Chapter 150 — Only Fight the Battles You Can Win
A burst of static crackled through the walkie-talkie before Una's voice came through, tense and breathless:
"Mrs. Lorraine—about a dozen of those creatures just came up from the South Wing's second-floor emergency stairs!"
Lorraine immediately unfolded the hospital map she had grabbed from the monitoring room.
She marked her current position, memorized the route, and swiftly slipped away.
---
Minutes later
From behind the emergency exit door, distorted silhouettes spilled into the hallway.
Their bodies were grotesquely twisted—some with exposed organs pulsing in the open air.
With their arrival, a murky green mist began creeping along the floor.
Anything the fog touched sagged and rotted instantly.
One of the creatures suddenly stiffened—
It had caught a scent.
Under its lead, the entire group lurched toward the path Lorraine had used moments prior.
---
One hour later
"Lord Samail, the woman has appeared in Operating Room No. 3 again," a black-robed servant reported.
Samail's brow twitched.
This wasn't the first time.
Every time his men cornered the Warren couple's location, the woman had slipped away just before they arrived.
An occasional coincidence was plausible.
But every single time?
There was only one explanation—
someone was predicting the Servitors' movements in advance.
He reviewed the intel about the Warrens:
"Spirit Sight… descendant of Lucia… strong theological foundation…"
None of that suggested clairvoyance.
Which meant—
Samail slowly raised his head, eyes narrowing at the surveillance camera sitting in the corner.
"…Check it."
A Servitor vanished instantly at his command.
---
Lorraine crouched behind a corner as a column of creatures passed by.
Once they turned away, she sprinted for the next hiding spot.
The walkie-talkie crackled again:
"Mrs. Lorraine! They're— they're heading toward the monitoring room! What do we do?!"
Lorraine's expression hardened.
She hadn't expected Hans's forces to adapt this quickly.
She quickly relayed a rendezvous point to Una and the others.
It wasn't one of Gideon's "Emergency Protocols 1–25."
According to the manual:
"When the group you're leading no longer provides a net benefit,
choose solo action without hesitation."
Gideon had even scribbled a note beneath it:
"Especially avoid the idiots. They're the real threat."
But Una and the others had helped her.
And this catastrophe was very likely drawn to the hospital because of her and Ed.
She couldn't abandon them.
---
Soon, the group reunited.
Lorraine distributed the holy items Gideon had prepared beforehand—
each one low- to mid-grade, but absolutely life-saving in an emergency.
"Don't lose these. No matter what happens," she warned.
At that moment, a squad of Servitors burst around the corner—
hissing, retching up waves of corrosive green miasma.
Panic surged.
People stumbled back instinctively.
But Lorraine stepped forward.
"Mrs. Lorraine!" Una cried out in fear.
Lorraine ignored the shouts.
She raised her crucifix, uncorked a bottle of holy water, swallowed it in one go, and began chanting the exorcism rites.
The reaction was immediate.
The rotting miasma recoiled as if struck by a gale.
One creature lunged at her—
She caught its jaw with both hands, slammed her crucifix against its forehead—
SZZZTT—
The monster collapsed, black smoke seeping from the burn.
Seeing this, the others finally understood—
Their holy items worked.
Someone with enough courage stepped up beside her, mimicking her actions.
Another monster fell.
Courage spread like wildfire.
Within moments, the hallway—once echoing with shrieks—fell silent.
The group erupted into cheers.
But Lorraine's eyes darkened.
Gideon's words echoed in her mind:
"In hostile environments, conserve your resources.
You never know how many dangers remain."
Just as Gideon had expected—
Once the survivors realized they had a way to fight back, several of them immediately proposed launching a counterattack.
Lorraine didn't try to stop them.
She simply reminded them, "Holy artifacts have limited power."
A few people still left anyway.
The group shrank again.
---
First Floor, Outpatient Department
"Lord Samail, the monitoring room has been destroyed—just as you predicted."
"Then why," Samail said coldly, "are your hands empty?"
Cold sweat instantly beaded on the black-robed servant's forehead.
"T-Those people seem to have powerful holy artifacts… the Servitors can't get close."
"So it is as I thought."
Samail snorted.
"Send all remaining Servitors. With the Warrens' financial resources, there's no way they bought too many holy items."
Then he paused, suddenly remembering something.
"Oh, right. They have a friend who owns a holy-item shop. He might have left them a few high-grade artifacts."
His lips curled upward.
"When you attack, take your time. Let them savor despair."
Weren't you the one impatient at the start?
The black-robed man silently complained.
Outwardly, he bowed deeply.
"As you command."
---
Not long after—
"Lord Samail, we've lost sixty Servitors. We found three discarded crucifixes—all drained of power."
"Good. Judging from the depletion, their artifacts aren't low-grade."
Another report came rushing in:
"Another seventy-two Servitors have gone silent. We recovered four amulets, two crucifixes, and two empty holy-water bottles."
"Don't worry about the losses. I want them to burn through everything they have!"
Ten minutes later—
"Lord Samail—three hundred thirty Servitors eliminated. We found twenty amulets this time."
"What—twenty?! Aren't you forcing them north?!"
"Lord… it seems they know the north wing stairwell is blocked."
"USELESS FOOLS!"
Another wave came crashing in.
"Six hundred Servitors gone, my lord. We found fifty holy artifacts."
"FIFTY?! What are they, running a supermarket?!"
Samail's roar echoed through the hall.
Nearly a hundred holy items recovered—
Even ignoring the value, carrying that many should be nearly impossible.
"Where did they get all of this…?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Could it really be that friend of theirs?"
According to Hans's intel, the shop on Dewey Market Street was a small, unimpressive store.
Having one or two high-grade items was normal.
But this many?
Only a major ancient Church family could support such stock.
Samail clenched his fists.
His Servitors were his pride—mindless, yes, but dripping with evil power comparable to mid-tier demons.
To harm them, one needed at least one-year-grade holy items.
"Send the remaining Servitors!"
"L-Lord… there are none left."
The black-robed man fell to his knees.
"Today is the Remembrance Day… most are at the event site."
Samail stood in silence for a long moment.
Then, grimly:
"…Fine. Let's go meet this couple ourselves."
---
Moments later — Pharmacy Entrance
Samail finally found the targets of this entire operation.
Lorraine stood with only five survivors left—
those who had obeyed her instructions and refused to wander off, earning themselves a few more hours of life.
Samail scanned the group, eyes narrowing.
"Where's the husband?"
He turned to look down the hall—
And suddenly sneered.
"Ed Warren… I was just wondering where you'd gone."
Everyone turned to look.
Lorraine blinked, confused—
There was no one there.
Just as questions were about to form—
Samail struck.
A wet thud tore through the hallway.
Una froze.
She looked down—and saw an arm jutting through her abdomen.
Blood gushed out in a scorching wave.
"Una!" Lorraine lunged to catch her.
But pressure alone couldn't stop the blood.
Moments later, Una's breathing ceased.
Her lifeless body slumped into Lorraine's arms.