I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 114 A Fatal Dilemma (7K Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets and Subscriptions)

Time is almost up.

Catherine and Debbie will travel to Princeton in the church's vehicle.

Catherine and Debbie will have some religious matters to attend to, and Richard won't get involved.

He chose to drive himself, setting off an hour early to find Christina.

When Richard arrived at the cell laboratory, Christina had already changed into a black outfit, preparing to attend the memorial service.

However, the time had not yet come, and she continued to work.

That's probably why she was able to succeed.

Every time Richard saw her, she was never idle.

Christina stepped forward and said, "Master, are you here for the memorial service today too?"

"Get a petri dish."

"Okay." Christina didn't ask any questions and immediately brought over a clean petri dish.

Richard's finger hovered lightly above the petri dish, and some fat cells materialized out of thin air, silently forming a pale yellow membrane on the bottom of the dish.

"What is this?" Christina asked curiously.

"Fat cells. Analyze them and see how these fat cells differ from those of ordinary people."

"They're fat cells!" Christina's eyes lit up.

To create things out of nothing, to shape living matter!

It's obvious that this is very powerful magic; the master's strength is truly unfathomable.

Her fingertips trembled slightly as she took the petri dish: "Okay."

She immediately took the fat cells to the laboratory and had the cattle and horses analyze them.

Yes, cattle and horses don't get a rest.

Most people have to go back to work after Christmas.

Richard hadn't seen Edgar in a long time.

Tsk tsk, how pitiful.

Putting a lively, energetic guy in a dark, underground laboratory, specifically 724, is like putting him in prison. Richard felt sorry for Edgar just thinking about it.

However, there's no other way; if you want tenure, you have to pay this price.

Everyone goes through this.

Richard said, "We don't need to investigate too deeply. Let's see if there's anything unusual. If we find anything significant, then we can continue the investigation."

Otherwise, you should continue with your previous research.

The fat cells directly reconstructed from fresh flesh and blood should be different from ordinary cells, but Richard is not sure if Christian can detect it.

Richard was also unsure whether it was simpler to study directly remodeled fat cells or to study cells revived by blood golems.

In short, let Christian try them all first.

If you have no clue, just continue down the same path.

Christina asked, "Were both types of cells created using the same divine power?"

"Yes," Richard nodded, "that's right."

Richard simply offered Christina some extra inspiration; he didn't ask for much or expect much in return.

Based on the research conducted over this period, this will be a long process.

Christina then reported to Richard on the progress of their research over the past period. Since it was almost time, the two packed up briefly and headed to Princeton University.

When the two arrived, most of the professors were already there, gathered together, and whispering among themselves.

The university assigned each professor a special area for faculty and students, where the professors sat in twos and threes waiting, each with a solemn expression.

Even if the people who died in the shooting were unrelated to me, it was still a tragedy that happened in Princeton.

A heavy silence hung in the air, and the conversations of the crowd were unconsciously kept low, as if they were talking in a library.

Everyone felt a sense of shared sorrow, like the fox mourning the death of its kin.

Richard was also watching from the sidelines.

The chapel where the shooting occurred has been restored very quickly.

The site was carefully decorated, with pure white flowers adorning the columns, without any additional ornate decorations.

The Virgin Mary wore a deep purple ceremonial shawl draped over her shoulders, exuding a solemn and heavy atmosphere.

In the very center are framed photos of the thirty-nine victims. Several survivors succumbed to their injuries in the hospital, bringing the final death toll to thirty-nine.

A perpetual prayer candle burned in front of the picture frame, its flame flickering slightly in the draft.

The national flag and school flag were already at half-mast, hanging on both sides of the church.

Thirty-nine bouquets of magnolia and white peony, corresponding to the thirty-nine deceased, are quietly laid out in front of the photograph.

The entire scene was set up in a very solemn manner.

Reporters have been isolated in the surrounding press area and cannot get close.

"Security must be strengthened," Calderson said in a deep voice.

Several school leaders nodded in agreement.

This incident was egregious, and some people have already paid the price for it.

If this happens again, at least half of the people on site will lose their jobs.

In a typical school shooting, killing someone is no big deal.

But Princeton is different; the powerful and influential there are not to be trifled with.

One shooting is an accident, but another is suicidal.

Alaric nodded when he saw Christina.

"How is it?" Christina asked softly.

Alaric spoke of his research with undisguised confidence: "I think we should see some results within one to two years. I've already secured 1.8 million in seed funding."

"Excellent! Fast delivery and a good amount!"

"I can't compare to you."

