I planted a sacred tree in Tokyo.

Chapter 213 The Budding of Turmoil

"The deceased was named Father George."

On the top floor of a skyscraper, the three leaders of the Church of Cthulhu gathered together.

In a room riddled with damage, on an expensive carpet, lay a man dressed as a priest, his face still bearing anger and ferocity, but a huge hole in his chest revealed him to be a cold corpse.

"He is a devout believer who has already consumed 'Grace Potion Type IV,' and his strength is among the top 'priests.' How could this be?"

At this point, old Edgar couldn't help but sigh.

This priest was an old acquaintance of his, and given his considerable abilities, he was originally expected to be promoted to 'bishop' and become his right-hand man.

How could he be killed on his own turf?

It's simply:
"A provocation against the church!"

"Find the murderer, and then—"

Old Edgar vowed to make the other person regret ever being born!

"He has already fought,"

Colonel Anderson made this judgment after inspecting the entire room for signs of battle.

“There are traces of flexible limbs, scaly skin, scolding techniques, and even ‘malicious shapeshifting’.”

Picking up a tentacle from the ground, Colonel Anderson noticed the unfamiliar spiritual energy still lingering within it, realizing it was a piece of flesh left behind by the enemy.

"But he still lost,"

Dr. Ramley, who was operating the computer next to him, looked disgusted.

"And the reason for his murder is not hard to guess: Holy Father, you abducted a young girl."

"Old Edgar, can't you bastards spend your time on more meaningful things?"

"Hey, this has nothing to do with me!"

Old Edgar retorted with dissatisfaction, saying that he had been lying in bed waiting to die for the past few years; after being cured by the 'Hidden Lady', he actively devoted himself to the 'Revitalizing the Church', so how could he have time to mate with these 'lower creatures'?
Even if we were to search, they would at least have to be 'extraordinary beings' as well.

"They're just female offspring of some lower creatures, what's the big deal?"

"you"

Professor Ramley was speechless for a moment when faced with this colleague whose thinking was becoming increasingly 'inhuman'.

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Anderson clapped his hands after inspecting the scene.

"I understand the situation: there is only one enemy."

"It wasn't a sneak attack, but a frontal kill: judging from the traces left behind, the other party seemed to have tried to torture the priest, but after being hit by the 'malicious polymorphism,' they avoided the priest's final resistance by sacrificing his limbs and took his heart."

As a former battlefield veteran and now an extraordinary being, Colonel Anderson quickly pieced together almost everything that had happened here.

Now all that remains is to use his extraordinary abilities to prove his judgment:
"Edgar, come here."

Why not yourself?

"Should I save my 'gift' for a crisis, or wait for the Doctor's daughter to arrive?"

Under the watchful eyes of Colonel Anderson and Dr. Lamley, old Edgar reluctantly walked to the priest's body, knelt down on one knee, and clasped his hands in prayer.

"A mysterious woman, deeper than the deep sea, more distant than dreams,"

"You are the embodiment of water, the projection of dreams, the princess of R'lyeh—"

"My humble servant begs your gaze, and grants me the ability to 'seek the truth'."

As he prayed, a strange 'knowledge' flowed into his mind—the methods and techniques for exercising the ability called 'memory reading'.

Gollum~~
With his right hand outstretched, the index finger of the wealthy man named Old Edgar wriggled and transformed into an octopus tentacle.

The tip of the tentacle pierced the head of the priest's corpse on the ground and began to read its memories.

Reading the memories of a corpse

This is not a secret technique of the 'Mountain Clan': In the Naruto world, there are rules in the war between the five great nations that if you cannot take away the body of your comrade, you must destroy his head.

Because reading residual memories from a corpse's brain is a ninjutsu possessed by all five great nations.

Of course, how much memory can be retrieved depends on the skill of the caster:

"The killer was a man in black,"

"His abilities are similar to Venom, the villain in Spider-Man 3."

"He can transform his arm into a whip, a pair of pincers. After being subjected to the priest's malicious transformation surgery, through methods such as severing his arm, his arm regenerated?"

With his eyes closed, Old Edgar carefully sensed the fragments of memory in his mind and kept recounting information about the previous battle.

"This guy is very cautious and hasn't revealed any information about himself."

"But judging from his threats against the priest,"

"He harbors deep hostility towards the church!"

As old Edgar opened his eyes, he pulled a tentacle from the corpse's forehead.

Wave,

A stream of white brain matter flowed out.

