I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 133 The Clues to the "Miracle" (9K long chapter, please vote and subscribe)

Richard walked to the window and pushed open the glass.

An owl flew silently from afar and landed precisely on Richard's forearm.

Richard closed his eyes.

The owl's twelve hours of memories all rushed into his mind at once.

He quickly skipped the worthless flight memories and went straight to the footage of the owl monitoring the Rosenberg laboratory.

From the air, the Rosenberg Virus Laboratory looks like a fortress composed of three gray fortresses.

The main body consists of three square concrete buildings, with traces of reinforced sealant patching all over the walls. All the windows are sealed off, and even the ventilation openings are fitted with three layers of filters.

The owl circled around dozens of times but couldn't find a place to enter.

Richard had seen this level of sealing before.

In Christina's laboratory, the operating room for handling dangerous pathogens is sealed like this, with every seam sealed and every corner tested for positive pressure.

Rosenberg wrapped himself up even more tightly than the BSL-4 laboratory, and what was inside was probably more dangerous than Ebola.

If nothing unexpected happens, even a mouse won't be able to get in.

These places all have special measures in place to prevent rodents and insects.

Wherever the military handles biohazards, the first line of defense is dealing with various small animals.

Flies and mosquitoes might fly in, but it won't make much difference.

The flesh puppets have limited intelligence. Richard can have them track a fixed person, keep an eye on a certain location, or monitor whether anyone is coming. They can only execute such simple commands.

Letting them in to independently search for potentially useful information is impossible.

Perhaps it will be possible after future upgrades.

Since Rosenberg was involved with the military, Richard dared not act too rashly.

He put the owl back in the refrigerator and put the matter aside for the time being.

There are more than a dozen Protestant branches in New York, the most powerful being the Habsburgs, Episcopal Churches, and Evangelicals.

The branches are not as united as outsiders imagine.

Theological exchanges are nothing more than a facade; mutual distrust is the norm.

After finishing discussing today's events, the evangelical bishop Dawson-Oswald dropped the pretense and simply leaned back on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.

"What are you looking at, Bishop Oswald?" Stanley Keaton, the National Superintendent of the Anglican Church, glanced at his screen while holding a cup of coffee.

Bishop Dawson-Oswald chuckled and turned the screen around for him to see: "Remember that saint named Debbie that the Catholic Church recently promoted?"

Stanley Keaton nodded.

Hearing the commotion, Grant Knight, the New York Baptist General, put down his teacup and came over.

The others were not interested and turned to leave.

Only three people remained at the scene.

Every year, the Protestant Union gathering is like this: a few polite words at the beginning, then everyone exchanges information, and then it's over. It's even worse than a church social gathering.

"It's the girl I saw at the memorial service in Princeton."

"I wonder how they managed to get that silk scarf. Could it be a coincidence?"

"Who knows? The Catholic Church loves doing this kind of thing." Dawson-Oswald's tone carried a hint of disdain.

In fact, the three of them didn't look too good.

Church leaders laugh when Catholics perform miracles, but only they know in their hearts that they are jealous.

As high-ranking members of the church, who hasn't participated in performing miracles?

This is like magic; those who watch are amazed, but those who know the principle just see it as a performance.

The problem is, they simply can't understand how Debbie and the Catholic Church managed to do it!

In their view, this method of bestowing sacred objects by God is quite deceptive, and they could learn it themselves to deceive believers.

However, they thought about it for a long time but still couldn't figure out how to imitate it.

They've tried all sorts of forgery methods, but with the advent of high-definition cameras in the technological age, many things that were difficult to do before are now hard to replicate.

However, no matter how they analyzed the result, the final conclusion was that there was no airflow disturbance or thin thread pulling the scarf; the scarf simply floated over on its own.

All three of them spent a lot of money to buy the original high-definition video recording of that day.

After the trajectory of the scarf falling was analyzed frame by frame, its motion curve was found to be driven by no external force that could be explained by physics. It was not blown by the wind, pulled by a string, or magnetically levitated.

It slipped off the statue of the Virgin Mary's shoulder without any detectable external force, crossed the entire stage, and landed on Debbie's shoulder.

This is really a bit outrageous!

Dawson-Oswald could only shrug and laugh, "Surely the saintess isn't real, is she?"

"Heh." Grant Knight, of course, didn't believe it either: "I don't believe I can take on anything else this time."

