"Please, have a seat." Jonathan extended his hand toward the worn-out wooden chair, and after seeing the extravagantly dressed woman sit down, he did the same.
Silence settled over the room, leaving Jonathan smiling awkwardly as the woman studied him from head to toe.
"I imagined you differently." The woman set her purse on the wooden table.
"And this is…" Jonathan wasn't nervous; he just didn't know how to start a conversation that obviously involved his former self and the Healing Church, which, if he remembered correctly, was an organization that fought against evil.
But of course, Jonathan knew that wasn't the whole story. That's why he let the woman speak first—to find a weapon he could use against this unfortunate situation.
"Why haven't you returned to your clan?" The woman was direct, clearly expecting answers.
"My clan?"
"The Belmonts were deeply concerned. You never returned after the mission you were assigned."
"The mission? Well… things didn't go exactly as planned." Jonathan remembered where he had woken up and suddenly understood: the priest in charge of this church, along with himself, had died during a mission to eliminate a dark entity.
But Jonathan woke up here, taking over the lifeless body of his former self, and since then had started working as an exorcist.
"What kind of thing did you encounter?"
"A dream-eater. Let's just say… there weren't just one or two—there were six of those creatures. We managed to defeat three of them, but the rest ambushed us." Jonathan seemed angry. He clenched his hands so tightly that blood dripped from his fingers.
The woman appeared to notice this and jotted some notes in a notebook. "How did you survive?"
"I didn't. Those things took parts of my memory… All that was left was my purpose and my name, and since then, I've continued working here, eliminating dark entities." Jonathan had worked hard to make this story convincing.
That was because he knew what the Healing Church truly was—and it was not something one could easily face, especially if they were as evil as he remembered.
It was said that behind a church claiming to fight evil, there were ambitions, power games involving forces beyond understanding… and true evil.
That's why, before he knew what he was up against, he needed to be cooperative.
The woman, an evaluator named Lis, followed Jonathan's gaze and said, "Now it all makes sense."
"Yes… Wait, what?"
"You haven't used the Healing Church's power, which made you disappear from our radar for so long that it triggered alerts. However, we'll provide new ways for you to contact us." Lis pulled a wooden box from her purse, inside of which were numerous cell phones.
"Are all the contacts included?"
"Yes, and please remember: before you decide to attack any members of the High Table, contact the Continental's manager, and he will authorize us to intervene." Lis said this for a reason—because of a recent job Jonathan had done, which left many assassins in hospital beds.
Lis stood up, checked the time, and said, "We'll send you a book containing your history, jobs, family, and clan. The effects of amnesia should wear off soon, but it will help you do your job better."
"Well, thank you."
"And we'll also send a team to renovate this church."
A kind smile appeared on Jonathan's face, and he said, "I need weapons."
"Yes, I'll write that down."
"And a vehicle."
"Alright."
"And explosives."
"Mr. Belmont, are you fighting dark entities or planning to blow up half the city to do it?" Lis looked at Jonathan with clear concern.
"Fine, just the weapons and the vehicle. I'd also like an assistant." Jonathan figured he could get explosives on his own.
But that wasn't the important thing now. What truly mattered was that there was a damn organization fighting dark entities, still operating in this world—and he was part of it.
And now it turns out that the Healing Church was also in an alliance with the High Order, and Jonathan had privileges others didn't.
Things were definitely getting interesting.
"Your assistant will arrive tomorrow. He'll handle church matters and assist with your assignments." Lis said goodbye to Jonathan, but not before adding: "By the authority granted to me, and considering your numerous successfully completed missions, you are hereby promoted to Four-Wing Exorcist Priest."
Jonathan immediately smiled. "Well, please let the higher-ups at the Healing Church know that I'm grateful to be considered for the rank."
"It doesn't matter. You should actually be several ranks higher due to your status in the Belmont clan. But if you rise too fast, the organization might misinterpret your promotions."
"I'm sure they will." Jonathan extended his hand to receive the dagger being handed to him, and once the formalities were over, he was left alone in the room.
Things had certainly changed. Being part of a legendary clan like the Belmonts—and knowing they truly existed in this world—opened a sea of possibilities for Jonathan, who had been cautious with every step so far.
But now that he knew who he really was, it explained all the strange things he kept in his room. "Well, I guess money won't be a problem anymore."
…
Once outside, Lis got into a black SUV and made a phone call.
"How is he?"
"He was injured, as we suspected—but he's still working." Lis looked at the church from across the street, focusing on the little bells that emitted a pleasant melody.
"Should we take care of it?"
"No, not yet."
"Keep an eye on my son."
"Yes, Great Mother."
…
A few hours later, in a private auditorium—
This place was known for its art and culture. Upon entering the massive building, one could admire numerous fantastic murals.
Today, the place had been occupied by various booths being set up for the afternoon exhibition.
Jonathan arrived early to familiarize himself with the area and plan an escape route in case anything happened. He didn't know if something would happen, but wherever he went, something usually did—and he never wanted to be caught off guard.
Also, knowing that horror film fans were here exhibiting their relics, chances were that at least one out of a thousand might be real. If that was the case, he should confiscate it—assuming it wasn't too dangerous and could be contained.
This was common practice in horror movies, which he used to criticize! And now that he was living them, it was better to be cautious.
Jonathan walked around and discovered that the building had a total of six exits—but only one was regularly kept open.
How is that even possible?
Even if you don't run into evil spirits every day, that's still a fire hazard!
So Jonathan pulled out the tools he had prepared ahead of time and, seeing no one nearby, began cutting the chains on the doors one by one. This way, he would have at least five viable escape routes.
If all went well, after the exhibition he could spend some money to buy new chains and repair the damage he caused without ill intent.
To finish, just in case, he placed a few bells that would help trap any evil that might be born inside the auditorium. And now that money wasn't a problem, he even placed silver crosses in some of the closed-off areas of the building.
"Well, that should be more than enough to protect this place." Jonathan wiped the sweat from his forehead and finally completed the preparations.
All that remained was to wait for the exhibition to begin. At the same time, someone else arrived early at the auditorium where the festival would take place.
"Laura, are you sure we'll find help here?" A brown-haired woman spoke. Her name was Renai, and she took off her sunglasses, her face showing the exhaustion from the long journey.
"Don't worry, Renai! I heard there will be real exorcists at this exhibition. I'm sure they'll find a way to wake your son." Laura seemed to know what she was talking about.
"I hope so." Renai looked worried.
She was just an ordinary housewife, shaken by the strange events following her son Dalton falling into a coma.
From time to time, she would hear the voice of a strange man coming from the radio, and her little daughter often cried for no reason.
At night, it always felt like someone was walking inside the house…
All of this tormented Renai—and the worst part was, she was the only one affected. Her husband never noticed anything.
The hospital had found nothing and had even considered ending the treatment.
Renai always believed it was the strange things in the house causing the problem.
But there was no proof, and not even her husband believed her. That's why she came here—to seek professional help.
As the hour approached, more and more people began to gather around the building.