"This is a good start. My first independent funding wasn't that much either, it was around 1.2 million."

Alaric laughed, finally gaining some advantage over Christina: "Looks like I'm one step ahead."

Christina smiled gently as well.

What she didn't say was that she received the funding as soon as she graduated with her doctorate and never went into anyone else's lab, except for a few years in her supervisor's lab during her doctoral studies.

She maintained a slight smile and didn't say anything more.

Richard sat for a while, then got up and went to the religious section, where he didn't have much to talk about with a group of old professors.

His seat had already been arranged; he could sit next to Catherine as Debbie's family member, closer to her.

This was something Debbie had specifically stolen for Richard, and Sawyer was very unhappy about it.

Richard had just stepped out of the professors' area when he bumped into someone he never expected.

Ivan Lee.

"Hey! Richard." Ivan Lee was beaming and looked very energetic, showing no signs of the dejection he had been when he was kicked out. He was the complete opposite of Cole Barnes, who had started the shooting.

When he smiles, his mouth stretches wide, as if he's showing off his great teeth.

Richard frowned, too lazy to pay him any attention, and tried to walk past him.

Ivan Lee, however, was unwilling to miss this opportunity and continued to chatter on.

"I found a job at a research institute, $1.8 a month!" Ivan Lee puffed out his chest, his newly bought exquisite tie clip flashing under the light. "Haha, if I had known this, I would have left long ago."

$1.8, an annual salary of $20? Richard looked at Ivan Lee with surprise.

How could such a high salary be given to an ordinary postdoctoral researcher?

Even if he came from Christina's top-notch laboratory, the price was still too high, almost equivalent to the salary of a tenured professor.

Of course, professors have some additional income, which is higher than this, but their salary alone is only at this level.

Richard, however, was too lazy to care and simply replied, "Hmm, sounds good."

Richard's performance made Ivan Lee feel like he had punched thin air.

His smile froze for a fraction of a second before returning to normal.

Richard is jealous of me!

It's just that it doesn't show on their face!

Yes, that's it!

Yifan-Li returned to the student area triumphantly, in a very good mood.

However, seeing the solemn expressions on the faces of the students around him, he could only force himself to suppress it.

Ivan-Li looked around and saw Christina talking to other professors in the distance.

He clenched his fists inwardly: "Richard was just a passerby on my journey; I've already surpassed him! My next step is to surpass Christina, win the Nobel Prize, and reach the pinnacle of my life!"

As he was thinking, he suddenly coughed violently twice, his lungs hurting.

For some reason, I caught a bad cold as soon as I started working at that virus research institute, and I coughed very violently, feeling like something was pulling at my chest.

The student next to him frowned and glanced at him. Ivan-Li quickly apologized and then put on a mask.

Since the major outbreak, everyone has been on high alert. The people around me put on masks with disgust, and the chair legs were quietly moved half an inch away.

Ivan-Li wasn't angry at all; on the contrary, he was quite pleased with himself.

What's a mere cold?

My future is already bright!

If Christina hadn't fired me, I wouldn't have found such a good job.

I should thank Professor Shepherd.

"Father Calvin?" Richard ran into another acquaintance in the religious district.

Father Calvin stood up and greeted Richard: "Yes, one of my believers' children went to school here and tragically died. It was a horrific tragedy."

Calvin looked somewhat sad.

Before the ceremony officially began, everyone was chatting in small groups.

Richard rarely ran into an acquaintance; he didn't know anyone in the religious district, so he simply started chatting with Calvin.

He had a fairly good impression of Calvin.

"Will you be coming to Mass with Her Highness the Saint on Wednesday?"

"Yes."

Calvin breathed a sigh of relief: "To be honest, too much has happened lately." He paused, his tone somewhat unsteady, "Richard, things are changing too fast, and there's more and more going on at St. Carlisle Church."

"I think you're showing off?" Richard made a harmless joke, then added, "Some things always happen unexpectedly. Like how I was just going to school peacefully, and yet I still got arrested by the police."

"You were arrested by the police? When did that happen?"

"It was on Christmas Eve, the day of the fire. A cop was arresting a drug dealer, and he arrested me too. What bad luck," Richard complained casually, shrugging.

"Why were you arrested when they were arresting drug dealers?"

"I ate a hot dog at his stall," Richard said casually. "Just one hot dog, and the police took me to the station as an accomplice."

Calvin smiled and, as was his habit, said, "Whether it's misfortune or disaster, it's all a blessing from God."

"7

He suddenly froze mid-sentence: "You mean, on Christmas Eve, the day of the fire, you were at the police station?"

