Chereads / Exorcist of the American Nightmares / Chapter 274 - Chapter 274: The Choice

Chapter 274 - Chapter 274: The Choice

St. Peter's Basilica.

One of the twelve apostles of God, Peter, also known as Simon Peter, is buried here.

Legend has it that Peter held the key to heaven, given to him by God, in his right hand and a scroll of divine decree in his left. He was one of the founders of the Church, the first pope...

York did not know the truth of this legend, although he always felt a terrifying power enshrined within.

Regardless, the building before him still inspired a sense of magnificent déjà vu, with just one glance sufficing to feel the rich historical atmosphere rushing toward him.

The architectural style is a fusion of Renaissance and Baroque elements.

The facade of the cathedral, illuminated by soft holy light and lighting, makes the massive columns, reliefs, and sculptures appear lifelike.

Moreover, the bell tower and dome, shining like a massive crown under the illumination, all combine to give St. Peter's Basilica an aura of solemnity, sanctity, and grandeur.

Erin was awestruck at her first visit, while York quickly regained his senses and introduced:

"This is the mother church of our congregation, and the largest church in the world, with the dome reaching a height of 136 meters."

Continuing, he looked toward the monk driving the car and asked calmly:

"Brother Simon, is someone looking for me?"

He was not unfamiliar with this place, so he knew that the Vatican was not just composed of buildings like St. Peter's Basilica.

Normally, one would first be sent to their lodging upon arrival and then wait for further instructions.

Although he also wished to see the old man first, in such a large organization, rules must be followed, as the saying goes, without rules, there is no circle.

As expected, meeting the old man tomorrow would be more likely.

But, appearing here now already indicated that someone was looking for him.

"Yes, Father York, someone inside is waiting for you." The driving Brother Simon replied, his face serene and his entire being radiating devoutness.

Such monks are the type who could dedicate their lives to their faith.

Indeed... York thought as he approached St. Peter's Basilica.

"Who? Pope Gregory?"

However, Brother Simon had already closed his mouth and did not speak, simply driving them to the front of St. Peter's Cathedral.

York smiled lightly, knowing what it meant, and told him.

"Take my deacon nun to the building where I used to live. Of course, before that, take her for a tour first, as it's her first time here."

Brother Simon nodded in understanding.

"Alright, Father York."

Erin instinctively looked at her own father.

"Don't worry, take your time exploring," York said upon seeing her bewildered look, couldn't help but pat her head, and smiled.

"There's a lot to see here, not just St. Peter's Basilica, but also some miracles."

After speaking, without waiting for the young nun to react, he stepped out of the car like a triumphant thief, smiling as he walked towards St. Peter's Basilica, leaving Erin silently watching him, not knowing what to think...

...

"Father York."

The monks guarding around St. Peter's Basilica bowed their heads in salute as they saw him approach.

York nonchalantly waved his hand and walked in under their gaze.

There's a saying that when you enter St. Peter's Basilica at night, you will be awestruck by its interior, truly worthy of being the mother church of a global organization.

The tall central nave leads to the altar, surrounded by magnificent murals and statues showcasing the glorious history of the Church. The dome's mural, "The Creation," depicting Adam and God reaching out to touch hands, offers a transcendental feeling.

In essence, it's a global masterpiece.

But York, who had visited many times and had grown accustomed to it, stared straight ahead towards the deepest part.

There, close to the altar, sat an old man in a spotless white robe, alongside a bishop in a purple robe.

"The old man, Bishop Cecil..."

York pursed his lips and walked over.

Step by step, his footsteps broke the silence.

Until he was in front of the two, York first nodded to the bishop in the purple robe, surrounded by a holy aura.

"Bishop Cecil."

This bishop was considered a strong figure in his eyes, with a faith so firm that his every move radiated a divine aura.

From this, one could imagine the terrifying power he possessed.

And this bishop, who had always acted as a protector beside the Pope, just nodded slightly upon hearing York's words and then left the spot.

Leaving behind the old man sitting on the bench, smiling with an indescribable charm, and York, who stood still.

"Pope Gregory." For the first time here, York changed his form of address.

"York, you're here." The old man turned his head towards him, patting the seat next to him.

"Come, sit."

York nodded and took a seat.

In this parallel world, finding someone he could respect was rare, and this man who raised him was one of them.

Back then, the old man was just a priest, eventually becoming a bishop, while York had just graduated from the seminary. Under his nomination, York became a deacon and eventually a priest, as the old man rose to become the Pope.

This was the relationship between him and the old man; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call this man a father.

"York, you've changed a lot." The old man's eyes sparkled.

"You seem younger."

"Is that so? Perhaps I've been living healthily lately." York smiled, naturally pulling the blanket over the old man's knees, a gesture done countless times before.

"You've changed a lot too."

"Have I become older?" Gregory saw his action, looked at York, and smiled warmly, his eyes full of memories.

"Yes, a bit."

York looked at the old man, his usually strong gaze softening at this moment.

Clergy, blessed by divine power, not only gain the ability to wield holy power but also live longer than ordinary people.

Don't be fooled by some bishops who still have black hair mixed with white, appearing to be in their fifties or sixties; they are at least in their seventies or eighties.

Take for example Bishop Richard of Thailand, who once had black and white hair but has now turned completely white due to significant expenditure of energy.

The old man who raised York now visibly aged more than before.

With his superhuman hearing, York noticed the old man's heartbeat was weak, no longer as strong as before, along with some extremely frail movements, making York's brows furrow in silence.

This condition was only found in some elderly people nearing death.

The old man seemed no different on the outside, but his overall condition felt like the last arrow at the end of its flight.

This is...

York's expression became involuntarily solemn.

"Hehe."