"Probably not. Even if they were to create a miracle, they wouldn't repeat the same miracle twice. That's too low-class. I want to see what new tricks the Catholic Church can come up with this time, given how highly they've elevated Debbie."

In fact, all three of them watched the live stream with a learning attitude.

Debbie is really good at creating miracles and wonders.

We must learn!

The live stream finally cut to the scene.

Several people were stunned after taking one look.

The cross hanging on the wall is empty!

An empty cross!

The Catholic cross is a cross of suffering and torment, with a statue of Jesus's flesh crucified on it.

The Giants cheerleading audition venue had an empty cross hanging there.

Only Protestants use empty crosses!

"This is our cross?" The three of them looked shocked.

They were just watching a Catholic play, and now they suddenly find themselves on stage.

"Is the cheerleader in charge Protestant? I've never heard of that." The three looked at each other in bewilderment.

They looked at each other; the National Superior of the Anglican Church looked at the Evangelical Bishop of New York, and the Evangelical Bishop of New York looked at the Superior of the Baptist Church of New York.

Everyone wanted to find a "I did it" expression on the other person's face.

Nobody admits it.

"What's the name of the Giants' owner?"

"David Hart".

"That guy! He used to be an Anglican, then converted to Judaism. Judaism doesn't hang empty crosses!" Stanley Keaton, the Anglican Superintendent, looked the worst.

The Anglican Church follows a high-level elite route, and high-level elites like David Hart usually join the Anglican Church.

Being used as a tool by capital is more disgusting than being confronted head-on by Catholicism.

"Damn David Hart, he did it on purpose! He doesn't care about doctrine at all, he just wants to make the show more entertaining. He put us on there so that the Catholic Church can see who is disgusting their saints."

""

"This MF wasn't intentional?!" Evangelical Bishop Dawson-Oswald blurted out.

The evangelical online propaganda machine is the strongest of the three branches, but it wasn't them who did this.

David Hart put Protestant symbols on a global live broadcast without any prior notice to scrutinize the selection of Catholic cheerleaders!

That's too abstract!

And they couldn't even explain why it wasn't their doing.

Because no one would believe the explanation anyway.

The three of them looked unwell.

The composition of believers in Anglicanism, Purebreds, and Evangelicals is quite different.

The Anglican Church primarily serves high-level elite circles.

The Baptist community is primarily composed of middle-class individuals, with strong grassroots influence and a liberal leaning.

Evangelicals, who are closest to the conservative grassroots, are very adept at using public opinion and propaganda.

But at this moment, the three of them found themselves being the ones being publicized.

A Jewish businessman used them for an unauthorized free publicity campaign, claiming that Protestants intended to teach the Catholic saints a lesson.

"David Hart is taking advantage of our disgusting Catholicism."

The three of them suddenly looked at each other and smiled.

"However, disgusting Catholicism... Haven't we done enough of this kind of thing?"

Grant Knight added, "Anyway, after today everyone will say we did it. Let's just admit it, consider it us supporting Debbie and teasing that old man in the Vatican."

"Alright."

So, the evangelical Bishop Dawson-Oswald posted a picture of the scene on his social media account, along with the caption: "Good luck, Debbie."

Vatican.

Pope Celestine VI started a live broadcast from his private study.

He imagined eight girls sitting formally in the office, the judges asking questions, and then Debbie being politely eliminated.

His contingency plan was to wait until Debbie was eliminated, then Sawyer would issue a low-key statement saying that the church respected the Giants' selection results and also respected Debbie's choice.

This way, the church's dignity is maintained, and it won't be interpreted by outsiders as "the church forcing the saint to give up her dream."

After that, he ended the farce surrounding the canonization case and gradually distanced himself from Debbie.

Then he glanced at the live broadcast room and started to lose his composure.

The live broadcast room was a basketball court, brightly lit with neon lights and decorated with flowers, making it look like a fashion show!

The most outrageous thing is that right in the center, there's a completely empty cross hanging there!

"These heretics!" The Pope's face was grim. "It must have been those Anglican or Evangelical heretics. They're always deliberately going against us. They knew Debbie was going to participate in the selection, yet they deliberately put up an empty cross to insult her!"

The Pope suddenly realized he had made a mistake.

He himself asked Sawyer not to interfere, and as a result, the Giants and the Protestant Church have fallen into this mess!

He then thought of another troublesome matter.

What would happen if Debbie had not been accepted by the Catholic Church and had instead converted to the Anglican Church, the Pure, or the Evangelicals?

