Chapter 245 – Who Is This Person?
Exorcists' Guild – Longbridge Tavern
Creaaak—
The wooden door was gently pushed open.
A man dressed in a black robe stepped inside. His entire figure was concealed beneath a hood, though the stubble along his chin revealed he was male.
Tap… tap.
He lightly knocked on the stone bar counter.
"Brad. The usual."
Behind the bar, the Black bartender nodded.
"Right away, Mr. Rossi."
A moment later, Brad slid a glass of brandy across the counter.
"Anything new lately?" Rossi asked, lifting the glass.
"An incident occurred at a High School in Philadelphia," Brad replied while polishing another glass, not looking up. "According to reliable sources, a spatial rift appeared during the event."
Rossi's hand paused midair.
"Oh? I assume the various factions lost quite a few people?"
"No. Full survival."
Beneath the hood, a flicker of surprise passed through Rossi's eyes.
"Hmm? Did some powerful exorcist relic drop out of the rift?"
Brad hesitated for a split second.
Do spatial rifts even drop items like that? he wondered privately.
Outwardly, however, he simply shook his head.
"The major factions have remained silent. But unofficial reports suggest it was resolved by a clergy member from the Church."
"Probably someone from the Vatican crowd," Rossi said casually. "Anything else?"
"The Vatican Knights are about to begin their new round of selection. This time, candidates will be grouped by dioceses, each led by a local clergy member. The selection site is likely connected to recent clergy deployments."
"Ah, yes. They're heading to a spatial rift as well." Rossi nodded. "Consider that information payment for the drink."
Brad raised an eyebrow, then immediately took out five glasses and filled them all with liquor.
"Please enjoy."
Rossi blinked—then chuckled.
"That unwavering devotion to 'fairness' is what I like about you."
"Mr. Rossi," Brad replied calmly, "I am married and have no plans to reconsider my sexual orientation within the next forty years."
"Pfft—"
Rossi quickly wiped his sleeve where he'd nearly spilled his drink.
"Your sense of humor is the exception!"
He took another sip, then asked lazily,
"Anything else? Feels like it's been quiet lately."
Brad resumed polishing the glass.
"A Guild exorcist just broke the recent resentment-value record."
Rossi gave a noncommittal "Oh?"
"Single increase of 8,000 points."
Rossi swirled his drink.
"The spirits must be furious enough to descend into hell. Which top-ranked monster pulled that off this time?"
Brad paused his movements.
"You know the rules. I can only tell you this—the person's ID is Anonymous #947."
"947?"
Rossi fell silent for a moment, thinking. Then surprise crept onto his face.
"If I remember correctly, that number wasn't on the leaderboard the last time I left the Guild."
"Save it, Rossi. You know the people on that board better than I do," Brad chuckled lightly.
"After all, you've been eyeing the top spots every single day."
Rossi adjusted his hood.
"Stop teasing me. I'm just an ordinary exorcist trying to complete a few more commissions."
He gestured vaguely at the ceiling.
"See? Now someone's stronger than me."
Brad shrugged. "That's true. I remember your best single gain was 6,000 resentment points."
"'Only' 6,000?" Rossi downed the rest of his drink in one go.
"He just scored a bit higher, that's all. Besides, I've hit that level multiple times."
He tapped the counter again for a refill.
"Oh, by the way—if you happen to know this new guy, introduce us."
"There's a commission that might involve an ancient demon. I'm looking for backup."
Brad shook his head helplessly.
"You've practically visited every spirit or demon with a bit of history. In a way, I almost feel sorry for them."
"Hey, I just enjoy a challenge," Rossi grinned.
"You know I can't disclose customer information," Brad replied. "But if there's a chance, I'll keep an eye out."
"Though at your current commission level, not many people would qualify."
Rossi smirked. "That's not necessarily true."
He jerked his thumb behind him.
"Isn't that guy strong enough?"
Brad collected the empty glasses.
"An 8,000-point increase is impressive."
He looked straight at Rossi.
"But you monsters on the leaderboard—how many of you couldn't do that?"
At that moment, another wave of noise erupted in the main hall.
Both men turned toward the commotion.
Then they froze.
On the screen above flashed a new line:
Anonymous #947 — Resentment Value +20,000
They slowly turned to face each other. Shock was written plainly in both their eyes.
Rossi swallowed.
"Brad… this time, I really… might not be able to pull that off."
---
Guild Private Lounge – Room 366
Bang!
The door burst open as a short girl rushed inside.
"Li—Little Witch Catherine! We found out! The leaderboard just updated!"
She peeked nervously toward the woman seated on the sofa.