Gregory didn't seem to mind, simply staring at the image of Jesus, speaking softly.

"Do you know who orchestrated your priesthood promotion?"

York took a deep breath: "I guess only you could suppress the bishops who were hostile to me in the council."

"Correct, it was me. You're not angry with me, are you, child?" Gregory smiled.

York pursed his

 lips, also staring at the eternal image of Jesus:

"No, you must have had your reasons for doing so."

"Hehe." Gregory smiled: "Child, is there anything you'd like to ask me? Speak, and I will answer one by one, that's why I called you here."

York took a deep breath: "Indeed, I have many questions."

Gregory just smiled.

"I stumbled upon something, you probably know too, I want to know if there are other worlds."

York broached one question, though he already somewhat knew the answer, he still wanted to hear it from the old man.

"Yes."

Gregory replied: "Our world is not the only one, just like an egg, the membrane outside the eggshell connects to one unknown world after another."

Indeed...

Finally getting confirmation, York felt an indescribable excitement, even though he was already aware of it.

"Have you been out?"

Gregory seemed to sense York's mood, smiling warmly: "Yes, I've been out, it was a very nice journey."

York unconsciously exhaled deeply, understanding from these words that the old man had a way to go out, or knew of stable and safe spatial nodes, similar to the rift in the fog, but safer and more stable.

But just as he thought of this, York suddenly remembered his previous speculation about the instability and increased fragility of this world's space, and the increase in supernatural events.

These must be related.

So, after taking a breath back, York looked at the waiting old man and selectively asked.

"What exactly is happening to our world?"

Gregory's face remained unchanged, he smiled and answered: "It has become more dangerous."

York was moved.

But the old man, as if knowing all his thoughts, said.

"Are you curious why there have been more supernatural events lately, and why space has become more fragile?"

York silently nodded.

"Hehe, that's because our world has developed cracks."

Seeing this, the old man smiled gently and explained.

"York, our world is actually like an egg, if the eggshell outside the membrane, which acts as protection, doesn't crack, then our world will be stable, without any changes..."

Hearing this, York understood the meaning of his words, exhaling lightly.

"So, once the eggshell outside cracks, bacteria can invade, entering the inside of the egg, contaminating the internal structure of the egg with bacteria."

Saying this, York showed a bitter smile: "Is it that simple?"

After all, this explanation could indeed account for why supernatural events have become more frequent, because, like the cracking of an eggshell, cracks have appeared in the world's defenses, leading to the invasion of something, causing certain changes.

Thinking about it, it's true; previously, there were no monsters like those in the Reed Apartment building.

Because those monsters were not demons from hell but seemed more like a variant of some dark force.

"Otherwise."

Gregory glanced at him, his smile bright.

"What else did you think it was?"

"I thought it was some kind of apocalypse or another world trying to invade."

York said somewhat awkwardly, but he thought of something else and asked.

"Who exactly is Erin?"

"The descendant of a saint." Gregory answered calmly.

"The only descendant of Saint Lucia."

"Saint Lucia? I see, no wonder..." York thought of Erin's eyes.

Legend has it that God granted Saint Lucia double the vision, allowing her to continue seeing the truth of the world more clearly and understanding miracles more vividly.

"...Wait, old man, you telling me, your travels were actually secret visits to other worlds?"

At this moment, York realized this, as the old man's travels had always been a subject of his complaints.

"Do you really think I was just traveling?" Gregory glanced at him.

"York."

York's mouth twitched; he had a sudden realization, thinking of many things, even including the bishop's arrangement.

"Figured it out?" Gregory looked at York, who suddenly became stiff, and calmly smiled.

"Tell me, what do you plan to have me do?" York sighed.

"Or rather, how is this world supposed to be repaired?"

Combining previous conversations, how could he not understand?

"Ha ha!"

Gregory laughed, pointing at York.

"You'll understand when the time comes."

York shrugged: "Old man, why choose me? The Church isn't short of people."

Gregory turned his gaze back to the image of Jesus, sighing: "Because you are the only choice, the one we selected."

York fell silent, hearing the implication, 'we' probably representing the council of bishops:

"Why?"

"In two days, you'll know."

Gregory spoke indifferently: "In the meantime, prepare to accept the bishop's staff and responsibilities, I will personally promote and crown you..."

As these words fell, Bishop Cecil appeared in the side aisle, walking over.

"Your Holiness, it's time for you to rest."

During York's silence, Bishop Cecil quietly supported the old man.

As Gregory stood up, he turned back to look at the silent York, smiled, and said.

"York, we all believe this is God's will, think carefully about whether you want to accept this mission, if you refuse..."

The old man paused: "Then we will respect your choice."

Hearing this, York watched the two leaving figures, his face showing conflict.

The old man had directly thrown the responsibility onto him.

Of course, he understood the old man's meaning.

If he accepts, then he would know how to mend the so-called cracks in this world, know everything, and why he was chosen, and he would be responsible for the repairs.

If the repairs succeed, supernatural events will decrease, and this world would likely return to the usual squabbles under God, with demons from hell occasionally possessing people, then the Church stepping in to exorcise, solidifying and increasing the believers' faith, in perfect harmony.

If he refuses, then future events would be none of his concern.

He could still become the original loafing priest, previously a loafing priest, later a loafing bishop, perhaps the world's flaws would become more numerous, space more fragile,

And because of this, supernatural events would increase, cults could easily break through spatial defenses to summon demons, under various factors, the previously calm days would be disrupted, and the whole world might become increasingly dangerous...

So, which option to choose?

"But once you know there are other worlds, even the ability to enter and exit, it's really hard to ignore, damn old man..."

York sighed, staring at the image of Jesus ahead, murmuring softly.

"How should I choose?"

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