Chapter 132 — The Power of the Bound Spirit
Following the three students' gaze, Jess finally looked toward the young priest.
He was strikingly handsome, his expression calm yet piercing—and perhaps around her own age.
But as soon as their eyes met, Jess froze.
The priest was staring straight at her, his gaze unwavering.
After a few seconds of silent eye contact, Jess quickly turned her head away, her heartbeat picking up pace.
Ever since moving to this desolate countryside with her family, she'd barely interacted with any boys her age.
Now, being studied so intently made her feel both uneasy and strangely self-conscious.
She was about to change the topic when she realized—
the priest had begun slowly circling her, scrutinizing her from head to toe.
The three academy students immediately prepared to condemn this suspicious behavior in their minds…
Until they noticed Judy doing the exact same thing.
The small girl and the priest stood side by side, both wearing the same thoughtful expression, occasionally whispering to each other while glancing at Jess.
"I-Is there… something wrong with me?" Jess asked nervously, shifting on her feet.
"Miss Jess," Gideon said gently, "please drink this vial of holy water. Afterward, I'll need to ask you a few questions."
Jess hesitated.
She looked up at him again—at the calm, kind eyes behind the serious expression—and thought to herself, someone who looks like that wouldn't lie.
With a small nod, she pulled out the cork and drank.
A faint shimmer rippled across her body, and Gideon's tense expression finally eased.
The traces of malevolent energy clinging to her soul evaporated like mist in sunlight.
"Good," he murmured. "Now—aside from the occasional ghostly figure you mentioned, have you noticed anything else unusual lately?"
As they traveled here, Gideon had sensed scattered remnants of demonic aura—but no sign of a true Bound Spirit.
Even when he'd quietly recited an exorcism prayer earlier, the only effect had been to cleanse the area around them.
That didn't match the expected 'Danger' classification of this mission at all.
Jess bit her lip. "I… once went down into the basement. But…"
Her voice faltered.
She'd told her father about it before, but he hadn't believed a word she said.
Gideon spoke softly, his tone steady and reassuring.
"Evil spirits are cunning. Sometimes they'll deliberately torment a single victim—isolating her, making others doubt her sanity. Once she's left alone… the spirit can move in and claim her completely."
Jess's eyes widened.
He had just described her situation perfectly.
"Yes!" she said eagerly, nodding hard. "That's exactly what's been happening! It's happened more than once. But each time, only my little brother and I can see them. And he… he can't speak anymore."
Gideon's gaze softened. "You've suffered greatly, Miss Jess. Yet despite that fear, you still reached out to the Church for help. That means you're trying to protect your family. That's something to be proud of."
Jess's eyes shimmered, warmth blooming in her chest.
No one—no one—had said something like that to her in a long time.
"I understand now…" she whispered, taking a deep breath as if gathering courage.
"For the past few weeks, my brother has started… looking for those things on his own. I'm terrified, so I stay with him constantly. I wanted to tell my parents, but after what happened two years ago… they don't trust me anymore."
The others exchanged glances, surprised.
Jess, as it turned out, hadn't always been the quiet, frightened girl standing before them.
Two years ago, she'd been what the Church called a "problem child."
She hung out with boys, drank underage, skipped classes—rebellious, reckless, and free.
Then came the night of the accident.
Her mother had gone to the airport to pick up her father, leaving Jess in charge of picking up her younger brother from school.
She'd been drinking earlier that evening—barely enough to feel dizzy, but enough to dull her reflexes.
What followed was tragically predictable.
Alcohol. A car. A single moment of distraction—
and a crash that shattered her family's life forever.
Her brother survived, but lost the ability to speak.
The hospital bills consumed two decades of the family's savings.
And soon after, her father lost his job.
Everything that had once been bright in Jess's world turned cold and gray.
The string of misfortunes had plunged Jess's family into poverty overnight.
The accident, the hospital bills, her father's unemployment—it had all struck one after another, leaving scars that never quite healed.
For Jess, the guilt had festered into a wound that never closed.
But she could never bring herself to speak to her parents about it.
She could still hear her mother's screams echoing through the hospital corridor—
"Why wasn't it you in that bed!?"
Those words burned into her heart.
Since that day, all she could do was try to become a different person—
to bury the wild, reckless girl she used to be.