The woman had long, jet-black hair and wore a flowing white dress.
"Doria," Catherine said in mock displeasure, "you promised you would knock before coming in."
Her voice was clear and melodic.
Seeing Doria lower her head, Catherine softened.
"Next time, remember."
"Now then—was there a ranking shift?"
Doria's lips curled upward before she corrected herself.
"No! Li—Little Witch Catherine, it's the live resentment feed!"
Catherine raised a brow. Her deep gray eyes shimmered with curiosity.
"How much could it be for everyone to be that excited? I could hear the shouting from inside."
Doria jumped up, animated.
"It started with 8,000! Tons of exorcists ran over from the commission boards—I almost got pushed out! Then it jumped another 20,000 in one go!"
"Twenty thousand?!" Catherine gasped, quickly covering her mouth.
"Yes!"
"You're in the top hundred. Do you know this person?"
Catherine lightly tapped Doria's head.
"How many times have I told you? Don't mention that. I chose anonymity on purpose."
Doria stuck out her tongue sheepishly.
Catherine shook her head.
"The people I know are still in early investigation stages of their commissions."
"And to gain 28,000 in such a short time… that would require a 'Catastrophe'-level case. No one has taken one of those recently."
Doria nodded, half-understanding.
"Li—Little Witch Catherine… could it be someone from the Holy See?" she whispered nervously.
Catherine tapped her head a bit harder this time.
"Don't scare yourself. The Mediterranean is far from North America. They'd never imagine I'm hiding here."
"Aw…" Doria puffed her cheeks. "I still think Lord Moses was a good man. If it were me, I would've accepted the marriage."
"We've been running away for so long… I miss that goose-feather bed!"
"Doria!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Don't bring that up again."
"Understood, Miss— I mean! Little Witch Catherine!"
Catherine sighed.
"Go investigate who this exorcist is. We can't rule out the possibility he was sent by them."
"I'm on it!"
Doria slipped out immediately.
---
Meanwhile — The Villa
"Twelfth."
Gideon patted the operating table, knocking loose a layer of dust.
Thanks to the "help" of the spirits, he had reshaped over half of one leg.
The progress exceeded his expectations.
Originally, he had assumed their residual energy would barely move the needle. But after some… "friendly persuasion," he had squeezed out quite a bit more.
The surviving spirits were now teetering on the brink of spiritual collapse.
They couldn't win. They couldn't negotiate. And the enemy only cared about draining their remaining evil aura.
Even spirits had limits.
Just as Gideon prepared for another "experimental repetition," the spirits possessing Madison suddenly dispersed.
A surge of evil energy bulged beneath her skin as if it might burst at any second.
Gideon immediately released the confinement and plunged his arm into the mass of dark energy.
The vortex reappeared, stirring even the lab equipment.
Ten minutes passed before calm returned.
"They exhausted themselves just to push me this far…" he muttered.
His skin-reforging progress now stood at over half of a single leg—just a little more to complete it.
"The rest will have to wait."
He failed to realize that what he had accomplished in one commission equaled years of progress for most clergy at his level.
---
Later
Madison had regained control of her body—barely.
She was disheveled and pale.
When Gideon looked at her, she instinctively lowered her head and hugged herself tightly.
"You witnessed my entire cultivation process. You understand what that means," Gideon said coldly.
"I—I know a forbidden witchcraft spell," she blurted, pressing her forehead to the floor in submission.
"It can erase a portion of memory. I'll cast it on myself!"
Gideon hesitated.
Killing recklessly under the Lord's light could invite misfortune.
And she had survived possession by more than a dozen spirits—remarkably resilient.
After some thought, he nodded.
"Explain."
She described the ritual: sacrifice lifespan, combine with evil remains, permanently erase the memory—even the memory of the spell itself.
She offered a vial of "Truth Serum" to prove her sincerity.
After a tense pause—
"Very well. Try it."
The ritual completed. The memory fragment condensed into a blood sphere, then crumbled to ash.
Gideon verified everything with his Holy Eyes. No abnormalities remained.
---
The Next Day
Back at the Guild.
The atmosphere felt strange.
Exorcists hurried around, whispering excitedly.
Many gathered beneath the massive screens overhead.
Madison leaned arrogantly in her seat—but occasionally shot wary glances at Gideon.
She remembered nothing.
Yet instinct told her—
Getting too close to that man was dangerous.
Zor, meanwhile, slept with a wooden jar in his arms.
Gideon remained silent.
And above them, the screen still displayed:
Anonymous #947 — +28,000
The hall buzzed with one question—
Who is this person?