Those heretical sects also have saints and saints, but they do not prohibit marriage.

With Debbie's reputation, she would receive preferential treatment at any church.

At that time, the Catholic Church will lose all face!

"Have Sawyer talk to David Hart; I don't want to see Debbie in the cheerleading squad!"

"This... Your Majesty, it may be a bit too late. Those Protestant heretics should have already made their move, and the two sides may have reached some kind of deal."

"...I wrote directly to David Hart, stating my bottom line was that Debbie could not make an official appearance."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Evan Sanders placed paper and pens on the table and set up the camera.

I want to record the live stream and analyze it frame by frame!

Hmph! I'd like to see what tricks Debbie Dixon is up to this time.

If I find even the slightest flaw, I can write a whole bunch of articles to tear her apart!

This time, that bastard Fabian caused him a huge loss.

Eben was simply trying to capitalize on the saint's popularity to promote his new book; he had done this countless times before and had never messed up.

But this time, it wasn't a car that overturned; it was MF that plunged off a cliff!

It's impossible to revise seven books in a month, so some books will definitely be discontinued after a month.

Moreover, I'm being targeted by those bitches at DEI, so even if I finish revising, it will be difficult to pass the review. Some of my books might even be permanently discontinued.

A quick calculation shows that the annual losses exceed one million, or even more!

Evan felt a pang of pain just thinking about it.

That's no small amount of money; it's the money he uses to maintain his yacht and private dock at the Baytop Manor, the money he uses to vacation in the Caribbean, and an indispensable part of his respectable life in New York!

And that money is now being withdrawn from his account one by one.

Furthermore, the biggest loss is that this book, "New York Love," has been halted by the editor and is undergoing urgent review!

It's called an emergency review, but in reality, it's only after this wave of controversy has passed. It will take at least three months, and maybe longer!

This time, his attempt to create a buzz backfired. Not only did it fail to bring any positive benefits, but it also attracted the attention of a scoundrel who used plagiarism accusations to cause him a lot of trouble.

Someone has already filed a lawsuit in court!

The new book's sales may suffer a major setback.

Fabian, that wild dog, wasn't he the one who opposed miracles and tore apart all sorts of false gods before?

Why are you staring at me and biting me?!

Get sick!

Evan felt incredibly unlucky, as he had encountered all sorts of terrible things.

Before the live stream started, Evan posted a status update: "I'll be watching the Giants cheerleader auditions today. If some 'saint' pulls off another so-called 'miracle,' I'll analyze it frame by frame and tell everyone the truth!"

He even prepared several hashtags in advance: #TheTruthAboutTheSaint #FramebyFrameAnalysis

Langdon-Jacobs is making final preparations with the technicians.

The boss assigned the task in such a tight timeframe that he didn't even bother to find a decoration company. Instead, he had his team set up a basketball court and turn it into a live-streaming interview room.

To achieve the best dramatic effect, he placed all eight female candidates in a row, opposite the judges' panel.

Debbie was naturally placed in the very center, C position.

The judges consisted of five people, with Langdon himself serving as the chief judge, and the others being cheerleading coach Edmund Black, communications director Atticus Fleming, a team representative, and the marketing director.

The rules are very simple: each girl answers questions one by one in order, with Langdon asking the main questions and the other four supplementing.

However, Langdon doesn't intend to let the four of them speak today; he has to handle his boss's task himself.

Due to the tight schedule, he didn't have time to arrange other projects.

The scene, with an empty cross hanging and other decorations, looked like a Protestant stronghold.

The empty cross was temporarily nailed on by the lighting technician Soren at Langdon's request. It might not be very secure, but that doesn't matter, it's just for today.

The boss wants to put on a theatrical performance to boost Debbie's popularity, so let's give her a miracle!

Langdon considered more than a dozen options and ultimately chose the simplest one.

There wasn't enough time to prepare.

Moreover, many miracles are now easily exposed, while technical malfunctions cannot be exposed.

This isn't the first time Langdon has done something like this. He's been with the Giants for seven years, and every year the team pulls some kind of stunt, but none of them have been as crazy as this year.

"Is it all set up?" Langdon asked Soren.

The lighting technician was squatting behind the control panel adjusting the angle: "Don't worry, you can trust me to do things."

Langdon couldn't possibly be at ease.

"There absolutely cannot be any mistakes!"

David Hart was no benevolent man.

He was fairly generous to his subordinates, but he also demanded that they do what he asked of them, otherwise he would be extremely ruthless and show no mercy.

