Chapter 131 — Arrival at the Commission Site
Flora bit her lip, then reluctantly handed the journal over.
Gideon carefully tucked it away inside his coat.
"From this point on," he told her gravely, "I need you to stay away from this matter. And whatever happens—don't act alone."
Flora looked puzzled.
Seeing this, Gideon realized he needed to give the nun a brief lesson in self-preservation.
"You're just one person," he said gently. "Even if you uncover new clues, you can't change anything by yourself. You'd only end up losing your life."
He straightened, his tone calm but firm.
"And if that happens, it only gives those people more power. Stay patient. Vengeance doesn't have an expiration date—only the ones who survive to the end can truly win."
Flora nodded slowly, not quite grasping his idiom, but she understood the message.
"…Alright. I'll remember what you said."
Gideon smiled faintly, satisfied.
At that moment, a knock came at the door, followed by a familiar voice.
"Flora? Are you inside?"
It was Janie.
Flora's expression tensed. "She's one of them," she whispered.
Gideon understood immediately—Janie was among those trying to "ask" about Wynn's belongings.
He gave a single nod. "I'll take my leave."
"But how are you going to—"
Flora turned, but before she could finish, Gideon was already gone.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Outside, Janie's voice called again, a touch of impatience in her tone.
Flora quickly gathered herself and opened the door.
"I saw you weren't feeling well earlier," Janie said, smiling as she handed her a paper packet. "I brought you some medicine."
Flora accepted it politely, smiling back. "Thank you. I just lay down for a bit."
"Are you managing alright on your own? If you'd like, I could come stay with you for a few days."
As she spoke, Janie casually wandered around the small room, her eyes scanning every corner.
But there was no sign of anyone else.
Strange, she thought. I could've sworn I saw someone come this way.
Outside Dey Exorcism Academy
Gideon's silhouette flickered back into view at the academy gate.
In the instant the door had opened, he had used Holy Step to slip past Janie unnoticed.
"Talk about bad luck," he muttered under his breath.
He'd opened his holy supply shop next to the Dey Church precisely because of its convenient location—close enough for him to balance both his priestly duties and private business.
He hadn't expected to stumble right into a conspiracy this large the moment he settled in.
Moving the shop now wasn't realistic.
Not only would he lose a hefty security deposit, but his name would also be added to the Church's "breach-of-contract" blacklist—
since all of Dey Street's properties technically belonged to the Church.
And as a clergyman, getting blacklisted by your own institution made life… extremely difficult.
Still, Wynn's investigation had left him thinking.
The "Annabelle" case he'd taken earlier—perhaps that commission had also been tampered with.
If so, Archbishop Hans Hermann's true target might include Lorraine as well.
But why?
Factional struggle? Revenge?
That didn't fit—Lorraine wasn't part of any faction inside the Church.
And personal revenge? That made even less sense.
Hermann seemed to be targeting all Dey clergy, not just one.
"Could that bastard actually be trying to punish the Church itself?" Gideon muttered.
The clues were too scattered for him to draw conclusions yet—
but he'd make sure to find the truth.
After all, it involved his own holy oil.
And Gideon wasn't about to leave such a dangerous variable unchecked.
Just then, Judy's voice called out to him from across the courtyard.
He turned, smiled faintly, and waved.
Moments later, the four of them headed for the airport.
North Dakota
Local Time: 8:00 a.m.
This was the northernmost stretch of the Great Plains—endless farmland under a blazing sky.
Though rainfall was scarce, the long hours of sunlight made the soil fertile and agriculture prosperous.
The group rented a car at the airport and began driving west.
Outside the windows stretched a vast ocean of grass and wheat, with red harvesters roaring in the distance under the morning sun.
After about an hour, they reached a remote countryside road.
"According to the map," Silas said from the passenger seat, "the house should be about five hundred meters ahead."
"Then this is where we stop," Gideon said calmly.
The car lurched as he pressed the brake—
SCREEE—!
The sharp sound of metal scraping echoed as everyone jerked forward in their seats.
When the car finally stopped, the students looked at each other in confusion.
Gideon didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a monocular scope.
Through the curved lens, a distant image sharpened—
a pair of hollow, staring eyes.
Even from afar, Gideon could make out the old farmhouse.
The wooden panels were blackened with age, the outer walls strangled by creeping vines.
The whole place looked wrong—like a tumor growing out of the earth's green skin.
