The Modern Age of the Mysterious

After a sumptuous lunch at the nearby Apennine restaurant, the four of them took a stroll into the Central Park again.

During the lunch break, there are few pedestrians here.

Today is a rare sunny day in winter, and the sun shines on the river that is temporarily free of waterfowl.

Sean knew that the wind was blowing, not only because of the whirring sound, but also because of the dry leaves rubbing against the ground, and the sun smashed by the river for a while.

Ahead, Arya Dickinson was holding a pack of popcorn that she had just bought from a roadside vendor, squatting among a group of pigeons, spreading her slender hands, feeding the cooing pigeons.

She turned her head with a happy smile on her face, as if to say: Look at Sean, so many pigeons!

Sean walked forward with his hands behind his back, with a smile similar to the winter sun on his face.

Olivia Wind Chime walked by Sean's side, and turned her head to look at the other side of the river in a leisurely manner - there was a pair of old people walking with each other's arms.

This scene inexplicably moved her a little.

Winnie 1902 was holding her husband, and the two walked at the back. The mischievous moonlight seemed to tell a joke. Winnie blushed with laughter...

Two indoctrination officers in black uniforms with shiny double-breasted buttons passed by.

When they saw these gentlemen and ladies, who were dressed in fashion and well-mannered, obviously enjoying their leisure time, they nodded slightly: "I wish you all a nice day."

Sean raised his hat in return with a subtle feeling: "Thank you, sir - I wish you a good day too."

After passing by, Sean's smile didn't change, but he felt that the scene just now was full of irony——

The two indoctrination officers didn't know that a certain corner of Sean's soul was manipulating a body named Shawshank Rogers, located in a mansion in the middle of a farm that no one would set foot in a hundred kilometers outside New York City. , is finishing the transcription of the disallowed minority belief classics...

While Shawshank placed "Long Poems of the Night Wind" on the large table, the number of handwritten books with black covers and the silhouettes of gilded nightingales on the black covers was gradually increasing...

These faith classics written in the spiritual world are different from ordinary paper books.

Shawshank will explain to the believers about the specific special points at the first meeting later.

The bright sky light outside the window could not penetrate a layer of fog outside the spiritual world-the layer of fog was like a distorted filter, even if someone stood outside, they could only see a deserted wooden house.

Outside the black mansion, as if it was still night, the flames in the fireplace illuminated Shawshank Rogers' face...

With a satisfied smile on his face—

Although the energy that comes with the independent spirit room is almost exhausted, everything is ready.

At this moment, the founder of the esoteric sect before the neatly stacked "Long Poems of the Night Wind", and the New Testament reporter in the central park surrounded by a flock of pigeons, had almost identical smiles on their faces.

————

Time passed quickly, and soon it was the first mission night.

In the day before the body that manipulated Shawshank Rogers was dispatched, Sean was not idle either-he had been thinking about the "starting" arrangement.

"There is no doubt that the first group of believers is very crucial." Sean judged.

It is not enough to rely on Shawshank to promote alone, the first batch of people also undertake the mission of "word of mouth"...

However, Sean also knows that it is difficult for him to attract those middle-class people who have a certain spirit of skepticism, and even believe in the Salvation Religion from the beginning...

The higher the stratum, the greater the difficulty of naturalization.

Therefore, Sean finally set his sights on the "downtown" that has undergone drastic changes recently.

"There is still quite a lot of 'gold' in this 'stinky ditch' in the eyes of the rich." Sean never believed that birth decides everything.

Gu is not only because this place is easier to attract believers in the early days, but also because he believes that all people have potential.

So, he chose to start in the lower city...

Mr. Shawshank Rogers, now wearing a somewhat old black suit. He restrained that mysterious and oppressive temperament, and looked like an ordinary passerby.

The eyes of this ordinary passerby exude a friendly light, and at a glance, you can tell that he is a gentle gentleman, and his whole body exudes an approachable temperament...

He saw a limping figure in front of him. Because he was walking too fast, his legs and feet that were not very convenient made him stumble, and accidentally knocked over a box of things he was holding.

However, the man didn't complain, he helped his cracked glasses, squatted down and started to pick up the scattered things.

Shawshank stepped forward, crouched down and started to help the man.

Scattered all over the ground were some handmade plastic flowers.

The man looked at the gentleman beside him who offered a helping hand with some rarity—such a person is rare in Xiacheng.

Shawshank put the last batch of plastic flowers into the box nimbly with both hands and lifted it up.

"Thank you, sir!" Said, the man with glasses wanted to take Shawshank's suitcase.

Mr. Rogers just held the box and didn't hand it back.

Then, he didn't ask for help bluntly, but just said with a smile: "Just right, I need some exercise today - where are these two boxes going? I don't mind sharing one box and walking a distance."

The pair of eyes behind the cracked glasses blinked. After seeing the sincerity in those gray eyes, he smiled and accepted the sudden kindness...

After walking for a while, Shawshank learned that the man's name was Henry Hart. He was originally a worker at Donald Brewery. He broke his leg due to work, and now he can only make a living by doing some simple manual work at home.

At night, he is still walking to deliver plastic flowers... It's enough to show the hardships and hardships in his current life.

Henry Hart was quickly attracted by Shawshank's charisma. He could feel that the gentleman in front of him had a deep mind and a broad mind...

When he was invited by Hart to rest at his house, unlike other crappy missionaries, Sean did not take the initiative to mention the belief in Yefeng, but Hart was very interested in Shawshank and saw it. With a black book in his hand, he took the initiative to ask...

"Oh? This thing?" Shawshank looked at the book in his hand with a cherished gaze, "This book is related to a minority belief - are you a religious person? Can you accept talking about it?"

Henry, who has been living in anxiety, wanted to know what the power that kept Shawshank always calm and happy was. He wanted to know everything about it, so he nodded without mind.

So Sean went along with the flow to briefly describe the beliefs about "Ms. Hershey", and quoted some fragments from the "Long Poem" written by him~www.wuxiaspot.com~ She listened to her every late night. The mournful complaint of the poor, and give him a peaceful and sweet sleep to heal the wounds encountered in this world...

"She's not just a listener, she's a goddess of perfection who is determined to protect good people.

"Open your heart to her, and she will definitely protect those who have good intentions in their hearts..."

Hearing Shawshank recite those verses in a low voice, Henry Hart's eyes became a little wet after suffering: "It's a beautiful verse...

"Just listening to you recite, I seem to feel that I have received some comfort..."

The people living in the lower city seem to be forgotten by the mainstream, and they are not under the strict supervision of the indoctrination officials.

Therefore, there is less resistance and fear when contacting these beliefs that have not been approved by the Holy Court.

"If you can..." Henry turned to look at his daughter, who was doing homework in the room, the lights in Jenny Hart's room, as if he had made up his mind, and asked calmly, "Can you tell me about this girl? More stories from the lady?"

"Of course." Accepting the hot tea that Henry poured into the aluminum cup, Shawshank sat safely, with his hand on the black-covered book, "I just have time tonight, so I will talk to you about this perfection. lady..."

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