Richard shrugged: "Thanks to Professor Christina's rescue, otherwise I would have had to spend the night there. It's a lousy place, fifty people crammed into one cell, like a garbage dump."

Calvin's voice began to tremble.

Was the fire God's punishment for the NYPD?

"And then? What happened after the fire?"

"My mentor Christina called a lawyer for me and got me bailed out. A whopping $20,000! The NYPD is so corrupt."

""

Calvin's fingers trembled slightly on his knees.

Seeing that the scene was gradually quieting down and everyone had returned to their seats, Richard said to Calvin, "I'm going back now."

He sat down next to Catherine.

Calvin's knuckles were white from clenching his fists so tightly.

Richard was present during the first miracle of sunlight.

Richard was present during the second Starling Miracle.

Richard was present during the third NYPD fire.

The fourth Princeton shooting was a miracle; Richard was also present.

God, you didn't choose someone with yellow skin, did you?

His heart was filled with anguish.

Lisa Anderson kept urging her boyfriend, "Hurry up, hurry up, it's about to start."

Lyon was a tall, white male, with one hand on the steering wheel, speaking in a calm and unhurried tone.

"It's okay, it's not too late."

As he drove, he turned to Lisa and said, "If we're going sea fishing, can we call the saintess over?"

He spoke of the "saint" with a slightly amused smile.

He just felt that it would be impressive to call that so-called saintess over to show off to his friends.

As for whether the saintess was real or not, he didn't care.

Because it's definitely fake!

Lisa thought for a moment and said, "No problem, I've already made plans with Richard."

Lyon added, "You said that Richard has been staying by Debbie's side. If this continues for a while, the church might be very unhappy."

Lisa was also a little worried, but she didn't think much of it.

Richard doesn't seem to be a good person either. He has a beautiful girl named Helen by his side, and their relationship is ambiguous.

She gave a soft hum.

These faithless people from the East.

"If Debbie really takes the first step towards canonization, the Church will definitely expel Richard," Leon said. "They won't tolerate a yellow-skinned person staying by the side of a saint."

The canonization case is big news in the Catholic Church recently, and Lyon, as a member of high society, had heard about it before.

As for miracles or anything like that, they're definitely fake or just coincidences.

Some people online have already analyzed that if the gun wasn't properly maintained, it could have caused that kind of effect.

"What exactly is Richard's identity? Why is he always with the Holy Maiden?"

Lisa said, "I don't know, but my grandfather valued Richard very much."

Lyon nodded thoughtfully.

I understand. Perhaps he's a member of a prominent family in the East.

Once Richard breaks up with Debbie, I'll introduce him to a pretty girl.

By cultivating a good relationship with Richard, we might be able to develop our careers in the East in the future.

This thought made the corners of his mouth curl up again.

"Alright, we've arrived."

"Let's go find our location."

The ceremony began.

The families of the victims were transported to the rest room by special vehicles, accompanied by clergy and psychological counselors throughout the process.

Some people had their heads down, clutching tissues; others had dry eyes but their steps were stiff.

Officials at all levels entered the venue in turn, proceeded to the VIP section, and took their seats in the designated areas.

Debbie was accompanied by Archbishop Sawyer, whose hand remained half an inch behind her back, as if he were protecting a fragile object.

Wherever they went, all the Catholic members stood up and bowed their heads in greeting.

The atmosphere only calmed down after Debbie sat down.

Richard and Catherine, as Debbie's family members, were assigned to the clergy section.

Debbie sat next to Archbishop Sawyer, in the first row of clergy.

Richard and Catherine were sitting right behind her; it was a specially arranged seating arrangement.

He leaned forward slightly and whispered in Debbie's ear, "If you encounter a question you can't answer, shut up, stay calm, look the other person in the eye, and wait for His Excellency the Archbishop to help you out."

"Okay." Debbie was a little nervous, but Richard's voice calmed her down.

Sawyer gave Richard an approving look.

The survivors also arrived.

They waited in the side corridor to go on stage; some were rubbing their hands repeatedly, while others stared at the ground without moving.

Returning to this place, they recalled the tragedy and felt uneasy.

Richard's gaze swept across that row of faces.

One of them had flames floating above his head, a mixture of fear, tension, anger, and excitement, and he would occasionally glance in Debbie's direction.

Something seemed off. Richard frowned and observed carefully.

It seems to be one of the choir survivors.

His Adam's apple bobbed once, then again, his nervousness practically written all over his face.

Richard knew that someone had finally made their move.

The ceremony officially began.