Soren gave an OK sign.

Langdon whispered, "Here's a thousand now, and another thousand after it's done! Don't mess it up!"

Langdon rolled up the banknotes and stuffed them into Soren's pouch, then patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk toward the judges' table.

Soren happily adjusted the equipment.

"You're ruining her, Foster! You're ruining her!" Bishop Isaiah Douglas roared angrily into the phone.

He wanted to keep Debbie until he could get rid of Sawyer and then promote her.

As a result, the passing down of sacred artifacts at a memorial service left him with no opportunity to act, forcing him to lay low and wait for the future.

Debbie had just caused a mess when Archbishop Foster-Dolan of Washington did not hesitate to take drastic measures.

He didn't receive any prior information about the joint proposal signed by 270 believers and 33 bishops!

More than 300 people!

As one of the most influential bishops in the New York diocese, he was astonished that no one had informed him in advance!

Isaiah was terrified; Foster's reach extended far beyond what he had imagined.

He even had some doubts about whether he could successfully take over the position of archbishop if he helped Foster get rid of Sawyer.

Could Foster's henchmen suddenly steal his archbishop position?

"Hmph! Debbie is a fake, you can't make her work!" Foster said, clearly annoyed.

It took Foster several days to calm himself down after the last miracle of the relic's inheritance.

He was terrified that Debbie might actually be a saint, which would be a huge problem, but he also couldn't bear to see the position of cardinal slip away from him.

Sawyer was the weakest archbishop he had ever encountered; if he couldn't seize the opportunity, he would never be able to become a cardinal in his lifetime!

"That's enough," Isaiah said coldly. "Our cooperation ends here."

He hung up the phone immediately.

He picked up his phone, and a message notification popped up: "Saint Debbie will be participating in the Giants cheerleading auditions this afternoon at 3 PM. Live broadcast! Click here to enter the live stream!"

"The selection of cheerleaders for the Holy Maiden can be broadcast live?" Isaiah immediately understood.

Either David Hart profited from this.

It was either the work of Protestant heretics!

"A bunch of blasphemous bastards, they all deserve to go to hell!" Isaiah cursed a few times, but still opened the live stream.

The online battle of words last night was extremely fierce.

He knew that the New York church was not supporting Debbie.

Debbie had made a huge mess, and he couldn't very well offer to help.

Fortunately, the Giants will only make a small amount of money from this incident.

He dared not include Debbie in the cheerleading squad, and the archbishops of other dioceses jointly sent a threatening letter to the Giants, demanding that Debbie be eliminated.

David Hart certainly wouldn't dare take the risk.

His main concern was Foster, worried that Foster might strike again today and ruin Debbie's reputation.

That video last night was devastating!

If even a little more dirt gets out, Debbie's reputation will probably collapse instantly.

"How can this girl cause so much trouble!" Isaiah was very troubled.

"Thank goodness, I'm not Sawyer. That guy's probably going crazy with worry. Heh."

This is probably the only good news.

He watched the live stream while trying to find humor in his predicament.

Richard drove with Catherine and Debbie to the New Jersey Giants' cheerleading headquarters.

The crowds were immense, with countless reporters and numerous netizens waiting to watch the spectacle, all holding up their phones to take pictures.

The most outrageous thing is that there was even a ticket tent set up at the entrance.

Apart from a few mainstream media outlets, any media outlet or audience member can buy tickets to attend this cheerleader selection process.

Richard was speechless.

The Giants' owner is quite the clever fellow.

They turned an internal company interview into a carnival, and even started selling tickets.

His ability to monetize every single step of the process certainly makes him a tycoon.

Debbie stepped out of the car with her head held high and her chest puffed out.

She came here today expecting to fail, which actually made her bolder, because she no longer cared.

This morning, she spent twenty minutes looking in the mirror choosing her outfit before leaving home. In the end, she chose the cheerleading uniform from Francis Lewis High School, not because it looked good, but because this uniform had accompanied her through countless battles, and she had won every single one.

"Debbie! Look! Debbie's here!"

"She was wearing a high school cheerleading uniform!"

The reporter immediately pointed the microphone at Debbie: "Debbie! Last night you posted a video saying you insisted on being a saint and also wanted to be in a relationship," who were you talking to? Are you openly defying the Church?"

"Catherine has been divorced twice. Do you think that affected your role as a saint?"

"Evan Sanders called your boyfriend a 'yellow peril,' what's your response?"