Despite the scene, all three people present remained expressionless.

"As I expected,"

Colonel Anderson nodded.
"The enemy possesses abilities such as shapeshifting and regeneration."

"This ability isn't difficult to deal with: fire, ice, strong acid. What I'm more concerned about is: he took the priest's heart."

Is it intended for some kind of 'ritual', or as an ingredient in a 'potion', or perhaps to cast some kind of 'curse'? As a church under Cthulhu's command, their 'supernatural abilities' are mostly secretive and mysterious.

Judging from one's own experience, there must be more to the story behind this unknown enemy's act of taking the heart.

"Who cares!"

Old Edgar waved his hand,

"Send out the 'hunting dog squad' to bring the murderer back!"

Father George was considered one of his 'people,' so of course he wouldn't just let it go like that.

"Can,"

Colonel Anderson agreed.
Although the three of them respectively represented the church's 'power,' 'research,' and 'force,' and often clashed with each other, they had no disagreement on upholding the church's 'authority.'

after all--

Their lives

The fate of their families,

Everything is in the hands of the 'Hidden Lady'.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Brooklyn
In the alleyway at the corner of the sixth block

There is an old building with a sign that says "Temporarily Closed" that is called Broken Axe Bar.

Ding bell~
The bar door opened as the bell on the door jingled softly.

"Sorry, we are temporarily closed today."

The muscular, bald bartender with a mustache didn't even look up as he wiped the glasses and told people to leave.

"Give me a glass of '82 whisky, drink it and leave."

"We only have brandy here."

"Seriously—don't you guys get bored of having to use these silly code words every time?"

The red-haired woman who entered couldn't help but complain. She was wearing a dark red nun's habit that accentuated her curvaceous figure.

The red hood was pulled up, but it wasn't a passionate red; rather, it was the red of blood. This was paired with the red braids hanging down her chest and the metal belt ornament at her waist, along with her delicate makeup, melancholic temperament, and Roman-style strappy sandals.
He seemed to be a street artist or a cosplay enthusiast.

But the bald bartender knew very well that this was none other than the infamous 'Priest,' a superhuman mercenary in the New York underworld.

Because the changes were so drastic, no one could reconcile her with the naive English girl who once naively sought supernatural powers. "That's the rule, Priestess."

The bartender gestured towards the kitchen.
"Cold storage room number 3, please."

As the slender woman walked into the kitchen, the bartender shouted again.

"Your wine,"

"Put it in the account."

Honestly, what era are we living in? Still playing these little tricks like 'code words'?

Fiona, the girl codenamed "Priestess," couldn't help but grumble about the owner of this place. Having spent so much time in the "Nightmare Space," she had gradually become "cunning" herself. Despite being a superhuman who started out in close combat, she dressed up as a "magician" just to lull her enemies into a false sense of security.

Although in reality, there aren't many opponents she needs to lull into complacency.

Walk through the empty kitchen and into cold storage room number 3.

The cold storage door closed with a slight thud.

A dozen seconds later, the door reopened, and a cacophony of noise and excitement rushed in.

Outside was a typical American bar. In the dim, shifting light, around the round tables sat muscular men and women in tank tops, their bare arms covered in large tattoos. They talked loudly, ate and drank, their appearance rugged, but upon closer inspection…
The drinks on the table were all expensive brands!

The blonde bunny girls carrying trays to and fro were all quite beautiful, and their figures were naturally the kind of large, curvaceous men that mercenaries liked.

It's safe to say that the cost of living here would leave the average 'middle class' speechless.

that is because--

"Wow, this is the famous 'Priest'?"

Upon seeing Fiora enter the bar, a young white man whistled and turned around.

"I heard you're good at divination?"

"Could you do a fortune telling for me? Do I have a date tonight?"

After saying that, the white youth stuck out his tongue, which was vibrating rapidly, making a highly provocative gesture.

"Kaplan, shut up."

A calm voice rang out, stopping the young white man's womanizing, or rather, his reckless behavior.

In America, people like to use the "exhaustive approach" when picking up girls in bars: they go up to each one directly and strike up a conversation, and if that doesn't work, they move on to the next one.

Theoretically, this method shouldn't have any chance of success; however, women are emotional creatures, and sometimes they might suddenly have a brain fart, so they often succeed, leading to this trend lasting for over a hundred years and becoming a kind of 'culture'.

The one who spoke up to stop the white youth was a middle-aged black mercenary.