The lights were dimmed throughout the venue, leaving only candles and the stage.

The shadows swallowed up the stained glass windows of the dome.

The organ played a funeral dirge, the guard of honor sounded the requiem, and the entire audience stood and observed two minutes of silence.

The entire live broadcast across the United States went silent.

After a moment of silence, Principal Colin Ashton took the stage to deliver a speech.

He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief: "A tragedy occurred on Christmas Day..."

'

Her voice choked with emotion; her performance was excellent. After comforting the family, she solemnly expressed the school's determination to strengthen campus security.

Richard wondered if he was worried about the dead and wounded, or anxious about his own position as principal. He speculated, not without malice.

Next, the White House envoy spoke, followed by speeches from governors, senators, and public officials at all levels.

The rescue representatives gave a briefing.

An FBI spokesperson provided a briefing on the Princeton shooting and pledged to strengthen gun control.

Each speaker ended with a comforting remark to the family, their templates neat and their wording safe, as if they had all come from the same printer.

Then came the religious part.

The Jewish rabbi was the first to go up on stage to offer blessings, followed by Muslim imams and Protestant pastors who took turns reciting scriptures.

Finally, there are the Catholic Sawyer and Debbie.

Richard stared blankly at the stage.

This spectacle reminded him of funerals in the countryside when he was a child, where monks and Taoist priests would all come together, and everyone would go on stage to perform a ritual, making it a real hodgepodge.

I wonder if she took off her clothes later...

Uh-huh.

Finally, it was Sawyer and Debbie's turn to go on stage together to officially offer a blessing on behalf of the Catholic Church.

The survivors also came out.

This was a segment specially arranged by Sawyer, where the survivors expressed their gratitude to Debbie, in order to reinforce the authority of Catholicism.

The priests, imams, and rabbis of the other three religions all looked grim, and some of them were secretly muttering something between their interlaced fingers.

In the midst of the solemn silence, Milo, the choir survivor, suddenly stood up and pushed aside the representative who was supposed to speak.

The representative was a bit bewildered; this wasn't what they had planned!

Fk! Sawyer's heart skipped a beat. He stared coldly at Milo, wondering what he was going to do. Cold sweat had already broken out on his forehead.

This is a nationwide live broadcast!

The President's special envoy is also present; perhaps the President himself will be watching!

If you dare to cause trouble, I'll make you regret ever being born!

Sawyer was furious.

The others didn't know who would speak or what was going to happen.

Milo's clenched fists hung limply at his sides, his knuckles white. His voice trembled but remained unusually clear as he demanded, "Miss Debbie Dixon, if you are a saint, you can protect yourself, so why don't you protect us?!"

Huh? The audience was stunned for a moment, then quickly realized what was happening.

Someone's stirring up trouble!

Some people gasped in shock.

Some people were instantly invigorated.

The seat made a series of soft creaking sounds.

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

Sawyer's pupils suddenly contracted.

He instinctively turned his head to look at Debbie, worried that she might say something wrong.

Debbie stood frozen in place.

She was completely unprepared. Faced with the sudden questioning, she didn't know how to respond. Fortunately, she remembered Richard's instructions: don't speak, just stare at the other person and wait for Sawyer to handle it.

She adopted the same aggressive style she used in cheerleading, ready to fight with the bitches, and stared straight at Milo.

As Milo uttered those words, it was as if he had used up all his courage, and he began to tremble.

The clergy from the other three religions remained seated, and no one uttered a sound.

They were watching a play.

A rabbi casually adjusted his glasses, a slight smile playing on his lips.

At that moment, Sawyer finally understood why the Archbishop of New Jersey was willing to give up his position for him.

So that's where they were waiting.

He felt a thin layer of sweat seeping out on the back of his neck.

The victims' families began to cry.

The suppressed grief was torn apart by those words, and the cries spread from the back row to the front row, like a tide overflowing a dam.

This is something they've always wanted to say, but haven't dared to.

Some people covered their mouths, while others buried their faces in their hands, their shoulders shaking violently.

Chaos broke out at the scene, and staff tried to calm things down but couldn't control the situation.

Sawyer stepped forward, placed his hand on Debbie's shoulder, and gently pulled her behind him, looking directly at Milo and saying, "Today, we are here to remember the deceased."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was deep and unyielding.

"Everyone's pain deserves to be heard. But not at this moment. Right now, we all share one identity: people who have lost loved ones. Debbie is also a survivor of that tragedy!"

Sawyer decisively removed Debbie from her saintly status, turning her into a disaster survivor just like everyone else, in order to eliminate hostility.