"If you were eliminated today, would you feel it was a result of pressure from the church?"

Each question was like a bullet, and Debbie's face turned cold.

Richard immediately held her down and glanced at the group of reporters.

So far, he hasn't found a single journalist with a conscience; it's a terrible profession.

Fortunately, the staff came over immediately and escorted Debbie and the other two inside.

Ordinary onlookers joked, "She's really beautiful!"

"Of course, those who make it into the Super Bowl cheerleading team are at least one in a thousand beauties."

"Why is she wearing a cheerleader outfit? Weren't we supposed to wear formal attire?"

"Debbie is definitely not going to win today; she's given up on treatment."

"Hahaha!"

"Her Highness is so carefree!"

Everyone knows today that Debbie has no chance of being chosen; they're just watching how she fails.

She posted those kinds of comments online; if the Catholic Church doesn't remove her from office, it's a slap in the face for the Catholic Church.

Debbie walked into the interview room and looked around in surprise.

This is a basketball court. There are eight chairs in the middle and a long table with five chairs opposite it.

Clearly, the five judges were sitting over there, and the eight candidates were sitting over here.

A huge cross hangs overhead; it's an empty Protestant cross.

Wreaths were everywhere, and the largest flower even had the Giants' logo printed on it.

All the reporters were gathered in one side of the audience area, while the other side was occupied by thousands of ticketed spectators.

Richard truly hadn't expected that the Giants would turn this interview into such a spectacular show!

Elsa and three other girls have already arrived.

They were dressed in serious formal attire, but their expressions changed the moment they saw Debbie.

"Look at her! Mr. Fleming, look at her!" Elsa pointed excitedly at Debbie and shouted to Atticus Fleming, "She's not wearing a suit! Get rid of her!"

Atticus Fleming glanced at it: "When did I ever say that not wearing a suit would result in elimination?"

"WTF?" The girls were all dumbfounded.

You clearly said yesterday that everyone should wear formal attire!

They spent a lot of money renting their business attire for today, each hoping to at least outshine the others in terms of clothing.

Debbie showed up wearing her high school cheerleading uniform!

And Atticus Fleming acted as if nothing had happened.

Look at what you're wearing?

A stiff, unfashionable suit.

What about Debbie?

Her stunning cheerleading outfit perfectly accentuated her figure, and her striking makeup was exactly the same as in the previous game.

Elsa suddenly felt like a returned item wrapped in a suit.

No matter how high-end a formal suit is, it can't attract as much attention as a cheerleader's outfit!

FXXK!

Bitch!

"But, but..." Elsa refused to give up.

"I didn't say that, you're mistaken." Atticus Fleming looked at her coldly.

Elsa could only give up in resentment.

She was furious, but there was nothing she could do. In the end, she glared fiercely at Debbie.

Clearly, I've been tricked!

This bitch gained special privileges through massive public attention!

So unfair!

Just then, Langdon suddenly walked over and said softly, "Debbie, I'm Langdon Jacobs, the PR director. Come on, I need to talk to you about something."

Debbie glanced at the name tag on the other person's chest and realized it was the same person who had called her last night to tell her to quit. Her good mood vanished instantly: "I'm here. Go ahead and eliminate me now if you dare."

"I think we need to talk, Catherine, hello..." Langdon didn't know what to say, so he could only hint to Debbie and Catherine to go aside and talk.

Catherine hesitated, unsure of what the other party wanted to do, and worried that there might be some kind of trap.

Seeing the goodwill and tension on Langdon's face, Richard said to Debbie, "Go ahead, it's alright."

"Okay." Debbie looked at Richard, then at Langdon, before following Langdon over.

Langdon couldn't help but glance at Richard again; Debbie listened to this boy too much.

The high school cheerleader was known for her spoiled and willful nature, and her personality was truly rare.

Langdon pulled Debbie aside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, and said in a low voice, "No matter what happens later, don't panic, okay?"

Debbie was very wary: "What do you mean? What do you want to do?"

After being threatened by Langdon on the phone last night, she has categorized the man as an enemy.

"Listen to me, forget about yesterday's phone call," Langdon said softly. "The boss guarantees you'll be selected, don't worry."

"Hmph! You're lying to me!" Debbie said shrewdly.

"Listen up, Debbie! Calm down! Things have changed. The Giants need buzz, and you need to be a cheerleader to slap the Catholic Church in the face. Let's cooperate for a win-win situation!"

