"Boris?"

York was a little surprised at this time and looked at Jeffrey carefully.

Boris can be regarded as the secret contact person of the official organization in contacting the church.

In some special matters or supernatural events, he has the right to ask Boris to provide backup help or convenience, and he also has the responsibility to help resolve supernatural events when Boris asks for help.

Now the person connected was actually Jeffrey.

But Yorks thought about it again and felt that it made sense. After all, the Jeffrey in front of him had some connection with him, at least he was the person he saved personally.

"Yes."

A smile appeared on Jeffrey's face, and he looked at the priest he respected in front of him and smiled.

"Father York, if you need help with anything in the future, you can tell me and I will definitely complete it seriously."

Yorks raised his eyebrows slightly. He could sense Jeffrey's seriousness and understand what the other party meant. He made the sign of the cross out of habit and said seriously.

"I will, Officer Jeffrey."

"Yeah." Jeffrey took a deep breath and tilted his head to look at the blood and corpses at the door behind.

"So do you need our help here?"

Seeing Jeffrey like this, Yorks couldn't help but think of Mr. Woodrow and the others before, and smiled slightly.

"No, I've already called the cleaning company. They should be here later."

"Ah..." Jeffrey raised his head. He was usually in charge of homicide cases and knew more than ordinary people.

"I see."

"Um."

York's smile did not change and he began to see off the guests.

"Officer Jeffrey, thank you for coming."

There are three police cars here, so those shady scavengers may not dare to come over.

Jeffrey understood instantly and nodded slightly.

"Good night, Father York, we are closing the team."

Yorks crossed himself.

"Good night, Officer Jeffrey, I wish you a good dream and the Lord is with you."

"Thanks."

Jeffrey took one last look at the door, nodded, turned around and strode away.

Under York's gaze, he waved his hand, led all his men back into the police car, and left the place after a while.

Seeing this, Yorks looked to the right. Just at this moment, two vehicles similar to cleaning trucks appeared quietly and slowly stopped in front of him.

The first person to get off the bus was a thin old man who was wearing a fisherman's hat at night. He came to Yorks, took off his hat and revealed a head of short, white hair, and said respectfully.

"Father York, it's nice to see you again."

Yorks looked past the old man and looked behind him. A group of burly men holding various cleaning tools seemed a bit unusual, but very attractive.

"Yeah, me too, Charlie."

With that said, Yorks stepped aside and motioned to the dirty door.

"Can you guys clean it up a little better?"

The old man named Charlie smiled implicitly, "No problem, Father York."

After saying that, the old man held the fisherman's hat with his right hand and waved it lightly.

A total of ten burly men behind him immediately set out with various cleaning tools and slowly walked into the church.

Two people dealt with the blood, organs, and corpses at the door.

The remaining eight people walked in.

Looking at the large opening and closing, but very quick cleaning movements, Yorks looked at the old man waiting next to him.

"Charlie, how much is it?"

Hearing this, the old man Charlie hesitated for a moment. The scavengers who served the killers usually collected coins circulating in the killer world.

If we really want to exchange things on an equal basis, one thing is one coin, a corpse is one coin, a request is one coin, and even a glass of wine is one coin.

"this……"

The old man subconsciously glanced at the priest next to him. He knew that the priest must not have any coins. He tentatively named a price based on the currency-to-money exchange ratio.

"one million?"

"kindness?"

York was stunned. His current net worth was only over two million. It cost one million to clean so many corpses and some ketchup. Was he treating him as a big scapegoat?

Looking at old man Charlie next to him, Yorks frowned slightly, and a huge aura naturally rose under his emotional fluctuations.

"Are you sure it's one million?"

"Yes, Father Yorks..."

Old man Charlie just wanted to explain the situation on their side, but the feeling that followed made his pupils shrink. At this moment, he only felt that the priest next to him had changed in some way.

The tall figure that was slowly growing in size like Mount Tai seemed to be pressing towards him.

For just a moment, the old man Charlie felt that he could no longer breathe. While his heart was beating wildly, his brain was so swollen that it was about to explode.

The mountain-like heavy pressure instantly plunged him into a magical high-pressure zone.

"Charlie?"

The old man's change was somewhat obvious, and Yorks noticed it immediately, and quickly put away the mental energy he had quietly released, with a helpless look in his eyes.

Because in his previous life, he was always a little persistent when it came to money.

"call……"

The pressure disappeared instantly. The old man Charlie suddenly seemed like a dream. He took a big breath and fell to the ground. He looked up and looked at the priest who was becoming more and more unfamiliar, as if he had met him for the first time. There was only palpitations and fear in his heart. He just felt that this was A very terrifying existence.

"Sorry, Charlie, my bad."

Yorks felt a little apologetic, stretched out his hand and forcibly grabbed the old man Charlie's hand that was avoiding it, and pulled him up.

"The main reason is that I don't have much money right now. Can you make it a little cheaper? Give me a discount of 500,000 yuan?"

After enduring such a wave, the old man Charlie could not refuse, and he did not even dare to talk about their rules and regulations.

"Okay, okay, okay, Father."

Looking at the old man Charlie, who was becoming more humble and quietly taking a few steps away, Yorks twitched the corner of his mouth, and he could understand the other person's feelings.

The average mental power of ordinary people is only ten points, but his mental power is already eight times the norm. To explain it in the simplest sentence, it is probably that he has a domineering aura.

Fortunately, he can control his mental power and selectively control the output, otherwise he wouldn't be able to go anywhere.

Thinking of this, Yorks looked at the old man Charlie who seemed to be frightened, and said helplessly.

"Charlie, sorry, can you give me an account number? I will transfer the money tomorrow."

Old man Charlie carefully took out a pen and paper from the pockets on both sides of his coat, wrote an account number, and handed it over, his tone more respectful than before.

"Father York, this is our account number, you can transfer it any day."

"Um."

Yorks took it over without bothering to explain what had just happened to the old man Charlie. The world of ordinary people, even those in special industries, was indeed too far away from him.

"Okay, Charlie."

Charlie nodded obediently and saluted with his hat on his chest.

Yorks didn't pay attention and allowed the old man Charlie to quietly take a few steps away and look at the door.

I don't know when the two cleaners responsible for cleaning the door disappeared.

Yorks raised his eyebrows slightly. In his eyes, the door had returned to its original state. Even the blood stains on the door, the debris on the side and other things that were difficult to clean had disappeared without a trace. Overall, it was no different from usual.

Before York could figure out how to clean it up, the two cleaners who had just disappeared and the eight cleaners who were cleaning up inside came out one after another holding a corpse wrapped in membranes.

Watching these calm-looking cleaners neatly move corpses one after another into the cleaning truck, Yorks couldn't help but think of the introduction to them by Yohan, the god of death.

"major……"

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