Exorcist in America

With everyone headed to their respective destinations, York felt a sense of relief. To be honest, he didn't like everyone revolving around him or feeling confined because of him. So, this arrangement was satisfying for him.

However, what surprised him was that the fleet of cars waiting outside wasn't from Tokyo's Saint Maria Cathedral but belonged to Higa Kotoko's shrine, as evidenced by the cherry blossom emblem—an unmistakable symbol of her shrine.

"Bishop York, we have been sent by the Lady High Priestess to escort you to your desired destinations."

The leader resolved his confusion, and York glanced back at Erin and the others.

"Arrange for a few cars to take them downtown, wherever they want to go."

The leader, clad in a crisp black suit, stood tall and capable.

"Yes, Bishop."

He nodded, gesturing to his subordinates, who quickly took up the role of drivers.

Seeing this, York instructed Erin and the others before following the leader into his assigned vehicle.

Inside, the space was more spacious than it appeared from outside, comfortable even for someone of York's build to sit cross-legged.

York appreciated this, giving the driver a customary smile reserved for his followers.

As he did so, the leader, who was also the driver, asked softly, "Bishop, where would you like to go? Would you like a tour, or shall we head back to Saint Maria Cathedral in Tokyo?"

York chuckled lightly. "Didn't your High Priestess tell you where to take me?"

The driver, evidently aware of something, stiffened under the imposing gaze of the young bishop.

"Bishop, the Lady High Priestess instructed us to take you wherever you wish to go."

"Heh."

York shook his head, his mind conjuring the image of Higa Kotoko—cold in expression but warm in demeanor, a stark contrast that defined her as the epitome of a tsundere, quite unlike her straightforward and bold sister, Higa Makoto.

Remembering the address from the text message on his phone, York instructed calmly.

"Take me to Sakuranoi Izakaya."

At the mention of this location, the driver visibly relaxed, his tense demeanor easing considerably.

"Yes, Bishop York."

With that, he started the car and led the procession out of Tokyo International Airport. At an intersection, the conspicuous fleet split, each vehicle heading to its assigned destination.

York glanced at the rearview mirror in the car.

The vehicles had split into two groups; one carried the excited Hannah, Aretha, Erin, and Hillary towards the bustling city center. Another car, carrying a solemn John Wick, headed in a different direction.

Something about John Wick's somber demeanor gave York a momentary pause—as if he were visiting a deceased friend.

"Could there be something I don't know about? Or has there been a fourth installment released after I arrived in this world?"

York wasn't overly concerned; in the dangerous world of assassins, death was an everyday occurrence.

For professional killers, death wasn't as terrifying as it seemed to others.

With that thought, York looked forward as the car slowed down, entering a lively district.

Both sides of the street were lined with shops—ramen restaurants, izakayas, small eateries, and even mysterious little stores or unique maid cafés, complete with cute girls in maid outfits soliciting customers.

Diverse shops lined the streets, a feast for the eyes.

Paired with people in various attires passing by, occasionally including real suits likely unwinding after a busy day, the scene was quintessentially Japanese.

Yet none of this caught York's eye. His experiences were vast, making ordinary scenes, fascinating to others, quite mundane to him.

Turning his gaze from the window and ignoring a drunkard's cries on the street, York looked ahead.

Another intersection was ahead, but York knew the route—turn right here, then another right at the next corner to reach the Higa family's holdings.

Indeed, that vast area was all under the Higa family's control. The rent alone could keep a regular person wealthy for life, given the area's prime location and exorbitant rental rates, affordable only to discreet, low-profile families.

As York anticipated, the car turned at the intersection and proceeded to even more opulent surroundings.

Occasionally, expensive luxury cars appeared. The pedestrians here dressed strikingly richer and more glamorous.

The car continued through this dreamlike district towards a more secluded area, finally navigating through narrow alleys to a controlled entry point.

Guards dressed similarly to the driver, bearing the Higa family emblem, stood watch.

"Bishop York, we are almost there," the driver said, not daring to meet York's eyes, focusing instead on the road ahead.

"Mhm." York responded casually to the bowing figures on either side of the car.

He was familiar with this place, mainly because the food here was significantly better than elsewhere. The selection of ingredients alone was an invisible barrier, worlds apart in

 quality.

This explained why the cuisine preferred by the wealthy seemed unappealing to others—the high-quality ingredients were a delicacy in themselves, and excessive garnishing or common sauces could only detract from their natural flavors and taste.

As the car pulled up, a distinctly ordinary izakaya came into view.

It lacked prominent signage, but its setup was unmistakably that of a genuine izakaya.

Without waiting for the driver, York opened the door and stepped out, looking towards the izakaya.

An attendant dressed like a typical izakaya server was waiting outside. He bowed deeply.

"Bishop York, the Lady High Priestess has been waiting inside for you for a long time."

"Mhm." York nodded, smiling at the familiar face of the chef and owner of the izakaya, Toi Fumita.

"It's been a while. What delicacies have you prepared this time?"

