Chapter 252: Two Demons, Betrayal, and the Destiny of London

England.

London, northern suburbs, Enfield district.

"Hey, Maurice, you look terrible. You should get to a hospital."

"Maurice doesn't have a steady job or insurance. Go to a hospital and get fleeced by those bloodsuckers? Better off going to a clinic and buying some painkillers."

"Yeah, painkillers are great. That old man in the wheelchair next door drinks them every day."

"No thanks. Thanks for the concern, though."

The man in the pale yellow suit managed a forced smile, turned his head, and couldn't help but rub his bloodshot eyes as he walked up the stairs.

This was an old apartment building. Maurice returned to his room and *click*, locked the door.

He *plop* sat back down on the sofa.

He slumped there, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He didn't understand.

Why?

Why wouldn't God protect him?

He had once assisted Sister Irene and Father Anthony in resealing the demon god Valak, who had just broken its seal, and had also helped Irene eliminate the avatar of Valak that had seized the opportunity to possess him.

But why, why hadn't it been eliminated? Why was there still a remnant soul of it inside him?

Every day during this period, he dreamed of that terrifying, hideous nun—killing, abusing corpses, decapitating...

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

"Valak! Come out!"

"What's the point of torturing me! If you've got the guts, go find the Lord! You failure! You damned fallen angel! You deserve to never find the Saint Lucy's Eye, I curse you, I curse you to never regain your power!!"

"Do you hear me, Valak? I fuck your mother!!"

Maurice roared at the sky, his shrill voice piercing through the glass, yet strangely, it drew no attention from anyone.

*Buzz, buzz, buzz*—

At this moment, blood vessels covered his whites like vines, coiling around his pupils.

*Hum!! *

Before his eyes, a hallucination appeared.

He seemed to see the respectable and beautiful Sister Irene again. She was wearing a gentle smile and opening her arms, like the Virgin Mary in legends, standing quietly and waiting for this "child" to return.

"Sister Irene, Miss Irene... I, I have something I want to tell you."

Maurice stumbled toward those arms, eyes brimming with tears, his voice trembling with excitement.

*Slap! *

He embraced her.

But what came through wasn't warmth or softness; instead, it was a chill, a coarseness. Maurice froze completely.

!!!

A large, sharp hand patted his shoulder gently. A stinging pain radiated from his shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Before his eyes, the black nun's habit grew tall.

He looked up blankly.

A gray, dead face was looking down at him too. Their eyes met, and the lips curled, revealing a mouth full of sharp, interlocking, complex fangs.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

Amidst the shrill scream.

*Bang! *

Maurice, who had committed suicide by gunshot, collapsed to the floor, his blood spilling everywhere, the long-barreled gun still clutched tightly in his hand.

Valak watched this scene, wearing a hideous grin. With a flick of its hand, it snatched the still-wailing phantom soul into its grasp.

*Crack, crack, crack! *

At this moment, the room shook.

Amidst swirling black mist, a four-horned demon appeared at its side—it was Malthus.

Just as Louis had guessed, the two demons had truly colluded.

"Malthus, have you found that old ghost?"

Valak spoke, its voice hoarse and low, carrying a strange tone, as if neither male nor female.

Malthus took a half-step back. It was a Great Demon, and the other was a Demon God. Although there was no loyalty among demons, the hierarchy of status in the lower and middle ranks was quite strict.

"I have leads on that old ghost. This isn't a place I've operated in before; it's overseas, so it's been very troublesome to track down, which delayed things."

Malthus's cultists had traveled thousands of miles across the ocean to England, naturally lacking the strength to develop influence here. If it hadn't gone out personally, there wouldn't even be a lead by now.

That was how it explained itself.

However.

*Bang! *

Valak waved its hand.

A powerful force pressed down on Malthus, forcing it to its knees instantly. *Bang! *

Cracks spread across the floor.

Malthus did not resist in the slightest.

"Find it quickly. Without those dark creatures, in our current state, we are no match for those descendants of saints or their holy artifacts."

"Yes."

