After Benson's transformation was complete, Jack Arnold departed silently. It had been less than a week since he had transformed Marilyn, and extracting another dose of "Embrace Blood" had significantly drained his "spiritual essence." Even with his current strength, he couldn't avoid a certain degree of weakness.
Evans approached, his expression complex.
"Let's go, Mr. Benson. We need to discuss our upcoming 'combat readiness' tasks."
The upper echelons of the "Cross of Atonement" were already aware of the imminent threat from the "Church of the Wolf's Word," and Benson was no exception.
"Alright."
Feeling the abundant power within him, Benson was eager to deal with those pesky heretics swiftly so he could start forming his "Order of the Night Clerics."
"Besides Marilyn and Lord Arnold, our main forces this time include Michelle, Green, and the thirteen 'Blood Recipients' of the 'Sons of Jacob.' Of course, there's also the two of us."
As they walked through the dim and oppressive corridor, Benson pondered the comparison of forces between the two sides.
"With just these people, might it be challenging to confront those heretics? After all, they are a long-established cult, while we've only recently been founded."
"Rest assured, the power bestowed by the 'Lord' is more than enough to crush these heretics."
Evans led Benson into another room where the thirteen members of the "Sons of Jacob" awaited. Upon seeing the two enter, they bowed their heads in greeting.
"Reverend, Mr. Benson."
"Mm."
The room was filled with wooden crates. Evans briefly acknowledged their greetings and then addressed Benson, who was holding the "Holy Scripture":
"While we shouldn't doubt the capabilities of Marilyn and Lord Arnold, we do have objective shortcomings compared to other churches in East London—shortcomings that can't be remedied in the short term. Therefore, we need some 'special means' to compensate."
Under Benson's puzzled gaze, Evans stepped forward and lifted the lid of one crate, revealing a layer of fine wood shavings and packing materials.
Nestled within the shavings were gleaming "Winchester" shotguns.
Gloria and the others, understanding his intent, opened the other crates, which contained not only the costly "Winchesters" but also large-caliber revolvers, double-barreled hunting rifles, and pistols.
Turning to see Benson's widened eyes, Evans smirked:
"These weapons were purchased using funds from our peripheral businesses, acquired from gangs like the 'Corey Brotherhood' and the 'Pyle Family.' They're enough to arm 25 to 30 people. Ha, those greedy scoundrels raised the price by at least 12% since we weren't familiar faces. Once this matter is settled, we'll have time to deal with them."
He let out a suppressed chuckle, spreading his arms toward the thirteen "Sons of Jacob."
"Now, let's show those stubborn cultists the undeniable authority of the 'Lord.'"
...
Zenoni's mansion was tightly sealed off by investigators from Scotland Yard and detectives from the police department; even Zenoni's own relatives were barred entry.
However, before the lockdown was enforced, some intrepid reporters risked arrest to sneak into the crime scene and snap photographs.
The newspapers tactfully omitted the battle damage in Zenoni's bedroom, focusing instead on his tragic death and the complete annihilation of his guards. They embellished their stories with imaginative details, producing at least ten different versions that hit the streets that very day, causing an uproar among the public.
"The Most Horrific Serial Killer in History!"
"Councilman Hires Assassin but Attempts to Frame the Killer—Should We Reflect on Britain's Corrupt Administration?"
"The Deceased Councilman's Hidden Past—He Actually..."HelloGitHub
"Inept Police Department! Citizens' Safety Needs Assurance."
In most of these papers, Zenoni's title of 'ward councilor' was simplified to 'councilman,' interspersed with a mix of half-truths, all printed in sensational tabloids that flooded the streets and alleys of London.
While these critiques of Westminster Palace and the police department dominated public attention, rumors began circulating within Scotland Yard about the notorious Wade Winston's return to London and his alleged confrontation with a suspected 'Mystic Mage.'
All these events served as nourishment for Lorian's growth.
"Boiling fear, burgeoning resentment..."
On the third floor of the "Cross of Atonement" headquarters, Lorian sat facing the window, inhaling the foul, decaying air of London with a sense of intoxication, savoring the impending scent of blood and gunpowder.
"How do you feel?"
Jack Arnold stood silently in the room's shadows. Upon hearing the question, he quietly sensed the layers of feedback coursing through him.
"I feel... my body is rapidly strengthening. Although no new abilities have emerged, my existing powers have undergone qualitative changes."
The methods of "spreading influence" and "propagating reputation" could only serve as auxiliary means; the development of all abilities ultimately depended on individuals who had accepted the "vampire" blood. Jack Arnold was, to date, the most gifted human Lorian had encountered, far surpassing even the likes of the ghostly Benson and Evans.
With a slight wave of his hand, the shadows behind him clung to his fingertips.
They then transformed into fine, pitch-black threads, weaving into a net that, despite being bathed in the dim evening sunlight, showed little sign of weakening.
"Shadow Manipulation" was arguably Lorian's most versatile and promising ability.
It could be used for combat, camouflage, or travel.
Its