Exorcist of the American Nightmares

While Hannah clearly had no intention of actually shooting York, she instead screamed again like a child, causing a mix of exasperation and nostalgia in him.

Hannah, a medium with the ability to communicate with spirits, had met York at a shooting club in England. She had been plagued by the supernatural for years, with her own family members—including her sister—being malevolent spirits wanting to consume her for rebirth.

York found it hard to imagine how Hannah had endured such conditions. This explained her preference for closed environments and her somewhat peculiar personality. Whether in the past or now, Hannah's mental state was slightly off.

Fortunately, when they first met, York was looking for opportunities to trigger random tasks, and they clicked instantly. At the cost of a dozen enchanted bullets, he had dispatched the three vicious spirits haunting her.

This event made Hannah reliant on him, and at that time, she was completely unaware of what her figure implied to men. Despite this, remembering Hannah's initial hedgehog-like wariness still made York smile as he reached out his hand.

When he extended his hand, Hannah, fresh from the bath and smelling of soap, bumped her forehead against it.

"Father, I want a hug!" Hannah reached out to tug at his clothes.

York, slightly taken aback by her forwardness, chided, "Don't even think about it!"

It was hard to understand how such a beautiful girl could act so childishly around him, while maintaining a cold and distant demeanor, like a hedgehog, around others.

"Please!" York glanced at Eileen, who seemed amused by the situation, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Please put on some clothes!"

Reluctantly, York moved to fasten Hannah's coat.

"There's someone else here, Hannah."

"Oh, is this your deaconess?" Hannah used the moment to press into York's embrace, giving Eileen a sweeping glance.

Eileen had a classic oval face, exuding a sweet and lovely charm coupled with a gentle and homely demeanor, which somehow made her seem trustworthy.

Jolted by the impact, York managed to cover Hannah's reveal and again grasped her head to pull her away.

"It seems introductions aren't necessary."

With her head firmly grasped by his large hand, Hannah continued to fidget, introducing herself.

"Eileen Famiga, a simple nun from the Roman convent, recently became York John's deaconess, catching public attention."

Eileen was surprised and looked like she wanted to say something, but York had already pushed Hannah into the house.

"Don't be too surprised; hacking is basic for her, especially since she keeps a close watch on my activities, so hiding this from her isn't possible."

York nonchalantly spoke, still not letting go of Hannah's head, his tall stature and long arms proving quite effective in keeping the restless Hannah from escaping his grasp.

"Damned priest!"

Hannah, annoyed, tried to apply some judo techniques on his arm, which felt as solid as steel, and then bit him hard.

However, it was like biting into something very tough, and she couldn't help but stare at the priest, who remained utterly unfazed.

"Haven't you come out yet, Hannah?" York looked around the empty living room, sighing.

Aside from some cooking utensils and signs of activity in the kitchen, the living room was utterly barren—no sofa, no TV, no decorations, no dining table. It looked as if no one lived there.

York knew that all these items were crammed into that small room, indicating that Hannah spent all her time there, living in the bedroom with the bath, only stepping out to the tiny sofa and bed, immersed in the virtual world.

This was why Hannah's hacking skills were among the top in the world because the online world might well be her entire world.

While she seemed normal when they were together in England, now her situation had worsened.

"I've come out," Hannah replied, sensing York's mood shift, she stopped struggling, letting him hold her head casually.

"It's just a habit. I think I'm fine, otherwise, I wouldn't have sneaked here."

"I was trying to surprise you, but you ran off! You ran off!!"

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" York smiled, sensing Eileen closing the door behind them.

"You hung up when you called me?" Hannah glanced at Eileen behind him.

"I was busy at the time, so..." York avoided mentioning the breach and, seeing Hannah calming down, finally let go of her head.

The secrecy of the breach was high-level, and he couldn't disclose it just because of Hannah.

"That's why I had Eileen hold onto my things."

But as he said this, Hannah bumped into him again.

York was nearly defeated by her persistence and chose to ignore it, glancing around the room to ensure it was clean before saying helplessly.

"Why are you still like a child?"

Hannah, breathing in

 a scent she'd never forget, glanced at Eileen, who looked slightly awkward, and grinned.

"I am a child in front of you."

"Alright, alright! Won't you invite me in?" 

Hannah knew what he meant; she shrugged, squeezed into his embrace again, took a deep breath, and then led the way.

"Please come in, my Father."

Hannah straightened up, her feet together, one knee gently bent, making her body dip slightly, one hand on her chest and the other lightly touching her bent knee, directly pointing towards her room.

"What is this performance?"

York's face twitched slightly, but he had no choice but to follow Hannah into her room with Eileen.

