People are scared in America, my uncle is Dante

Chapter 204 Father Paul

"It's definitely bird flu! I saw on TV that this is what it looked like when bird flu broke out!"

"Bullshit! How could it be bird flu? I think it's just that leak from decades ago that polluted the coastal waters! These animals were all poisoned!"

Before we even reached the beach, a cacophony of voices drifted over.

A large number of islanders gathered on the beach by the island.

The sheriff and Dr. Sarah, who had been earlier, were now surrounded by the crowd and being questioned relentlessly, their faces grim.

On the beach in front of them, many more animal carcasses appeared.

Suren bypassed the arguing crowd and came to a shallow beach.

As the waves receded, the stiff animal carcasses were revealed on the sand.

He crouched down and found the body of a cat.

The cat's fur was matted from being soaked in seawater, its body was stiff, and its neck was a bloody mess.

This cat clearly didn't die of illness, nor did it appear to have been poisoned.

Suren used a stick to part the cat's fur, revealing two round, bloody holes on its neck.

At first glance, it looks like a snake bite wound.

But what puzzled Suren was that the skin and flesh around the wound were unusually dry and shriveled, as if the blood had been sucked out.

He looked at the cat and the other corpses nearby, and they were almost all like that.

The body was shriveled, and the wounds were almost all on the neck.

"vampire?"

These words suddenly popped into Suren's mind.

Aside from vampires, he couldn't think of any other monsters for the time being, such as this wound and the strange habit of only drinking blood and not eating flesh.

He stood up and looked towards the north side of the island.

Judging from the current situation, North Island has been abandoned for a long time and is home to a large number of wild animals, which is indeed the case.

A paradise favored by bloodthirsty monsters.

Just then, the conflict between the sheriff and Sarah in the distance and the islanders escalated.

The sheriff had one hand on his holster, but hesitated to draw his gun.

Just when the situation was at a stalemate, a woman dressed in a beige nun's habit came out holding a Bible.

Ignoring the corpses and stench scattered on the ground, she fanatically raised the Bible in her hand and cried out, "Do not panic, my brothers and sisters!"

The nun's voice was shrill, even drowning out the sound of the waves at one point.

"This is neither a disaster nor a disease!"

"This is a test that God has sent upon us! These lives lost are lambs offered as sacrifice for the Lord!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the previously noisy and bustling crowd miraculously fell silent.

The islanders looked at each other, their panic and anger gradually subsiding.

Some people made way for others, while others bowed their heads, clasped their hands, and began to pray.

In this town, the nun was Father Paul's right-hand woman, and no one dared to question her authority in public.

Suren, standing at a distance, took in all of this.

He originally planned to go to North Island to check out the situation, but now it seems that there's no need to go through all that trouble.

The farce subsided, and the islanders dispersed in twos and threes.

Sister Beverly held the Bible to her chest and walked alone down the cobblestone path toward the town, exuding a sense of pride in having completed her mission.

She was going to report this victory of faith to the priest.

"What an amazing sermon! I wonder if God would grant a miracle to such a generous stranger?"

A calm voice suddenly rang out from the roadside.

Sister Beverly stopped abruptly and turned around.

There was a young man with a full head of white hair, leaning lazily against the wall, playing with a pebble in his hand.

"An outsider?"

Beverly recognized him instantly.

A fleeting look of wariness and disgust crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by a compassionate expression.

"Lost sheep, if you are seeking God's blessing, please wait until 8 p.m.

She lowered her eyelids slightly and said, "As long as you are devout, the Lord will accept every suffering soul."

Suren casually tossed the pebble aside and said, "My employer is terminally ill and probably doesn't have much time to wait."

Suren looked at her and continued, "He was a devout believer all his life. If the nun could have great mercy and take me to witness the miracle you speak of, and heal my employer—I'm sure, with his wealth, he would be more than happy to allocate a generous grant to the church."

Hearing this, Beverly frowned, raised her head, and said in a tone that was a few degrees colder than before: "Can the grace of the Lord be measured by money? Your thinking is itself a blasphemy against faith."

"As it is written, the love of money is the root of all evil, and the Lord’s glory will never shine on someone as impure as you."

Suren listened to this righteous accusation without changing his expression and pulled out a thick wad of US dollars from his pocket.

The moment Sister Beverly saw the banknotes, her pupils contracted, her gaze lingered on them for a moment, and then quickly looked away.

She coughed suddenly to cover up her lapse in composure.

"Outsider, you've turned the holiness of the Lord into a transaction?!"

Suren didn't say anything, but simply handed the stack of banknotes forward.

Beverly's breathing quickened slightly, and she didn't immediately reach for it.

A few seconds later, she spoke, her voice much softer: "The Lord also teaches us to be tolerant of those who have gone astray, and the church—indeed needs the offerings of believers."

Beverly glanced around to make sure no one else was on the street, then quickly reached out and stuffed the banknotes into his sleeve.

She cleared her throat, her arrogance fading slightly, replaced by a reasonable demeanor: "God senses your sincerity. Come with me, and hopefully your employer is truly as devout as you claim."

Suren was already used to this; these people talked about all sorts of things, nothing more than fame and fortune.

If you really want to refuse, who's going to give you all this reasoning?

The two arrived at a house in the small town.

The priest did not live in the church, but had his own residence in the town.

At this moment, Sister Beverly was already standing respectfully in front of the door.

She straightened her clothes and gently knocked on the door: "Father Paul, a believer has come from afar with a generous offering, hoping to pray for a miracle from the Lord."

"Come in."

A slightly weak male voice came from inside the door.

The room was dimly lit, with blackout curtains blocking the sunlight from the windows, and only a few dim candles burning inside.

Father Paul sat on the sofa, wearing a black knit sweater, with his hands on his knees.

He exuded an aura of compassion and exhaustion.

Beverly entered the room and instinctively reached for the curtains: "Father, it's too dark in here—"

"No, Beverly, don't pull it open."

Father Paul abruptly raised his hand, his voice tinged with panic, "My body—cannot yet withstand the Lord's powerful light. That's enough, thank you."

He turned his head and looked at Suren standing outside the door. There was no arrogance or defensiveness in his eyes, only pure compassion.

"My child."

Father Paul's voice was gentle, as if he could truly sense all the suffering in the world: "You have crossed oceans to come to this land of suffering, what do you need me to do for you?"