Malthus replied respectfully, without a hint of rebuttal.

However.

"Who were you talking to just now?"

Valak said suddenly.

!!!

Malthus's heart skipped a beat, and it quickly explained everything that had happened between itself and that human, Louis.

Valak was a demon who mastered true knowledge. It didn't lie itself, and it could see through anyone else's lies. To hide anything in front of it was simply courting death.

After hearing Malthus's account, a fierce light flashed in Valak's eyes.

This demon had its own little schemes.

Demons having schemes was normal; it would be strange if they didn't, especially demons under Berith. Having schemes was even more normal, but this guy was a bit stupid.

"You fool, have you never considered that if he could obtain your contact array, he could just as easily find your cultists?"

Its cultists had all relocated to England. If the other party searched, it would be very easy to find out it was now in England.

"Speed it up. We must find that old ghost as soon as possible, and then go find the descendant of the saint."

"Yes."

Malthus, who was being pressed so hard it felt like it would vomit blood, replied with difficulty.

After Valak vanished, Malthus stood up, its eyes filled with ferocity and hatred.

I'm stupid?

I think you're the stupid one!

Ever since it arrived in England, nothing had gone smoothly—no, ever since it met that human, nothing had gone smoothly. It had thought it finally found an ally, only to find a master.

And Valak, that guy, only had its mind set on finding the saint's descendant named Irene to regain its power. It had no idea about the importance of hiding to regain strength while waiting for the plan to begin. It had no brains at all.

Oh wait, it wasn't that it had no brains; it must have learned a lesson after failing twice, otherwise it would still be an idiot!

*Hiss—hoo—*

Malthus took a deep breath.

Currently, it and Valak were both in a state of remnant souls; their avatars had been destroyed, and their power was greatly diminished. It at least retained the power of a common demon, while it itself was barely holding onto the rank of a demon.

Moreover, their true bodies were in Hell. If they offended the other party, the other party could find trouble with their true bodies in Hell at any time by using the array to transmit information, and its master, the Demon God Berith, might not necessarily stand up for it.

Therefore.

Endure!

Once it found that old ghost and took the opportunity to create an army of vampires to harvest souls and regain strength, it would find a chance to break away from this guy and wait for the orders of the Demon King Mamon to unfold the plan.

By then, with its strength reaching a new level and the horn given by the Demon God Berith in its hand, it wouldn't necessarily have to fear a Valak that had failed twice...

Therefore.

As for Irene, I'm not looking for her!

Although it had already planned how to betray Valak and leave things half-finished, Malthus didn't show it on its face.

It suspected that Valak was monitoring it.

Shortly after.

A trail of water appeared on the ground, and the Weeping Woman flickered into view. Malthus turned into a black mist, merged into her, and the demon vanished.

Just as Maurice died.

England, the seaside city of Brighton, a city very close to London.

A blonde woman in her twenties, dressed in a black nun's habit and looking pure and holy, boarded the train. She was smiling, and when she encountered a curious child nearby, she pulled a candy from her habit and handed it over.

"Thank you, sister."

Irene's smile grew even brighter.

*Clatter. *

The train jolted slightly; trains in this era were like that, inevitably vibrating on the tracks.

But Irene clutched her chest suddenly. A slight stinging pain flashed in her heart, and a sense of foreboding arose.

Ever since the extreme danger brought by Valak years ago, she had awakened her saintly bloodline and had been consciously developing it ever since, gaining many abilities today.

Such as premonition.

Although it hadn't reached the level of apocalypse, it was exceptionally accurate.

This sting must be a sign of something.

Irene clasped her hands together in front of her chest, closed her eyes, and began to pray.

A moment later.

Sadness appeared in her eyes.

She felt it—someone she cared about had died, and she had sensed the aura of a nemesis.

Valak.

It hadn't vanished!

It was in London!

As it happened, the destination of this train was London.

"Indeed, Lord, was your purpose in bringing me to England to thoroughly resolve Valak?"

She whispered to herself.

The blood in her veins bloomed with a faint golden luster.

