In Supernatural Incidents, if the party involved is still alive, tracing the cause is relatively simple, and it might even trigger a Random Mission.
But Falanci Renqi was dead, so York could only follow the original plan and head to a certain place, visiting a friend while delivering the Spirit Powder he had accidentally obtained.
Soon, York arrived at his destination, a 24-hour convenience store, still located in Stanford.
After glancing at the seemingly empty convenience store with no one around, York parked his car casually in an empty spot and stopped the recording playback on his phone.
At this moment, the back seat was unusually quiet.
"Holy Imbuement using three points of Spirit, the effect only lasts for three hours?"
York glanced back at the rear seat, ignoring the annabelle doll and other mediums carrying the Evil Spirits, and retrieved the Bluetooth Speaker.
After playing for approximately three hours, York could no longer sense the presence of Holy Energy on the Bluetooth Speaker.
"With this form of consumption, one point of Spiritual Power equals one hour of effect?"
Having obtained this experimental result, York's gaze toward the annabelle doll became gentler.
"Stay put for me. I'll be relying on you all from now on."
Satisfied, York picked up the backpack from the passenger seat, spoke these words to the empty back seat, and then got out of the car.
[1:29]
York, like a traveler, slung the backpack, which was larger than a hiking pack, over his shoulder and entered the 24-hour convenience store.
It was no different from a typical convenience store; the front was filled with dazzling merchandise, and next to it was the cashier, where a dark-skinned middle-aged man stood. Seeing York, he nodded respectfully.
"Father Yorkes, you haven't been here in a long time."
"Mm."
York casually responded, lifted the backpack that looked like a regular satchel on his shoulder, and walked toward the wall in the back.
"Todd, open the door for me."
"Yes!"
The cashier named Todd replied while pressing the 'Y' key on the keyboard beneath the computer with his right hand.
Just as York reached the wall, the clean white wall split open with a creak, revealing a space the size of a small door and the elevator inside.
This scene, which would appear strange to ordinary people, was normal in York's eyes. Everything before him was designed to prevent ordinary people from straying in.
Just as Rowling had said before, ordinary people have the world of ordinary people, and those who are different from ordinary people naturally have their own world.
York stepped inside, the small door immediately closed automatically, and the elevator started operating, taking him to his destination.
Six seconds later.
When the door automatically opened, what appeared in York's vision was a corridor bathed in red light. The corridor's decor leaned towards a bar setup, and faint music could be heard from within.
Remembering a certain person's peculiar taste, York shook his head, exited the elevator, and walked into the corridor. The deeper he went, the louder the music became.
Rock, Country... Listening to the music, he reached the end, and everything suddenly opened up.
Stopping at the entrance of the corridor, York held his backpack and squinted slightly.
Above was the convenience store, and below was a layout resembling a lounge bar; everything a high-end lounge bar should have was present here.
A long, narrow bar counter, shelves packed with various liquor bottles, and booth seating made of sofas, scattered in pairs.
A quick glance showed that every booth had guests, either playing cards, drinking alcohol, sitting quietly listening to the music, or chatting.
There were men and women, but the patrons weren't necessarily actual humans.
Smelling the faint scent of molten rock, York, carrying the backpack that looked remarkably small against his large frame, walked down the steps with a calm expression.
The rock music was playing, and the tall, sturdy priest had already attracted everyone's attention.
As York walked through, a synchronized rhythm occurred throughout the venue: everyone stopped what they were doing.
However, aside from a few people unfamiliar with the situation, most shifted their gaze after just one look.
Curiosity, suspicion, fear, rigidity—all these emotions could be seen in the corresponding expressions at that moment... For a time, the playful atmosphere changed.
York paid it no mind.
Aside from Exorcists who possessed special abilities or used unconventional methods, basically, more than half of the patrons were humans materialized by Demons who had been accidentally summoned and registered.
To be frank, many of them were acquaintances he had dealt with. The Demons still here were mostly those who had been disciplined by The Church or were peace-loving Demons who just wanted to enjoy the human world for a while.
Compared to the Demons that were eliminated, these peace-loving Demons who even learned to work like humans were the real winners in life.
Thinking this, York strode past and opened a door leading into another area.
Behind him, sounds of relief rose and fell.
Click!
The environment before him changed again. The layout here was the same as the convenience store above, with row upon row of shelves.
The difference was that the shelves above held actual merchandise, while these shelves held piles of books, various bottles and jars, and even some strange Formalin-soaked Specimens.
Moving past the shelves, York's gaze stopped at the counter ahead. A cool-looking old man, wearing reading glasses and smoking a pipe, was leaning over a microscope, studying something.
Seeing this, York walked toward the counter and spoke up to alert him.
"Father Mike, what new thing are you researching now?"
As his voice fell, the old man researching something on the counter subconsciously stopped his movements. He took off his reading glasses and looked up. Before seeing the person, the voice came out of his mouth first, sounding confused.
"York?"
Watching the old man's expression transition from confusion to surprise, York stopped in front of the counter, placed his backpack on the spacious surface, and glanced at the piece of flesh under the microscope before chuckling.
"Are you surprised I came?"
"Yes, I am a bit surprised."
Confirming the identity of the visitor, the old man casually placed his reading glasses on the counter, a visibly happy expression on his face, causing the wrinkles above his brow to bunch up.
"What brings you here?"
"I exorcised an Evil Spirit, and it was relatively on the way, so I came to see you," York answered truthfully, taking out the wadded-up Franklin Banknotes from his backpack and handing them over.
"Also, I obtained some Spirit Powder."
"Spirit Powder?"
As soon as he heard this, Old Mike's white eyebrows slightly raised. He took the wadded and crumpled banknotes, held his pipe in his left hand, and used his right hand to peel back the paper and glance at the powder inside.
"Hili has been quite short on this stuff recently."
Confirming it was correct, Old Mike put it away while pointing his pipe at York and chuckling.
"But I knew it. If you didn't have something going on, you probably wouldn't leave your den."
"You know me best."
York smiled, looking at the old man before him. Memories surfaced in his mind; although the old man was retired now, he had once been at least a Bishop-level figure.