Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

Beneath the ruins, rubble flew up.

A crimson figure leaped out of the pit and landed on the crumbling wall of the monastery.

The sword in her hand still retained a scorching red glow. With a swift flick, the blood on the sword flew out in a semi-circular arc, quickly washed away by the rain.

She glanced at the collapsed building and shook her head.

She was prepared for heavy casualties.

The Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs is very sensitive to this kind of thing, and newspapers and media will also keep pressing the issue. If someone actually dies, the follow-up will be extremely troublesome.

The top-tier lady stepped down from the ruins and came to the edge of the broken corridor.

Abbot Augustus and several priests were standing in the rain, talking closely.

"What's the casualty situation?" she asked.

"By Saint Joshua," Dean Augustine sighed, "Although the main building of the North Wing has returned to dust, no one has perished so far."

No one died?

She felt this was a particularly unreal idea.

I glanced back at the collapsed building, the shattered ground, and the lingering smell of blood in the air.

"really?"

"Yes, thanks to... the miracle of St. Joshua!" The abbot looked toward the infirmary.

The top-tier lady walked gracefully into the medical room.

The area was filled with wounded soldiers.

The seriously injured lay still, breathing with difficulty, but were out of danger. The lightly injured were able to walk and talked about their relief at surviving the ordeal.

Priests and nuns moved about with hot water, bandages, and medicine, bringing much-needed stability to the place.

Indeed... there were no corpses of people who died suddenly, and no family members broke down in tears.

The common people are fine.

This relieved Miss Superior.

It is very common for high-level ability users to cause casualties in the aftermath of battles within the city.

Her gaze swept across the bustling crowd and landed on Gordon, who was surrounded by Vera, Charlotte, Eve, and Luanna. She raised an eyebrow and quickly realized what had happened.

It seems there is no trace of St. John Sua; it is Gordon Vic.

Or was he sent by St. John Sua?

It's hard not to be happy when someone can do something like that.

Miss Supermodel looked at Gordon for a long time, nodded silently, and then turned and left.

……

evening.

At St. Bartholomew's Monastery, a guest room has been temporarily converted into a hospital ward.

The last rays of sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a reddish glow on the oak floor, and the room was filled with the smell of holy oil and rubbing alcohol.

Gordon lay on the bed, his belongings neatly arranged beside him.

Vera sat on one side of the bed.

"He eats too little and does too much," Vera attributed the problem to food.

"You should all stay at my house," Charlotte complained. "The Montfort family has plenty of food."

"That place can be quite stressful at times, don't you think?" Eve said tactfully.

"Pressure? I don't feel any pressure," Charlotte said, puzzled.

Luanna sat in the only cushioned armchair, examining the golden mask repeatedly.

"Gorden rescued a whole bunch of priests, police officers, and investigators." She calculated carefully, "Considering the prestige he gained, the goodwill he earned from the church, and the gratitude he received from the survivors, today's gains are actually quite considerable."

"He's unconscious," Charlotte questioned.

"With so many beauties surrounding him, concerned about his life or death, it must be a very happy thing for him. Besides, without his help, there would have been at least 20 more corpses today, the monastery would have closed down, the auction house's reputation would have collapsed, and the church and the administration would have shifted the blame to each other. I say it's worth it." Luanna put on her golden mask and observed Gordon on the sickbed through her narrow eye sockets.

"You've got it all figured out. I don't like this." Charlotte hugged Gordon's arm and pressed her cheek against his arm.

"You don't like anything, you only like him. Sigh, Charlotte, you probably don't even know how to trade stocks." Luanna shook her head.

"Someone like you would never understand, never will..." Charlotte rubbed her face against Gordon's arm.

"Who's talking about stock trading?" Gordon opened his eyes.

Four pairs of eyes simultaneously fell on his face.

Gordon first saw Vera's eyes so close to his, then the fleeting worry on Charlotte's face, Eve's smile, and Luanna wearing a mask.

"Calm down." Gordon was worried that the mask might trigger some mysterious mechanism.

"Oh, are you worried about me?" Luanna was delighted.

"I guess so. I genuinely care about the safety of all my valuables."

"When did you wake up?" Eve asked.

"Start with 'He doesn't eat enough'."

"So you heard everything." Vera nodded.

"I've heard some very valuable feedback, and I'm genuinely happy to hear you talking about me behind my back, and not too much negativity."

Gordon tried to get up, and Vera reached out to support his back, while Charlotte placed a pillow behind him. The two moved almost simultaneously and exchanged a glance halfway through.

There was a knock on the door at that moment.

Abbot Augustine, dressed in white robes, noticed that Gordon had woken up and his expression immediately became excited.

"Mr. Vic, thank you, St. John Sua. If it weren't for your timely organization of the rescue, the casualties today would be unimaginable."

"The main reason is that everyone is willing to put in the effort."

This novel was first published on [website name].

"You saved eleven of our brothers, and St. Bartholomew's Monastery will forever remember this kindness," the abbot said emotionally.

The auctioneer next to him had changed back into monk's robes.

"St. Bartholomew's Abbey will waive all your auction fees for today, refund 61 gold pounds, and provide after-sales service for your purchased items. If you attend the St. Bartholomew's Market again next year, you will have VIP seating and the privilege of previewing the catalog." The monk greeted Gordon.

"Very good, very good." Gordon was very pleased.

"The news has already spread among the survivors, and the Archbishop of the Royal Church will also hear about what happened today. Mr. Vic, you have shown true kindness and courage! May you have the protection of St. John Sua on your future path." Dean Augustine nodded.

"Thank you." Gordon's spirits lifted slightly.

