Organ rental company in another world

The cat-man Gondor stayed in the church for an hour, and when he came out, the excitement he had shown when he went in was gone.

"How did it go? Did it pass?" Several believers rushed forward, completely surrounding Gundo.

Gundo shook his head. "I don't know. We'll only know the result on the day the initiation process ends, but I have a feeling it's unlikely."

Upon hearing this, some people gloated, while others offered words of comfort.

"Hey, what's their selection process? Do they ask questions? Or..." Finally, someone asked a question that everyone was concerned about.

Gondola didn't hold back and told them the whole process.

First, Dante and the others would sit there, neither asking questions nor speaking, and quietly observe the candidates. Once they had observed enough, His Holiness the Pope would read out all the information about the candidates, including where they came from, what they had done, and why they were selected.

Then they will ask some questions about the Bible. These questions are sometimes simple, just questions of memorization, and sometimes profound, requiring candidates to explain the content of the Bible in light of their own understanding.

Because Gondor was born in the barren desert of the Demi-human Federation, he had never read many words and was not very familiar with the Holy Scriptures. In addition, this was his first time participating in such a grand occasion, so he stumbled over his words. Dante and the others maintained a serious expression throughout.

"Sigh, I guess I'm not qualified. I must study hard to learn to read from now on!" Gundo sighed and left the crowd.

After hearing Gondola's introduction, the others were sincerely grateful to this vanguard.

Although initiation takes place every five years and has been going on for so many years, there have been many rumors circulating in the church about it. But rumors are just rumors, and none of them have the same substance as the oral account given by Gundo.

Gondor's words quickly spread, and believers took out their holy books. Those who didn't have any either showed them to the people next to them or rushed home to get them.

They had read the contents of the Bible countless times, but just in case, they still reviewed the proverbs they had read so many times, and a noisy recitation sound instantly filled the church.

Soon, the name of the next candidate was announced:

"Jace Houghton—"

Among the believers, a young man suddenly looked up. Before he could even feel joy, he held the Bible and began to recite it at lightning speed. He then quickly squeezed through the crowd and headed towards the church.

When it was almost time, he suddenly realized that carrying the holy book inside would expose his last-minute cramming. So he tossed the holy book heavily onto the steps.

Upon seeing this, the cultist outside who was relaying the message frowned and reached out to stop the excited Jess.

"What are you doing? His Holiness the Pope and the others are still waiting for me!" Jess appeared nervous, but in reality, he was afraid that he would forget the contents of the book in a few seconds.

"Please return. The Holy Kingdom cannot accept someone who doesn't even cherish the Holy Scriptures!" With that, the follower lifted his robe, revealing the Holy Scriptures, their edges already worn and patina-covered, which were chained inside.

Jess was speechless for a moment. Despite his deep regret, he could only leave with remorse, picking up the holy book from the ground and stuffing it into his pocket.

The believers below clapped and cheered, hurling insults at the clown.

"Carmena Aira—"

"Hahaha! It's finally my turn!" a blind old woman shrieked with laughter.

Her white robe was tattered and patched with many light-colored fabrics.

Although she was blind, she insisted that her son read the Bible to her every day. Even though she could not see, she could accurately tell you which page, line, and word it was if you asked her.

A young man, not wearing a white robe, was supporting her; he was clearly her son.

"Leave her to me, I'll support her." A parishioner took the arm the man offered and led the blind woman into the church, leaving her son behind, wiping away tears.

But a short while later, the old woman came out cursing.

"What utter nonsense! It's all a lie! They didn't even ask about the Holy Scriptures, but he asked me what the Holy Emperor looks like? Damn it, how would a blind man like me know?!"

Her son rushed over to support her, comforting her as he led her away from the crowd: "It's okay, it's okay, we can always come again next time."

"Next time? Next time won't be for another five years! I can't wait that long! I'm going to the Kingdom of Christianity to enjoy myself now!"

The mother and son walked away, chatting amongst themselves, leaving the believers bewildered.

"What's going on? Wasn't the test supposed to be on the sacred texts? Why are they asking this kind of question?"

"Exactly! Forget about that old blind man! Even we couldn't tell what the Holy Emperor looks like. They don't even allow faces to be carved on the statues of Bimbisara, how are we supposed to answer that?"

Just as the believers were in confusion, an older believer spoke up with a laugh:

"You're oversimplifying things. The test questions are tailored to each individual. They will give the test questions based on the candidate's characteristics. You either know the answer or you don't. Stop wasting your time."

The old man's name was called the next second. Compared to the previous people, he was extremely calm and walked into the church unhurriedly, staying for a full three hours before coming out.

"Hehehe, twenty years! I've been chosen four times in twenty years to enter the Holy Capital, and this time I've finally passed! Lord Dante has written his name in the annals!"

The old man was overjoyed, but he walked too fast, slipped, and fell, hitting the back of his head hard on the steps, and then fell silent.

By the end of the day, Dante and his companions had examined ten people, including the old and the young, the poor and the nobles. To prevent fatigue from leading to misjudgments, they decided not to continue the examinations, even though the day was still long. The canonizations for the day were now over.

Dante and his messengers left the church, mounted their horses, and went to the inn that the kingdom had prepared for them in advance.

The next morning, the bronze bells on the church were rung again.

The believers awoke from their light sleep, straightened their white robes, and regrouped around the church.

Although the chances of being called today are extremely slim, if they do call me and I don't come, I will not only lose this opportunity to enter the Church, but I will also be permanently expelled and barred from participating in future initiations.

The brown-robed messengers entered the main hall one after another through a side door and took their seats in the chairs. The Pope, holding the heavy book, stood before the altar and exchanged clasped hands with the messengers.

Dante's seat is empty.

At first, no one thought there was anything wrong with it.

The French Emperor is quite old; perhaps he just rested a little longer. Everyone has times when they wake up late.

The Pope even whispered to one of his followers to check on the situation in the side courtyard, his tone relaxed and showing a hint of goodwill and understanding.

However, the believer stopped in his tracks just as he reached the side door.

All eyes turned to the doorway at the same time.

Dante stood outside the door, the rising sun casting a golden glow behind him, turning his white hair a pale gold. His right hand dragged the ankle of a corpse.

It was the corpse of a middle-aged man. His face was completely white, and the piercing wound on his chest was clearly visible. His stiff posture indicated that he had been dead for a long time.

The Pope's face drained of color in an instant as he stared in horror at Dante, the French emperor, dragging the corpse into the hall.

Dante released his grip, and the corpse's ankle slammed against the stone slab with a dull thud.

He looked up at the Pope, his voice not loud, but it made the entire hall reverberate.

"Your Holiness, please provide an explanation."

"This man broke into my room last night and attacked me with black magic, and more importantly—"

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife as he looked at the Pope's face.

"This person was one of yesterday's candidates. Who allowed him to be admitted to the Sainthood? Give us an explanation."