He paused, shifting his gaze from the young choir members to the entire audience.

"If you have any questions, you can raise them at any time and in any place. But please don't let the peace of the deceased turn into another argument. This is a matter of respect for the 39 victims."

The crowd gradually quieted down; the crying continued, but the chaos subsided.

Some people were sobbing quietly, some were wiping their eyes with tissues, but no one said anything.

Milo said only one sentence and then fell silent; any further provocation would be suicidal.

His words could be seen as the anger of a survivor; he voiced the sentiments of many and even gained the understanding of some.

The conflict has been temporarily suppressed.

The ceremony continued.

The way the victims' families look at Debbie has changed.

It wasn't sadness, it was doubt, it was that question stuck in my throat that I couldn't bring myself to ask.

If you can protect yourself, why can't you protect our children?

Lisa leaned forward slightly in the crowd, feeling a pang of worry for Debbie.

Lyon said softly, "Someone's stirring up trouble."

Lisa nodded.

Washington.

Foster stared at the live stream, a smirk playing on his lips.

This statement doesn't need to yield any results; it's enough to simply plant the seed of doubt there.

It will take root on its own.

This statement put Debbie in a dilemma.

Either Debbie admits she is powerless to protect others, and her saintly reputation crumbles.

If she insists that she is a saint, then all the hatred of the victims' families will fall on her.

Next, all I need to do is launch a public opinion offensive, focusing on the fact that the saintess doesn't save people, and Debbie's reputation will be ruined.

As for that kid Milo, he's finished.

Sawyer will not let him off the hook for saying such things in this situation.

As a disposable tool, Foster wouldn't even give him a second glance.

The important figures present had different ideas.

Most people scoff at so-called miracles.

As Fabian wrote, it may be a coincidence, or it may be a show.

Some even suspect that the gunman's gun may have been provided by Sawyer.

The two senators sneered and analyzed in hushed tones, their lips twisted in the shadows. They exchanged a glance, their eyes meeting briefly in the air before looking away.

At their level, what dirty things haven't they seen?

They already realized that this was just the beginning, and there was something even more deadly to come.

Sawyer must make a choice.

Either admit the miracle was fake, or let the saint bear Mr. Perry's wrath.

The only son of billionaire Perry, the sole heir to the family fortune, died in this disaster!

Christina frowned slightly, wondering who had made that kid say such things.

No matter who makes him say it, that idiot is doomed.

When you question someone who is truly supported by God, you'd better pray that God hasn't noticed.

Unfortunately, Debbie's god was always by her side.

The religious prayer segment was barely passed.

Principal Colin Ashton was sweating profusely. He rubbed his forehead several times with a handkerchief to calm himself down and hurriedly announced that they would move on to the next stage.

The eulogy was read aloud collectively.

His voice sounded dry and rough, like sandpaper, through the microphone.

All the clergy raised their hands together, blessing the entire assembly.

Regardless of your beliefs, you can receive a blessing that belongs to you at this moment.

Li noticed that the scene was inexplicably comical.

It would be even better if you added Guanyin or something.

Richard wasn't angry at all, because he had already noticed that something was off about the kid.

Instead, he was daydreaming that if he could grow to the point where he didn't eat beef, he might be able to start some kind of religious sect.

Imagine them saying, "May the supreme Richard bless us!" That would be incredibly cool.

A yellow-skinned god, praying for the dead in a white world.

What's even funnier is that this yellow-skinned god is also the Grim Reaper.

It's so much fun!

As for that brat who talked nonsense, Sawyer could easily crush him.

Next was the segment where family members shared their thoughts. Colin Ashton thought the damn ceremony was so long!

The attack came as expected.

Byron Perry stepped forward.

"I don't know if Debbie is a saint. To me, she's just an ordinary child who survived a disaster, which is already incredibly difficult. Please don't blame her."

Byron-Perry didn't directly call Debbie a fraud, but every word he uttered struck a chord in the canonization case.

As a top billionaire, he knew exactly which areas to attack to cause the enemy the most pain.

He had already come to regard Debbie and Sawyer as enemies.

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room fell silent for a moment.

Even the crackling of the candles disappeared.

This is equivalent to a top billionaire publicly denying the existence of a saint during a meticulously prepared Catholic ceremony!

The Protestant pastor chuckled inwardly. It's not shameful for religions to feign supernatural powers and perform miracles, but it is shameful to expose their flaws.

Everyone's just watching the show.

Richard glanced at Byron Perry indifferently.

If you dare interfere with my mana regeneration, then you can just die.