The Royal Church still retains a certain influence in this country, and St. John the Baptist is a true god who has actually manifested himself, so dealing with this group has many benefits.

After the group from the monastery left, Luanna also got up.

"I should go now." She waved the golden mask in her hand. "You said you wanted to see this, right?"

"I want to try," Gordon said, reaching out his hand.

"No." Luanna hugged the mask back to her arms. "If you come to my ball that day, I can lend it to you."

"Are you worried I won't go to the ball?"

"You guessed right." Luanna smiled at Gordon. "I want to see more fun and interesting changes happen to you. I'm going to use something interesting to lure you in."

After she left, the room finally became quieter.

"Has she always been like this?" Gordon asked Charlotte.

"I don't have a strong impression of her," Charlotte recalled slowly, "but people who know her are usually very afraid of her."

Gordon moved his fingers to confirm that he was only tired from using a lot of source energy and had not suffered any long-term damage.

He soon heard a conversation coming from next door. One voice was calm and composed, belonging to Martin, while the other was bright and capable, perhaps belonging to the top investigator from earlier that day.

Gordon wants to go and take a look.

"You should rest," Charlotte complained.

"Let's see if Martin has the energy to give me credit now." Gordon went over to check.

Separated by a wall, there is a temporary ward.

Martin sat on the bed.

He was wrapped in thick bandages, his face was still pale, and the table next to him was covered with incident reports and a cup of black coffee.

The top-tier lady stood in front of the window.

She wore a short cloak, a red scarf around her neck, and her mechanical sword leaned against the wall.

[A transforming greatsword. Fulfilling many of your fantasies.]

Just hours ago, she fought against an incredibly powerful enemy who could slice through buildings, but now she looks completely unharmed and seems ready to take on another battle at any moment.

The top-tier beauty is indeed capable of taking on important responsibilities.

"You woke up earlier than I expected," Martin said, looking at Gordon.

"No, it's you. I thought you were going to be unconscious until tomorrow, but you even kept getting your coffee refilled."

"Let me formally introduce you." Martin introduced the Special Investigator to Gordon, "Miss Scarlett, Special Investigator of the Department of Paranormal Affairs, and senior manager of the Blackwater River Project."

"Hello." Scarlett turned around and extended her hand to Gordon.

"Gordon Vick, trainee investigator, college student, part-time demon hunter."

"I saw it. You saved the scene, you saved everyone before you collapsed. Martin kept praising you in various ways, but I always thought it was just empty words."

"Oh? He said it himself? Or did he just scribble it down in that mysterious notebook?"

"Yes, we have both," Scarlett chuckled.

"Who were the people who attacked the monastery today? A swordsman merman?"

"Yes, his name is Severin, a high-ranking member of the Blackwater Order. He arrived quickly. He's very strong and not easy to deal with, but I severely injured him, so he won't pose a threat for the time being."

Gordon could imagine that the underground confrontation must have been extremely dangerous.

"He was driven back?"

"Yes, he fled to the babbling chapel. During the pursuit, I heard singing in that direction, and the Blackwater Hermits were also gathering there."

"Ningning?"

"It's uncertain, but in any case, this is our best chance yet. We'll soon launch a full-scale assault on the Flood Chapel and see if we can end this anomaly." Scarlett glanced at the sudden downpour outside. "I'll immediately request the mobilization of the Imperial Army, Royal Anglican Knights, and Hunters."

She didn't deliberately create a serious atmosphere; she simply explained a task briefly.

"Will we be needed?" Gordon asked. "I mean, will we get paid?"

Scarlett glanced at him.

Martin wasn't surprised at all.

"Yes, Miss Cartrett, Ms. Grant, Mr. Vic, if you wish, each of you will receive an operating allowance of 150 gold pounds," Scarlett said.

Gordon's recently empty wallet is now showing signs of reviving.

"And the other spoils? The source material, the murloc treasure."

"Things that are too dangerous need to be studied and sealed away first, while regular treasures and assets are distributed according to contribution," Scarlett explained.

"How is it? Sounds like the treatment is fairly normal." Gordon turned his head.

"You go, I'll go," Vera said.

"If you don't go, I will." With the ever-burning lantern, Eve finally had the courage to go deep underground. "Even without money, I would find it hard to refuse the opportunity to investigate the ancient underground palace."

Charlotte's expression was complicated.

She was clearly not mature enough to step into a dangerous battlefield.

Looking back now, it seems that the hard-won source material shouldn't have been used to make cakes.

Gordon turned his attention to attacking the chapel in the flooded area.

Due to the continuous torrential rain, the underground chapel has been flooded. His water control ability can be of great use there, as it can directly separate waterways. The rat bar can also detect various secret passages and hidden paths, catching Olivia and her companions off guard.

With top investigators from the agency, the military, and church knights leading the charge, the Battle of Blackwater, which had been brewing for months, now seemed to be finally about to begin.

After Scarlett left, Martin propped himself up on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you," Martin said.

"Hey bro."

Martin looked intently at Gordon. He knew very well how badly he had been injured, and he knew how much effort Gordon had put in and how terrifying his talent had been when he pulled him back from the brink of death.

What happens next will determine whether the Blackwater River can be truly controlled.

Just as Gordon previously proclaimed, we should win over those on the periphery, divide those on the middle, and physically eliminate the ringleaders.

Now is the time to eliminate them.

He took a deep breath and then spoke slowly.

"A final offensive could happen at any moment, and it may be the toughest conflict we've ever faced. But if we succeed, we might take down Olivia and Severin, two formidable enemies, and figure out where the mermaids are. That would be a real achievement for you, at least."

"Understood." Gordon looked out at the sudden rain, knowing without being reminded that it was time to put an end to all of this.