead turned to Geoffrey, who was quietly eating his bread.
"Buddy, looks like Father York isn't here today, a wasted trip."
After saying this, Beck whispered, "And about what just happened, pretend you didn't notice. That way, we can still be good friends and colleagues."
Geoffrey ignored him and continued eating.
Beck sighed in relief: "Fine, your silence means you agree. Let's ask Sister Eileen after breakfast to confirm. If Father York isn't here, we'll..."
Before Beck could finish, Geoffrey's phone vibrated. He frowned slightly and answered the call. Beck shut his mouth.
"Chief, something's happened! We just learned that everyone in the autopsy department has died under mysterious circumstances."
Geoffrey's brow furrowed deeply, and he glanced at Beck.
"Seal the scene, no one gets in or out until I return."
After hanging up, Geoffrey stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth.
"A situation?" Beck asked.
Geoffrey nodded, picked up his jacket from the chair, and quietly headed towards the main entrance.
Beck's face also turned grim. He looked at his wife, who seemed to have noticed something and was looking at him worriedly.
"Husband?"
"It's nothing." Beck smiled, watching Geoffrey almost reach the door. He grabbed his jacket, kissed Mrs. Hardy on the forehead, and said, "You just enjoy what you love doing."
Leaving Mrs. Hardy behind, Beck followed Geoffrey, trying to leave the church without drawing attention...
Under these circumstances, a black police car quickly left the scene, heading straight for the city center.
"So what exactly is going on?" Beck asked while fastening his seatbelt.
Geoffrey, with a grave expression, stared ahead. "Last night's case, seems like another supernatural event."
Beck frowned.
"The unidentified female body moved into the autopsy department last night, and this morning we received notice that all the forensic doctors and officers present last night died under mysterious circumstances, with no survivors."
"M3 shotgun, 12-gauge, 8-round magazine capacity, with an added pump-action mechanism for quick switching between semi-automatic and pump-action modes..."
In the pristine white room, York let Howard Martin introduce the weapons, casually handling a shotgun before putting it back in place.
Perhaps because he recently ordered a batch of heavy weapons, the firearms in front of him were now of the more lethal variety, such as the M203 grenade launcher, the M134 Gatling gun, the M500 heavy revolver...
If it were before, York might have been fascinated, but now he was more focused on holy grenades and bombs, given that his holy grenades could match the impact of a bursting holy bullet with his strength.
Thus, firearms had become somewhat redundant for him.
Under Howard Martin's expectant gaze, York picked up a grenade launcher, briefly inspected it, and then indifferently put it back.
"The guns are good."
Howard Martin raised his eyebrows. "Father, you don't like them?"
"It's not that," York said, looking at the new, mechanically aesthetic firearms on the shelf. "It's just that my underground storage is already full."
Howard Martin smiled warmly. "That makes sense, given your recent order."
York thought for a moment. "Howard, next time prepare more powerful bombs for me. The more powerful and portable, the better."
Howard Martin was taken aback, not sure why the priest needed such items, but he nodded.
"Of course, Father."
As if recalling the mushroom cloud in Romania, York squinted his eyes, patted Howard Martin on the shoulder, and walked towards the sofa set.
"Howard, hurry up with the modifications. I still need to go back to Pluto Church to write a report. An old man is probably getting impatient…"
Howard Martin nodded, and soon a worker brought over the modification plans.
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