American Variety: Scientific Exorcism

Scavenger, as the name suggests, is a profession and refers to the cleaning workers in the city who are responsible for cleaning, collecting garbage and delivering it to designated collection points.

But in the dark corners, there are also a group of people who call themselves scavengers.

But this group of shady scavengers are responsible for a different kind of cleanup work. They are even responsible for erasing all traces of crime scenes, covering up evidence, and removing obstacles for the killer.

You can often collect a considerable fee from the killer or the person who posted the reward.

Recalling the phone number introduced by Yohan, the God of Death, and the scavenger with an unusually low presence, Yorks took out his mobile phone and made a call.

"Hello, this is Old Boy Cleaning Company. Do you need anything cleaned?"

Yorks subconsciously glanced at the dirt on the door. He had never been in the world of killers, and he didn't know what to express. Should he directly describe the corpse, or use other words instead.

After thinking about it seriously, Yorks said calmly.

"Animal parts and some humanoid flesh, uh, and rotten tomatoes, uh, a lot of ketchup..."

"kindness?"

It was clear that the receptionist at the old boy cleaning company was stunned by what Yorkes said.

Yorks frowned slightly, and there was a trace of doubt in his heart, doubting the professionalism of this cleaning company.

Fortunately, the other party responded immediately, "Okay, sir, what is your address?"

York's eyebrows relaxed, and he gave his address and confirmed name.

"…Church of Pluto…"

"Pluto Church? OK, sir, the cleaners will be there soon. Please wait a moment. Thank you for your call."

Hearing this, Yorks hung up the phone and felt a lot better, but when he thought of the furniture inside, he couldn't help but rub his face.

"Oh, I have to close tomorrow and go out to do some shopping."

At this moment, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly sounded in my ears, which was more chaotic than before, alert and anxious.

Yorks was moved in his heart. He did not pick up the SHAK-12 next to him, but looked at the door about ten meters away.

Seven or eight seconds later, the first burst of exclamations sounded.

"Oh my God! What happened?"

"..."

A group of people with guns appeared at the door, some were old, some were middle-aged, and some were young. They were all holding their own hunting rifles, shotguns, etc. They saw the blood and some dirt flowing outside, He rushed into the door with an anxious look on his face.

"Will Father York be okay?"

"..."

As soon as they finished their worried words, they suddenly saw a tall priest wearing divine robes sitting on the steps, looking at them with a smile on his face.

"Father York?" They were all dumbfounded, with confused expressions on their faces.

"Well, good evening, everyone."

Looking at these people wearing pajamas, looking at their anxious faces, Yorks felt a warmth in his heart.

These people are basically the residents near the church. Even if you don't think about it in the past life, as of now, if he can be a priest and ask the residents of the United States to bring guns to help, it is really not in vain.

"Well?"

Everyone was stunned and quickly put away their guns, as if in front of the priest, the gun was the original sin.

"Father York, are you okay?"

The leader was an old man with the air of an old cowboy. He didn't even ask about the humanoid corpse on the ground. Instead, he asked about Yorkshire's condition first.

Yorks shook his head and said with a smile, "Mr. Woodlow, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."

As he spoke, Yorks glanced around, looked at everyone in front of him, and said seriously again.

"Thank you very much for coming. Pluto Church will always remember this night. There is a group of warriors who dare to meet and face danger for it..."

This was too exaggerated, but it also sounded good. Everyone who already had faith looked at each other, their eyes sparkling and their faces full of glory, as if they were really protecting something important.

"Father, you are too kind."

The leader, the old man Woodrow, clenched the handle of his shotgun, coughed dryly, and motioned to the dirt and corpses at the door, not caring about the reason.

"Then... do you need our help with these?"

Yorks continued to shake his head and said gently,

"I've called the cleaning company."

Because of the American characteristics, everyone understood it instantly, and the old cowboy Woodrow raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Okay, then we go back?"

"Yeah." Yorks smiled and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

"Good night everyone, the Lord is with you."

Everyone quickly returned the gift,

"Good night, Father."

"..."

Watching Mr. Woodlow and his group leave, Yorks was a little moved when he recalled what had just happened.

All in all, he understood it and remembered it.

However, it was not just a matter of Mr. Woodlow and his group. The dazzling lights and sirens of the police cars appeared one after another just after they left.

Yorks squinted his eyes and looked at the red and blue light in the distance without any panic.

This is the norm in the United States. No matter what happens, American people always call 911 first after ensuring their lives are safe.

For example, Mr. Woodlow and others came over with guns, but they were actually very rare and very unusual. Of course, this also showed that he was quite competent as a priest in disguise.

"Lord, please remember my hard work!"

Yorks muttered to himself and walked towards the door. As soon as he reached the door, three police cars were parked on the opposite side of the street, and a group of police officers rushed out of the cars with vigilant faces.

Body armor, a pistol in each hand, and even two police officers holding two rifles to accompany them. This is almost the equipment of an ordinary police officer.

But what surprised York was that the leaders were actually two acquaintances, Baker and Jeffrey...

"Be alert! Stay safe!"

Jeffrey, the leader, waved his hand and took the lead in rushing toward the church.

Jeffrey's face was extremely solemn, but he didn't think anything would happen to the priest. A person who could deal with demons would only be a dimension-reducing blow to ordinary people.

He was wide awake.

Sure enough, just as he thought, the priest wearing divine robes was already standing at the door of the church waiting for them.

"stop!"

Jeffrey immediately stopped the rhythm.

The police officers behind him looked at each other, looked at the priest over there, and stopped sensibly.

"Beck."

Jeffrey motioned to Baker and asked him to take charge here.

Beck understood the meaning and nodded immediately.

Seeing this, Jeffrey put away his Glock 19 and strode towards the priest standing by the church door...

"Officer Jeffrey?"

After watching the whole process and looking at Jeffrey walking up to him, Yorks smiled calmly.

"How will you be here?"

According to Jeffrey's situation, the area he is responsible for should be in the center of New York, not the suburbs.

Jeffrey glanced at the blood, pieces of flesh, and even the non-human body beside the door, and without asking why, he talked about another topic.

"Well...Father York, I took over Sheriff Boris's job."