Inside, the scent of a girl's room mixed with Hannah's personal scent enveloped them—more a fragrance of daily showers than body odor.

Luckily, both Hannah and Eileen lacked the typical Western body odor.

After settling in the cramped, but neatly arranged room, York nonchalantly sat on a corner of a small sofa.

The room was tidy despite the clutter: a small table in front of the sofa held several laptops and a desktop, surrounded by numerous mobile phones and some books.

"This is where I spend my days," Hannah said, leaning against York and gesturing to Eileen. "Since you're his deaconess, feel free to sit anywhere."

Eileen, observing the crammed room, instinctively looked at York.

York nodded, "Don't mind her."

As Eileen settled near the bed, Hannah leaned closer to York and whispered, "Father, there's something off about your deaconess. She looks at you strangely!"

York ignored her, beginning to sift through the data on Hannah's desk. He was here to surprise Hannah but also to see what she had discovered.

During this downtime, he intended to rigorously train his deaconess, believing she had untapped potential as a descendant of a saint.

"I refuse to believe that the only descendant of Saint Lucia, known for rebirth through fire and as a symbol of light, has only these capabilities."

"There must be something more I haven't uncovered."

"The legacy of a saint shouldn't be wasted," York thought, letting Hannah carry on her antics while he quietly examined the data she had gathered.

Maybe his actions were too apparent, for Hannah looked up and said, "With your status, do you still need to do this? To be involved in such things?"

"I cannot coexist with evil! Just thinking about all these supernatural incidents makes me uneasy."

York responded casually as he found a recent report of paranormal activity.

"Is this real?"

He saw a plea for help from someone named Riley, detailing her distressing experiences: sensations of an unseen presence, kitchen items moving on their own, and recently tidied rooms becoming inexplicably messy as if someone had ransacked them. Windows would shatter without cause, and most troubling, Riley saw figures playing around her child, leading her to move, yet the disturbances only intensified, and her child had fallen into an inexplicable coma.

Reading the post, which detailed the events like a diary, York recognized the nature of the incident.

He recalled sculptures that allowed ordinary people without mediumistic abilities to communicate with the dead and a mysterious toy house that created a space to trap malevolent spirits.

"Of course, it's real," Hannah replied, snuggling against the arm that comforted her and grabbing the mouse from the priest to click on a video.

The screen showed a clip where a baby stroller moved on its own, crashing into a door despite the brakes being engaged—a situation that would require a significant force to occur.

"It's terrifying, isn't it? As if something really pushed the stroller," Hannah whispered.

York glanced at her, tempted to mention her childhood spent battling malevolent spirits in her family, but he asked instead, "Has anyone dealt with it?"

Many ordinary people, besides seeking help from the high and mighty church, turn to mediums like the Warrens for help.

This is why the church does not forbid the existence of these unregistered mediums; as long as issues are resolved, the church won't complain.

"After all, the faithful are but a small part of the global population."

This necessity for folk mediums or hunters is crucial, as the world is too vast for the church to handle alone, despite being the largest and most authoritative organization in exorcism.

"I don't know," Hannah shrugged after several clicks. "She hasn't posted recently. Someone might have taken up her plea. I wanted to mention it to you."

York glanced at the post's timestamp—four days ago—and pondered.

"Is it close by?"

"Close, right here in New York," Hannah clicked, displaying a map with Manhattan's Upper West Side at the center.

"Lead me to her plea," York instructed calmly.

Hannah looked at him surprised, "You deal with these minor issues now?"

"Why not?" York replied lightly, repeating the line he often used to dismiss inquiries

, "I cannot coexist with evil! Even if it's minor, it's still evil. The sesame is small, but it has all five organs."

He paused, adding, "And this isn't for me to handle, but for Eileen."

Eileen, who had been quietly observing, was taken aback, clearly not expecting to be involved, her mouth agape in surprise.

Hannah glanced back at Eileen, then began typing.

"Father, about the fee for this information, I'd like to discuss it with you!"

York, half-amused, replied, "You money-grubber! You want to charge for this?"

"In your words, 'Each matter should be settled on its own merits,'" Hannah quipped, her disheveled blonde hair bouncing as she shook her head.

"Fine, I'll transfer the money later," York conceded.

For him, money had become inconsequential, relegated to the dust, so much so that he still had access to millions.

"No, I don't need money," Hannah suddenly said, tilting her head, "I want to go too! Otherwise, I won't click."

York stared at her seriously for a few seconds, seeing her unwavering determination, he sighed.

"Alright, alright! You can come along too!"

Hearing this, Hannah smiled brightly and clicked the mouse.

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