In her pupils, a golden light flashed and vanished.

Massachusetts.

Several months had passed since the Scavenger Company opened. Its expansion was quite impressive; even the wealthy and powerful in several neighboring states had heard of the Scavenger Company, and the business of some priests' churches had declined, with fewer wealthy people visiting.

Additionally, thanks to the backing and connections of Michael, the company hadn't been targeted by the Bureau, only requiring Louis to take some time to register as a religious entity at the Secretary of State's office.

Because the protective amulets of the Kitchen God that Louis issued were somewhat taboo—although the land of America touted freedom and was indeed quite free at times.

But when it came to faith, things were different.

Internal disputes within Protestantism were one thing; heretics were to be ostracized, especially with Louis's blatant money-making and infringement on their interests. As his influence grew, he would inevitably face targeting sooner or later.

Therefore, he had to at least get the paperwork done officially to avoid giving anyone a handle against him.

But Louis didn't care. Faith was never as important as money, and things like protective amulets were just business, mere commodities. In the end, Louis simply registered a business entity at the Massachusetts Secretary of State's office.

With the expansion of the Scavenger Company.

More and more interest groups were affected. Besides some churches, even those who made a living in the industry—folk mediums, fortune tellers, folklore experts, paranormal detective agencies, etc. —had their livelihoods impacted and lost many jobs.

And the Warrens' New England Paranormal Society was naturally affected as well.

In their warm home, by the fireplace.

Ed looked sorrowfully at the bill in his hand; the expenses were about to exceed the budget again.

Living in America was an expensive affair, especially for those middle-class people who were neither here nor there.

The lower class didn't care; they had given up, and there wasn't much left to squeeze out of them. The upper class had money, didn't care, and had many tax-avoidance schemes.

It was the middle class that bore the brunt of America's massive tax burden—having money but not enough, unwilling to give up, yet finding it too hard to climb higher, stuck right there.

The Warrens were no exception.

Despite their fame, often appearing in newspapers and late-night paranormal shows, and constantly receiving commissions for exorcisms, their expenses were high: taxes on this luxury house, high medical insurance premiums, the expensive school their daughter attended, and all sorts of bills...

Oh, and the tuition loans they hadn't finished paying off either.

So, they were often quite short on money too.

And now, this problem had been magnified.

"Where on earth did this Scavenger Company pop up from?"

"They've snatched so much business. The advertising fees for this month haven't been settled yet. *Hiss*, I hope we don't have to dip into our savings."

A pair of hands massaged Ed's temples. It was Lorraine. She looked at her husband and their daughter playing in the room, hesitated for a moment, and said, "I remember there's a high-paying commission in England, something about helping to deal with something suspected to be a vampire. You—"

Before she could finish, Ed interrupted her directly, "Let's not do that one."

Ever since the commission to resolve the Perron family case (The Conjuring 1), when Lorraine saw the terrifying demon nun and was scared to tears for the first time, she had revealed the visions she saw afterwards.

She saw the scene of Ed being killed and understood it was a warning from the demon nun.

Therefore, Ed had refused all commissions from England during this period.

"Ed, listen to me. I know you're doing this for me, but as long as we don't interfere with that demon nun, we can just finish the commission and come right back. Wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?" Lorraine said.

"I don't want you to touch the savings. That's our fund for traveling the world after retirement; we can't mess with that."

"..."

"Fine, we'll go just this once, resolve it, and come back immediately."

"Mm."

After deciding, the two went back to their room to rest, taking the opportunity to warn their daughter, who was always trying to run downstairs.

Beneath their luxurious house was a large, locked room filled with neat rows of display cabinets, where all sorts of strange items sat quietly.

These were the paranormal items they had resolved over the years during their commissions, sealed away here.

This was the storage room for their New England Paranormal Society.

And so.

The Warrens would soon embark on a journey to England.

And the saintly descendant Irene, as well as the Left Path practitioner Louis, were also about to head there without prior arrangement.

Destiny converged in London.

(End of chapter)