Exorcist of the American Nightmares

York put away his phone, his eyes devoid of emotion as he watched the live broadcast in front of him. He was on the phone with Bishop Romulo, aware of everything that was happening and had also obtained the address of the broadcast through priests who had gone to Los Angeles.

This meant that he was now in charge of the situation.

As the live broadcast continued, Drew, trembling with fear, slowly walked into the camera's view. York couldn't help but shake his head.

There's a saying, "Play with fire long enough, and you'll get burned."

It now seemed that the suspect named Max was possessed by something evil. His kneeling suggested that the demon possessing Lainey was either his master or of a higher rank.

Such possession bypassed the initial stages and reached a point where power could be manifested through a single command.

This demon's rank in hell was likely not low.

If it also controlled a legion, then the demon possessing the woman was at least of a hellish marquis level or higher.

This was roughly on par with a demon like Valac, one of the seventy-two demon gods. To determine its exact rank, a direct encounter was necessary.

Ordinarily, a demon of this level was not something a single priest could handle alone; usually, a bishop would step in unless the priest was no ordinary clergyman.

As when Valac's true form appeared in the world, the Church had lost several bishops to send it and its legion back to hell.

"I wonder which demon it is," York mused, squinting his eyes.

From the broadcast alone, he couldn't determine much.

"Bishop, are you going there?" Erin asked, having gleaned some information from their previous conversation.

Upon her question, both Hilary and John Wick in the front seat turned to look at him.

"Of course, I am going," York said nonchalantly, then turned to John Wick who was driving.

"John, do you have a gun?"

"Yes," replied John Wick in his usual straightforward manner.

He then reached into his coat with one hand, while keeping the other on the steering wheel, and handed over two handguns to York.

"HK P30L, a long version of the P30, equipped with a custom compensator, 200mm overall length, 113mm barrel, 9mm holy water bullets specially made by Brother Hilary, removable double-stack magazine with a capacity of 15 rounds..."

Listening to John Wick's detailed description, York quickly familiarized himself with the gun. Although it had been a long time since he last used a firearm, he quickly recalled the feel of it based on the specs.

"Do we need to go back, Bishop York?" John Wick glanced at the rearview mirror.

"No need, John," York replied with a gentle smile. "Just pull over here."

John Wick raised an eyebrow, unsure of York's plan, but still pulled the car to the side of the road.

"Bishop, how are you planning to get there?" Not just John Wick, but Hilary too was puzzled, staring at the empty roadway.

"Someone coming to pick you up?"

"No," York casually stuffed the two handguns into his pockets and turned to Erin.

"Erin, tidy up the house when you get back."

Erin blinked, sensing the implication that her bishop intended to go alone. Just as she was about to ask if she could accompany him, York smiled and said, "It's too far, and there's not enough time. I'll take you next time."

Seeing Erin's expression and remembering her efforts, York understood her thoughts and gently touched the young nun's forehead.

"The house is in your hands."

After that, as she instinctively covered her forehead, York opened the car door and stepped out, gazing at the darkening sky. Suddenly, he shot upward like an arrow, flying towards Los Angeles.

This left the three still in the car somewhat stunned, each exchanging glances, feeling for the first time a divine presence from Bishop York, witnessing a miracle.

"Is this what it feels like to fly like Superman?" Although the wind whistled by, York felt serene, as if his hearing had automatically adjusted to counteract the noise.

"Nice."

Looking down at the city below, lit up by neon lights against the darkness, York felt reflective. The freedom of flying high above the ground, unimpeded by earthly restrictions, was a truly magical experience.

York continued to ascend, feeling no effect from the cold as his altitude increased. This new perspective offered a tranquil serenity unlike anything on the ground.

"Heh," York chuckled, his lips curving into a slight smile.

With his mental strength breaking past four hundred and undergoing various transformations, he could sense subtle environmental changes such as wind direction and strength and the different variations in the air.

His scanning ability evolved as he ascended 200 meters, allowing him to choose whether to perform X-ray vision on humans, seeing through objects to their internal structures

 within a two-hundred-meter range.

This ability ensured that his strikes could potentially target an enemy's weak points, achieving devastating critical hits.

Moreover, as his divine power grew stronger and his telekinesis reached the third level, lifting heavy objects became effortless.

In short, his power was increasing exponentially, to the point where he was unsure of his own limits.

Now, York felt his flying speed was comparable to that of an airplane. With his current energy consumption, he estimated that reaching Los Angeles would cost him only six mental energy points.

Given the 2,450-mile direct flight distance between New York and Los Angeles, which would take about four hours by plane or over three days by car, York exhaled softly.

