Chapter Forty-Five: Worthy of the Name

He’s finally learned to boast with confidence—it seems he really has become much more self-assured.

“With you coming along, I feel at ease. If I had to go alone, there would likely be only one way to resolve things.”

“That is precisely the purpose of the Holy Light’s existence!”

Alvin understood what Mulan meant. If she went on her own, she’d likely have no choice but to kill the possessed one. But with him there, perhaps there was still hope to save the victim.

Having promised Mulan, Alvin informed another priest in the sanctuary, then left together with Mulan and Hendel.

Half an hour later, the carriage stopped at their destination. The driver stepped down and opened the door for them.

“Honored priest, gentlemen, we’ve arrived. That street is too narrow for the carriage to enter.”

During the ride, Mulan had recounted everything she knew to Alvin. Now, as they stepped out, they found themselves facing a somber, sloping street.

Every few meters, a step led downwards, while on each side, the ground sloped toward rows of old, tightly packed buildings. Between the narrow spaces of these buildings hung ropes strung with clothes and bedding, nearly blocking out what little daylight remained. Occasionally, water would drip down, echoing quietly.

Mulan turned to pay the driver, but Hendel had already handed over the fare. She nodded slightly in acknowledgment, deciding that if her salary at the police station improved, she would repay Hendel for his generosity.

“Evil easily takes root here,” Alvin observed after a long look.

“People here are merely struggling to survive. May God look upon them with mercy. Let’s go.”

Behind them, the carriage rolled away. Mulan spoke, leading the other two into the street.

Though called Terrace Street, it resembled a slightly wider alley, and not only was it deep, but so were all the intersecting lanes. Each lane marked the entrance to the stairways of many households, and every building housed several families.

“Hendel, are there many districts like this in Digo?”

Hendel, carefully watching for dripping water from above, replied, “I seldom come to places like this, but I imagine there are quite a few such neighborhoods throughout Digo.”

Few pedestrians could be seen. Occasionally, children played, but when they spotted Mulan and her companions, they instinctively scattered.

“This is the way.”

Mulan checked the signs outside the alleys, finally spotting the one she sought: Buildings 72 to 88.

The three entered the alley, sending the children inside running off as well. After twenty steps or so, they found Building 82.

With a gentle smile, Alvin pulled a few candies from his pocket, hoping to offer them to the children, but none dared come near. Mulan and Hendel were already heading inside, so he followed.

Outside a third-floor apartment, chains were wrapped between the ring-shaped doorknob and an iron bar embedded in the doorframe, secured by a lock.

“This is the place.”

Mulan could already feel the intense chill emanating from within. Alvin grew serious as well, and even Hendel shivered, tightening his collar as he peered in through a wide crack. It was dim inside, all the windows evidently boarded up.

“Master Jonester, it seems the residents are out, but the patient must be locked inside. Should we wait?”

“We can’t wait any longer for those inside.”

The situation was far more severe than the officers had described. Through the crack, Mulan could see a room where “black smoke” was beginning to seep through the wall.

“Stand back.”

Alvin and Hendel promptly retreated two steps. With a sharp metallic ring, Mulan drew the sword hidden in her cane and, focusing her will, struck the chain.

A crisp clang rang out—the thick chain broke apart.

She can cut through that?

Hendel’s eyes widened; even Alvin was startled. Mulan, however, began unwinding the chain. After a few clinks, she pushed the door open.

“Uh, Mulan, are we really just barging into someone’s home?”

“I’m a police officer now!”

“Fair enough...”

Inside, it was dim—less than ten square meters for both kitchen and living room, the lone window sealed with boards. Two separate rooms branched off, one of which was locked and held their target.

All three gathered outside the door.

“When I open it, secure him first.”

With that, Mulan kicked the door open.

A beastly roar erupted as a figure leapt from the bed, eyes bloodshot and fingernails stained with blood. But before he could cross the air, Mulan had seized his throat, slamming him back down.

“Alvin!”

Alvin opened the Book of the Sanctuary, gently tossing it onto the patient.

With a muted thud, the bedposts shuddered, dust rising as the man was pinned as though the book weighed more than solid iron.

“Aaah—aaah—” the patient howled, wind stirring as dust swirled chaotically around the room.

Alvin crossed his hands before him, stepping in as Mulan shifted aside.

“He’s yours.”

Alvin nodded, reciting sacred prayers without pause.

A grotesque grinding came from the man’s limbs as bones and muscles twisted. Alvin quickly climbed onto the bed, pinning the man’s feet with his own and gripping his hands, staring into those red eyes.

“I am a servant of God, bathed in the Holy Light. While I stand here, the Holy Light shines in this place. Evil cannot hide in my presence...”

Alvin’s gaze was fierce—not at the patient, but at the evil spirit.

A sizzling sound, and smoke rose where the man’s body touched the Book of the Sanctuary, as if the book was a branding iron.

Mulan stood ready, sword shifted to his left hand, right hand poised to draw his gun. The black mist filling the room set him on edge. He had seen ancient monsters, but that didn’t mean he took evil spirits lightly.

Hendel stood near the door, trembling uncontrollably. He could see the man’s unnatural state, but he didn’t understand why he felt so cold, so terrified. Watching the priest on the bed and Mulan standing motionless, he gritted his teeth and refused to retreat.

“Hendel, go wait by the door. If the patient’s family returns, keep them calm—don’t let them rush in.”

“Yes, sir!”

Relieved, Hendel quickly exited the room, stopping only when he reached the apartment door, sweat pouring down his brow and back.

Alvin’s sacred prayer neared its end. The patient’s struggling grew ever more violent.

Alvin grew anxious—if the ritual failed to drive out the spirit, the man would be in grave danger.

“In the name of God, by the power of the Holy Light—I command you, evil one, begone to the Otherworld!”

A feral howl burst from the patient. Alvin could barely restrain his arms; the man’s roar sent his hair flying, and on the man’s forehead, a strange face began to emerge, mocking and jeering.

Alvin’s eyes widened. He leaned down and headbutted the man.

With a resounding thud, the world went silent.

Mulan, gripping his sword, was stunned by the sudden calm. He stared, wide-eyed, at Alvin, who was rubbing his forehead as he rose.

“If I call you ‘hard head’ from now on, you can’t protest, can you?”

Alvin shot Mulan a resigned look, closed the Book of the Sanctuary, and retrieved it from the patient.

“It was close. I didn’t have a third hand to hold his head, and my mouth was busy reciting the prayer. So I just used my head. Didn’t expect it to actually work.”

“Hahaha, well done!”

Outside, Hendel had been restraining a woman, and now both entered upon hearing the laughter.

“Kerry! Are you alright? Who are you people, what have you done to my son?”

The woman rushed to the bed but dared not approach too closely. Though she questioned Mulan and the others, she kept her voice down, afraid to offend people who so obviously outranked her family.

“Madam, we are police officers. Your child is safe now.”

Alvin bowed, soothing her with the calm authority of a priest.

“We have expelled the evil. Now, he just needs sunlight and nourishing food to regain his strength.”

“Really? Truly?”

The woman was overwhelmed with emotion. Alvin reassured her again and again until she calmed down, and once she saw her son was only sleeping, she thanked them profusely.

After some time, Mulan and the others finally took their leave. Before departing, Mulan glanced back at the room. On the headboard, a large patch of wood had been scratched away by fingernails. At first, he’d thought it was random, but as he left, he realized—it was the shape of a large, staring eye.