As she spoke, her voice trembled, but there was also a faint sense of release—
as if finally confessing it all had lifted some of the weight crushing her chest.
Gideon listened quietly, then sighed in thought.
"No drinking and driving… I should probably add that to the exorcism safety manual."
Beside him, the three academy students looked astonished.
They hadn't expected the client to open up so quickly, or so completely.
In exorcism studies, psychological guidance was considered one of the hardest but most essential skills.
A client's testimony often held the key to understanding a haunting—but those testimonies were rarely reliable.
People who'd encountered demons or ghosts were usually traumatized, frightened, or delirious.
Their memories came out fragmented, exaggerated, or distorted.
And in exorcism work, even a small error in information could mean death.
That was why counseling and rapport-building were mandatory in the academy's beginner-level curriculum.
But the truth?
Most students—Silas included—barely passed that course.
Clients tended to be wary, defensive, even hostile.
Yet this priest had managed to win Jess's full trust in mere minutes—faster than any of their instructors ever could.
"…I think Father Gideon gave her the holy water first," one of them muttered.
"And then… he actually listened to her pain," another added thoughtfully.
They replayed his calm tone and measured gestures in their heads, realizing he'd turned a confession into a healing act.
After Jess regained her composure, she began describing the strange phenomena that had occurred recently in the house.
It was then that Gideon finally began to grasp the true ability of the Bound Spirit.
According to Jess's testimony, the spirit possessed the terrifying power to "soften" solid matter—turning walls, floors, or even the ground itself into something viscous and unstable.
Once, in the basement, she'd seen the concrete floor dissolve into a black swamp.
Ghostly hands had reached up from the depths, clutching at her ankles, trying to drag her down.
Gideon frowned slightly.
This ability did appear in the original "case file"—but in that version, the entity responsible had been a restless wraith, not a bound spirit.
In Jess's description, however, the wraiths acted more like servants or enforcers—not the true source of the curse.
And it wasn't limited to the house.
Even the sunflower fields surrounding it had begun to change.
Jess claimed that one night, she'd seen the soil come alive.
The earth had rippled like water, rising and twisting until it formed the shape of a gigantic figure—
a monster made of dirt and roots—
locked in combat with… something else.
That detail caught Gideon's full attention.
He immediately asked Jess to take them to the spot where it happened.
When they arrived, he crouched down, scooped a handful of soil, and rubbed it gently between his fingers.
A faint vibration lingered—like a memory left in the land itself.
"There was definitely a clash of powers here," he murmured to himself.
"But whatever caused it has long since vanished."
He straightened, turning toward the students.
"In the academy's records," he asked, "have there ever been cases of evil spirits fighting over territory?"
Silas shook his head.
"Very rarely. Bound spirits are fiercely possessive. Once they claim a domain, it's practically impossible to dislodge them—unless a powerful demon intervenes."
"A powerful demon, huh…" Gideon's brows knit together.
"That can't be right," Silas added quickly. "A demon of that level can only descend through a summoning ritual. And if that ever happened, the Church would immediately reclassify the case as Catastrophic."
He was certain of it.
"Maybe we should check the house first," Bente suggested. "We might find more evidence inside."
The others nodded in agreement.
But Gideon… felt a cold ripple of unease run down his spine.
Wait—no.
Something about that suggestion rang wrong in his head.
His mind flashed back to what Flora had told him before they left—the warnings about the false mission files, the manipulated data.
This idiot didn't just walk straight into the trap, did he?!
Without warning, Gideon's expression shifted.
In the students' stunned gazes, he abruptly took several quick steps backward—then turned on his heel and retreated all the way to where they'd parked the car.
"W-what's going on!?" the others panted, running after him.
"Charging in recklessly is dangerous," Gideon said flatly. "I feel safer over here."
The group stared at him, dumbfounded.
Even Judy looked a little embarrassed—her mentor's shameless caution wasn't exactly heroic.
But Gideon didn't care about appearances.
He was still thinking logically, still alive—and that was what mattered.
He turned to Jess.
"Are your parents home right now?" he asked.
He needed to confirm that the entire family was still human—still themselves—before making his next move.
"They went into town," Jess said quietly. "They said they wanted to consult an agriculture expert about… something."
Gideon frowned. "Something?"
Jess hesitated.
"Dad said… the sunflower field seems to be dying."