"If that's the case, then…"

As his thoughts concluded, the telekinetic energy around York intensified, and his speed surged, creating a whistling noise around his form.

"That should be enough, probably about forty more minutes to go, probably even faster than Father Augustus and the others."

This explosive increase in speed made York feel immense pressure and resistance, but fortunately, it was still within his tolerance. Despite a slight pain from the friction against his body, he confirmed he was at his limit.

Then, using his telekinesis to float his phone in front of his eyes, he checked the live broadcast's progress.

The demon possessing Lainey was now having Drew take over Max's duties, meaning he assumed Max's role, performing for the live audience.

York frowned, understanding the demon's intent.

The Church had always maintained a clear boundary between humans and the supernatural to prevent the proliferation of supernatural or demonic incidents.

The idea was that once those boundaries were lifted, the evil forces would have more options. The old saying goes, "Believe in the concept of a demon, and a demon will sense you."

Although many believers and people around the world believed in demons, most were in a state of vague awareness, thanks to the secrecy maintained by the authorities and the Church.

Now, the demon in the broadcast was clearly trying to lift the veil that shrouded the masses.

"It looks like the number of viewers is increasing," York noted, seeing the growing viewer count in the live stream, his expression becoming grave.

He was confident that the clergy in Los Angeles would take some action, but it seemed all efforts had failed.

Indeed, as York suspected, the departments in Los Angeles were already panicking.

"Sir, for some reason, despite using all available means, the broadcast is still ongoing," someone reported in a hall-like office filled with computers and staff.

The person in charge, facing the main screen showing the live stream, looked grim and finally said helplessly, "It seems we are dealing with supernatural forces beyond our understanding. Inform the Church; this is no longer something we can handle."

"Understood," someone replied.

The message reached Father Enrico, an elderly priest in his fifties, who sighed as his colleagues gathered around. "It seems this demon had a specific target and has been preparing for a long time. From now on, this line will probably exist in name only."

The gathered priests and deacons, each according to their church's resources, made a formidable group.

Although Los Angeles did not have a high-level cathedral like New York or a high-ranking archbishop like Bishop Romulo, it still fell under a diocese and naturally had its own diocesan bishop.

However, movement took time.

Whether by demonic intention or not, the broadcast's location was precisely in the weakest area of power and furthest from the diocesan bishop in Los Angeles, Bishop Randall Masiel.

Thus, it would take Bishop Masiel some time to arrive from his location.

While technology allowed for information to be relayed in seconds, and reinforcements from New York, including the legendary Bishop York, were on their way, the reality was that they could not reach immediately.

"So, gentlemen, it's up to us now," Father Enrico stated, taking a deep breath.

The colleagues around him represented all the Church's available power in the area and were closest to the broadcast location.

"Of course," someone responded. "It's what we must do."

With about forty people, a resolute determination emanated from the group. For these quietly dedicated clergy, doing what was right meant moving forward, never retreating, even if it meant facing a demon that could defy reality and control everything.

Led by Father Enrico, the group headed toward the broadcast location.

However, halfway there, Father Enrico received a call from the local government department connected to his church.

"Father Enrico, some kind of monster has suddenly appeared on the streets, attacking..."

Listening to the urgent voice on the phone, Father Enrico's expression darkened.

He looked at his colleagues, whose phones were also ringing incessantly.

After answering, their expressions were equally grim.

Clearly, each priest's designated area was experiencing sudden appearances of monsters destroying everything and attacking people on the streets.

It was obvious that this

 was the work of demons, and who knew how long they had been planning, hitting their targets with such precision.

At the same time, Father Enrico's phone rang again. He instinctively looked, and the screen showed Bishop Masiel's name.

Father Enrico quickly answered, "Bishop Masiel!"

Before he could say anything, Bishop Masiel's sigh came through first.

"Father Enrico, you must have received the notifications by now, not just you but others as well."

"Yes!" Father Enrico knew what this meant and took a deep breath.

"Bishop, we're heading to the source."

"Give it up."

The voice from the phone made Father Enrico instinctively clench his jaw.

"Handle the immediate situation first."

"Bishop!" Father Enrico exclaimed.

"We can't let the demon lead us by the nose."

"I'll say it again, handle the immediate situation first," Bishop Masiel's voice was low.

"You can't deal with a demon of this level; going there would be suicide!

Since the demon wants to lift the veil, let it. We can't sacrifice innocent lives just to stop this,

Someone else will handle it, your current task is to eliminate all the evil that has appeared in your respective areas!"

Hearing this, Father Enrico's face was stormy, but he eventually obeyed.

"Yes!"

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