He gestured toward it and handed Judy another scope.
"Never approach a house suspected of harboring spirits before studying the terrain," he said. "It's the fastest way to die."
Judy nodded seriously, jotting notes in her little book.
The three academy students stared at each other, dumbfounded.
Since when was this exorcism theory? None of their instructors had ever said anything like that—
but the logic… actually made sense.
Without scopes of their own, Silas, Bente, and Zal shaded their eyes with their hands and squinted toward the horizon.
The farmhouse sat at the base of a low hill, fronted by a broad plain filled with rows of sunflowers, not yet fully grown.
"Sunflower stalks are tall," Gideon explained. "They block visibility and create blind zones. That makes them perfect cover for wandering spirits or demons."
He spoke with a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
"This area is our primary risk zone."
Judy nodded again, dutifully writing it all down.
The three academy students were stunned.
They had never considered anything like that—
to them, the sunflower field had simply looked pretty.
"But," Gideon continued, "since this commission involves a Bound Spirit, we don't know the extent of its control over the land. We'll need to deploy sacred wards at a wider radius. My standard recommendation—five hundred meters."
Gideon gestured toward the field ahead.
From his perspective, faint wisps of malevolent energy shimmered in the air like heat haze—barely visible, but unmistakable.
Judy, her spiritual sensitivity heightened after days of cleansing with high-grade holy water, could sense it too.
Beside them, the three academy students swallowed hard, their throats bobbing in sync.
"Isn't this… a bit too cautious?" Silas muttered.
They weren't wrong.
Across the entire Dey Exorcism Academy—no, across the entire Church—no one had ever conducted an exorcism quite like this.
Gideon, however, paid no mind to their doubts.
He knew one unshakable truth about surviving in this twisted, horror-ridden world:
Complacency kills.
After finishing his terrain assessment, Gideon reached into his satchel and pulled out a small holy effigy.
It was time to begin the standard defensive preparations.
Given the sheer size of the area, setting up a full protective perimeter was impossible.
So Gideon opted for a different method—one far riskier, but far more efficient:
Authority Theft.
Judy followed his lead, setting her own effigy into the grass beside his.
Both of them moved with careful precision, muttering soft Latin invocations under their breath.
Meanwhile, the three academy students stood there awkwardly, suddenly feeling like background characters in someone else's ritual.
They were supposed to be the professionals here—the elite students of Dey Academy.
And yet, compared to these two… they felt completely out of their depth.
"Ahem… Father Gideon," Silas finally spoke up, trying to sound helpful. "We can assist too!"
Gideon looked up with a smile. "Excellent. When facing demonic entities, you must always assume the worst. That means escape routes—plural. Never rely on just one."
He reached into his pack again and pulled out a bundle of lower-grade relics, each barely five years old, and handed them over.
"The remaining twenty evacuation lines are your responsibility."
"…How many?" Silas blinked.
"Twenty."
Silas froze, staring blankly for a few seconds before repeating, "T-twenty lines?"
He looked up at the blazing sun, then at the endless stretch of plains, and suddenly wondered—
Just what kind of life had this priest lived before he opened a shop near the Church?
They all knew by now that Judy wasn't Gideon's biological daughter.
But Silas remained convinced that this man must have come from one of the old Church bloodlines—a family with deep ties to ancient rites.
And so, under the scorching sun, a bizarre scene unfolded:
Three proud students of the prestigious Dey Exorcism Academy—respected across every state—
were now rolling up their sleeves and hauling relics like field workers.
If any ordinary priest were to see this, they'd probably faint on the spot.
After a while, the students were drenched in sweat, their robes stained with dirt and holy ash.
But finally, their work brought them close to the farmhouse itself.
Then—a voice broke the silence.
"Are you… people from the Church?"
It was soft, uncertain, carrying a tremor of fear.
Everyone looked up to see a young girl standing a short distance away, dressed in a plain white T-shirt.
Jess Solomon.
Her long brown hair fluttered in the breeze as she instinctively crossed her arms, feeling their collective gaze fall upon her.
"You're Jess, the client?" Silas asked.
The girl nodded slightly.
"I saw your car stop way down the road," she said. "But… why did it take you so long to get here?"
Her question hung awkwardly in the air.
The three students exchanged uneasy glances—
and, without a word, all turned their eyes toward Father Gideon.