Unlike typical hip-hop Black men, he sat upright even in this bustling bar, looking like the serious and old-fashioned type.

"Priestess, I apologize to you on behalf of my teammates."

"No, it was just a joke."

The red-robed Fiora's gaze fell on the black mercenary's shoulder.
On his shoulder was a high-tech instrument, which looked like a detector or a launch pad; however, these were just appearances.

Fiora sensed a familiar presence, as if there was something similar to her on the other person's shoulder.

strangeness.
"Hey, Captain, this isn't Mount Koya."

After the other person left, the white youth Kaplan turned around and shrugged.

"This is safe America, just looking for a girl to relax with."

"Shut up, Kaplan."

Franky, whose legs were metal prosthetics, raised his chin.

"You're just a guy who only knows how to masturbate, aren't you afraid someone will beat you to a pulp?"

"That 'priest' has such a great reputation, he must be a superhuman, and most likely possess some kind of superhuman ability."

"Just an extraordinary being,"

Kaplan scoffed dismissively.
"Have we seen enough island nations already?"

"I've seen quite a few extraordinary beings at the C-level, or even B-level. This 'priest' is at most an E-level."

"You're wrong, Kaplan."

Matthew, the black mercenary captain, interrupted the white youth.
"She is a C-rank, and although she has only just entered the C-rank, killing us would be no difficult task for her."

After all, since the other party uses 'priest' as a code name, they must possess all sorts of strange 'superpowers': and many of these superpowers can easily kill an unsuspecting person!

？！！

"Grade C."

"No way, America has this level of extraordinary beings?"

The mercenaries, sitting in a circle, all had solemn expressions. Having fought on the battlefield of Mount Koya for so long, and having witnessed many battles between extraordinary powerhouses through various channels, they had a clear understanding of how strong a C-rank was—equivalent to the "Tiger Rank" in Japan.

A superhuman of this level could easily slaughter an entire army!
This is America, this is New York.
“I can’t ‘see’ wrong,”

The 'high-tech artifact' on the black mercenary captain's shoulder was actually a decoy to cover his third eye.

This eyeball can not only easily observe things from 10,000 meters away, but also discern the strength of the other party's 'spiritual power'.

That girl just now, her spiritual power has already entered the C-level range.

"But what about the outside world?"

"There are many things that the outside world doesn't know."

After stopping Kaplan, the black captain Matthew gave his team members a serious reprimand.

"I'll avoid you from now on; I don't want to attend your funerals."

"Yes!"

The mercenaries responded in unison.
This caused several people sitting nearby to turn their heads involuntarily.

However, upon seeing that it was the famous 'Hive Mercenary Team', they all turned their heads away.

This bar caters to people from all walks of life who are connected to the supernatural; many of the team leaders and vice-leaders are supernatural beings, and most of them are people who have retired from the battlefield of Mount Koya in Japan: they have made a lot of money and naturally want to come to the bustling city of New York to rest and enjoy themselves.

Moreover, there are also some easy but well-paid 'tasks' available here.

Compared to fighting demons, facing chimeras that appear out of nowhere, extraordinary 'knights,' extraordinary 'mages,' or even the most disgusting extraordinary 'assassins,' could be used to assassinate a few wealthy humans or serve as bodyguards for a period of time.
It was as relaxing as a vacation.

Well, to put it simply, it's a real-life version of a 'mercenary guild'!
This organization, which originally only existed in fantasy novels, has mysteriously appeared in modern cities due to the expansion of its supernatural powers.

"Long time no see, priest."

The owner here is also an extraordinary individual.

In a private room behind the bar, a blond, fair-skinned young man wearing brown sunglasses leaned back on the sofa, raising his glass to Fiora, who had just entered, his ring gleaming.

"It's only been two 'missions' since we last met."

The door to the room was sealed off from all sound; the girl sat on the sofa opposite the young man and asked a question.

"What do you want from me?"

"gambler."

"Gambler" is the code name for the owner of this bar, the person in front of you.

The blond youth, dressed in flashy clothes and decked out in designer brands, smiled slightly at the girl who was speaking with displeasure.

“My employer feels that someone is against him, so he wants to hire you.”

"Ah,"

Upon hearing this, Fiora smiled.

"Sorry, I have no interest in running errands for the wealthy, and besides—"

What kind of wealthy person can afford her commission?
"Wait, let me first find out who my employer is."

At the girl's gesture of 'continue,' the blond youth put down his glass.