"Lord Bishop, I have prepared sushi made with Edo-style skipjack tuna, king crab, Kobe beef dishes, sakura shrimp, bluefin tuna, and shirako tofu from silver cod," Toi Fumita explained as York stepped inside.

The interior was entirely vacated, not a soul in sight except for a lady in a kimono sitting at the center, surrounded by an array of top-tier dishes.

Her dignified face radiated an intense coldness, an intriguing mix of ice and propriety accentuated by a scar over her right eye, enhancing her uniquely alluring aura.

At first glance, one might not immediately think of beauty, but her poisonously attractive aura unmistakably marked her as a stunningly beautiful woman.

York saw her, and the memories of that cold-hearted girl from his past merged with the woman before him.

"It seems that cold-hearted girl has indeed grown up."

Sensing the deeply restrained spiritual power within her, York smiled.

Such delicate control was not something ordinary people could achieve, showing that Higa Kotoko had indeed dedicated herself to her training after his departure.

Meanwhile, Higa Kotoko also turned her head to look his way.

Her imposing figure, neatly trimmed short hair, robust facial features radiating a resolute and masculine charm, and deep eyes twinkling with determination and decisiveness captured her attention completely.

As she stared at the familiar smile, Higa Kotoko paused, overwhelmed by memories.

It was this man who had stood in front of her, protecting her when she held her unconscious sister in utter helplessness.

Higa Kotoko took a deep breath and slowly rose from her seat.

Seeing this, York kept his smile and walked over.

"Bishop York."

Observing his unchanged features, Higa Kotoko pursed her lips and bowed.

"It's been a long time."

"Heh, Kotoko, after all these years, has our friendship really grown so distant?" York ignored her changing expressions and sat down casually.

"I still prefer the nickname 'big brother' over being called 'Bishop.'"

Suddenly hearing the voice that had often echoed in her mind and dreams, Higa Kotoko almost lost her composure. She suppressed her emotions and took a deep breath.

"Bishop York, that was when I was young and naive."

However, unknown to her, her voice, though cold, carried an unmistakable softness, which even York could discern.

"Is that so." York gestured for her to sit.

"Suit yourself."

He was well aware of Higa Kotoko's personality.

Just after sitting down, Higa Kotoko fell silent.

Sensing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, York looked at her and added.

"Of course, if possible, I'd still like you to not mind my position as a bishop, just as I asked you not to mind my status as a priest before."

Higa Kotoko's hands hidden under the table clenched silently, without responding to his remark.

"Why didn't you first visit Saint Maria Cathedral in Tokyo? I think Bishop Pedelio would have been eager to see you."

York paused as he was about to pick up his chopsticks, speaking gently, "Because you wanted to see me, didn't you? So I came."

Higa Kotoko's lips parted, but instinctively, she closed them again, her usual poise completely at odds with her current demeanor. If her subordinates saw their High Priestess like this, they would be utterly astonished.

But York understood. Higa Kotoko was a sensitive person, always had been, caring about others despite her tsundere tendencies.

Just like how she envied and was jealous of her sister but would risk her life for her, and because she knew the weight of the title "High Priestess," she worked all the harder not to let her sister bear it.

Or perhaps behind that cold exterior was a heart of softness.

"Has exorcising spirits been tough lately? Kotoko." York casually picked up a sushi made from top-grade ingredients and popped it into his mouth, continuing, "I heard there's been an increase in paranormal activities recently."

Higa Kotoko stole a glance at the man opposite her, then averted her eyes again, her tone chilly.

"No, although some issues are tricky and tiring, I can manage."

York glanced at the scar in her eye, a harsh lesson from the past. If he hadn't arrived in time, the two sisters might have been devoured by that malevolent spirit.

Perhaps seeing him use modern weaponry then had influenced Higa Kotoko's style from that moment on; she could be described with the phrase 'extreme in all things'—using whatever was effective, not confined to the Shinto traditions she inherited.

"Need any help?"

Higa Kotoko shook her head, "I can handle it, big brother."

Perhaps it was York's unchanging demeanor that prompted her to slip out with that address; realizing her lapse, she quickly corrected herself.

"Bishop York, may I ask you a question?"

York pretended not to notice her slightly reddened ears.

"What is it?"

"Can you handle it alone?" Higa Kotoko looked up.

York raised an eyebrow, meeting the gaze of the lady opposite him, noticing something, his eyes softening as he smiled.

"Yes."

As he spoke, York, catching her about to avert her gaze again, added with a smile.

"Kotoko, are you worried about me?"

"No." Higa Kotoko looked down at the food on the table.

"I'm worried you might affect us."

York couldn't help but laugh; her voice trembled slightly, suggesting more than her words conveyed.

However, an unexpected event caught his attention.

A pretty girl with a backpack suddenly burst into his three-dimensional view, her hands on her hips, confronting the slightly troubled Higa family members outside.

The girl, in a school uniform, had fair and delicate skin, a cute face with a slightly prominent nose, and large, bright eyes like twinkling stars, her occasional dimples adding a playful and adorable touch.

This merged seamlessly with his memories of the girl who used to call him "Onii-chan," who had cried so heartbreakingly when he left.

Wasn't this Higa Makoto?

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