Chapter 525: Let the Ground Stir with Arms

The document obtained from De Laike's hands was slowly passed among the Grand Archbishops and Bishops.

The rustle of pages sounded unusually clear in the spacious Church.

Names, dates, amounts, transfer records, cooperation methods.

Secret accounts of wealthy elites, a few city councilors, and even one or two familiar names—the faces they see every Sunday at Mass.

As the documents were passed, the Computer in the corner had already connected to the Black Hard Disk.

A young deacon operated the projector, projecting the data from the hard disk page by page onto the white wall beside the Church.

Charts, accounts, email screenshots, call logs, and even a few blurry videos—a familiar figure shaking hands with gang members behind a nightclub's back door; a wealthy businessman who often attends services, personally handing a suitcase full of cash to De Laike's subordinate on camera.

The more they watched, the uglier the expressions on their faces became.

Someone began to sweat, another's lips turned pale, and someone else instinctively clenched the cross at their chest.

They dared not look at each other, let alone at the figure seated at the front, back turned to the cross.

They guessed Yu Lin's purpose for this visit.

But Yu Lin remained silent, and they did not dare to speak.

The whole Church was left with only the rustle of pages, the low hum of the projector's fan, and their own increasingly heavy heartbeats.

Time passed second by second.

Upon the massive cross, the suffering Jesus hung his head, silently watching it all.

When—

When—

When—

The midnight bell finally rang.

The long toll reverberated inside the Church, shaking the stained‑glass windows slightly.

The twelve chimes fell, and the final echo faded into the depths of the dome.

Announcing that today became yesterday, and tomorrow became today.

Yu Lin spoke.

"I know you did not take part in these evils."

His voice was calm, neither high nor low, yet it pierced clearly into each person's ears.

"Because you possess Holy Power."

The brief sentence, like a massive stone dropped into water, stirred huge ripples in every heart.

Someone exhaled deeply, and the tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Even someone quietly drew a cross on their chest and whispered a thank‑you to the Lord.

But Yu Lin's next words made the still‑catching breath instantly catch in the throat again.

"But not taking part," he said:

"It does not mean you think you're fine."

He slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

Where his eyes fell, some subconsciously lowered their heads, some forced their backs straight to appear composed, and some truly faced Yu Lin unflinchingly.

Yu Lin's gaze did not linger on those standing upright without fear, but brushed past the faces that seemed calm yet were filled with panic.

"Some things don't need you to do them yourself."

"Not even to speak."

"Naturally, a 'smart person' will do it for you."

"You only need to sit, wait, and then it will happen."

He paused.

"You who did not personally commit evil, how can you be called a villain?"

"And because you still harbor goodwill, often doing good deeds, you can even receive the blessing of Holy Power."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing an ambiguous smile.

"Profiting on both ends, that feels great, doesn't it?"

The words sounded somewhat contradictory—what does 'profiting on both ends' mean?

Doing good out of goodwill and committing evil—how could that not be a conflict?

But everyone present understood.

Take Yu Lin as an example: he could seize a handful from the rich, then, full of great love, donate the entire sum.

To the rich, he is a villain; to those he helped, he is a saint.

And also helping an elderly lady cross the street, then snatching a passing child's toy…

Among the Bishops present, some were like that.

They knew very well—though they didn't do those deeds themselves, how those 'collaborations' arose.

Why did those wealthy merchants willingly fund the Church's repairs? Why didn't the gangs come onto their turf?

Not through force.

Using a bit of Holy Power depletes it; replenishing Holy Power requires doing good deeds, so unless necessary, they are reluctant to expend Holy Power.

Moreover, the rich are no fools; they have various countermeasures, hiring experts or training younger family members… force isn't worth it.

Some matters need not be exposed, only a glance, tacit consent, a 'coincidental' absence.

They knew who Yu Lin was pointing at.

Someone began to tremble.

Their minds raced, pondering how to defend themselves, how to exonerate, how to cleanly wipe those deeds before him.

But Yu Lin did not give them a chance to defend themselves.

He spoke again.

Like this, I give you an opportunity.

He paused.

Seeing that you usually do quite a few good deeds.

A glimmer of hope flashed in someone's eyes.

Leniency for confession, severity for resistance.

He raised his hand, pointing at Weimu Xun.

Those who feel they have done wrong, go register with Weimu Xun.

His gaze swept over the crowd; that gaze was calm yet extremely penetrating, as if it could see through everyone's soul.

After that, Public Trial.

Weimu Xun, hearing this, felt a hint of doubt arise in his heart.

Public Trial? In the Holy See?

But Yu Lin's next sentence made him realize he was mistaken.

Note, I mean public, not the Holy See.

He raised his hand and pointed upward.

Above that day's flower panel is the dome; above the dome is the night sky; above the night sky——

Weimu Xun's pupils contracted sharply.

Others also almost simultaneously raised their heads, looking in that direction, as if they could see something higher through the church's stone dome.

They of course knew what place he was referring to.

That place needs no name.

The crowd stared at each other, thoughts racing in their hearts; just then, someone softly recited a line:

Don't think that I came to bring peace on earth; I did not come to bring peace on earth, but to bring the sword to earth.

That was the scripture they had read since childhood, but now it struck like a thunderclap in each person's heart.

The church was utterly silent.

The candlelight flickered.

Yu Lin did not turn back, nor did he speak again.

He simply sat there quietly, waiting for someone to approach Weimu Xun.

Or, waiting for that 'Blade and Troops' to fall.