"Keep making things up, keep making things up," Debbie said dismissively, arms crossed.

Langdon was speechless.

Why is this girl so difficult to communicate with?

He felt some sympathy for the Catholics.

Forget it, let her be. As long as she makes her own choice, what can others say?

The Giants are a privately owned team.

Delia arrived as well, and was immediately annoyed when she saw Debbie's eye-catching outfit.

She then saw Langdon and Debbie talking in a corner; the two were clearly at odds, and the atmosphere was tense and confrontational.

Delia sneered, "Look at Mr. Langdon-Jacobs's face. He definitely wants Debbie to back out on her own, to save face. This silly woman obviously doesn't agree."

Elsa rolled her eyes and chimed in, "You idiot, you won't even take a chance when offered one!"

The women all agreed, "That's right."

"Look at that empty cross, it's clearly meant to make Debbie look bad!"

The girls laughed, then glared at each other, snorted, and parted ways.

They are also competitors.

Now that Debbie is out of the running, the seven women are direct competitors and have begun to scheme against each other to win the middle position.

At that moment, a staff member came over and placed a nameplate in front of each chair: "Sit in your assigned seat!"

The women were furious to find that everyone's positions had already been assigned.

Elsa and Delia were placed on the far sides, while Debbie was placed in the middle, which greatly annoyed the two women.

"That damn Giants boss will do anything for money. He's clearly using us as foils for Debbie." Delia bit her lip.

"Anyway, being in the cheerleading squad is what makes you a winner. She's already out!"

"Hmph! It's best if they're eliminated!" Delia felt a little uneasy. The current arrangement left her somewhat bewildered. Would something unexpected happen?

Elsa envied Debbie.

Elsa's goal was very simple: to make money.

Make a name for yourself in the cheerleading squad, then sell videos on 0F. You can then brand yourself as a "former cheerleader for the Giants," which will definitely attract a bunch of LSSPs.

She's already planned it all out: she'll wear the Giants cheerleading outfits in her first few videos, and they're sure to be a huge hit!

Whether Debbie makes it into the cheerleading squad or not, she's already famous, gaining hundreds of thousands of fans overnight. If Elsa were in her shoes, she could just drive traffic to OF and become a star!

"I must pass the interview!" she encouraged herself.

The room gradually quieted down, and everyone took their seats.

"It's starting! It's starting! Hurry, Dad!" Clara nervously turned on the live stream.

"I didn't expect the auditions to be broadcast live, that's great! I want to see Debbie get selected, join the cheerleading team, and then go on stage to dance."

She was in exceptionally good spirits today; her voice trembled with breathlessness, not because she was out of breath, but because she was too excited.

How could he have been chosen? Aaron dared not say it aloud.

Debbie posted that video last night; the Catholic Church must be putting pressure on the Giants.

He looked at Debbie, one of the eight girls on the screen, and thought about how he felt when he was nominated for an Oscar a few times before.

That feeling of knowing you can't win but still betting all your hopes on it is similar to Debbie's.

Thankfully, I succeeded on my last attempt; I just don't know if Debbie will succeed.

After entering the live stream, the father and daughter simultaneously exclaimed, "Damn it!"

In the very center of the venue hung an empty cross, a Protestant symbol, clearly a provocation against Debbie's status as a Catholic saint!

Clara only complained a few times, but Aaron thought about it more deeply: "The Catholic Church and the Giants have broken up. If they hadn't, the Giants wouldn't have used Protestant symbols to deliberately provoke Debbie. I wonder if any Protestants got involved."

Cage Cancer Center.

Mitchell watched the live stream with great interest: "Time for the surgery, hurry up! Mitchell! Stop watching!"

"OK! OK!" He put his phone away and strode towards the operating room.

It's a pity that the saintess made a huge blunder yesterday, so she definitely won't be able to join the Giants' cheerleading squad. Otherwise, it would be really interesting to see her doing cheerleading dances in the future.

such a pity!

That high school cheerleader is really brainless!

The scene fell silent.

All the lights are working properly.

Langdon-Jacobs slapped the microphone: "Alright, now the Giants cheerleader backup auditions officially begin. We have eight candidates today. I don't know which girl Lady Luck will choose, but there's always one lucky one today..."

"7

All the girls tensed up and straightened their backs.

All the reporters at the scene pointed their cameras at the eight girls, specifically Debbie.

Even though Debbie knew she had little hope, she couldn't help but feel nervous.

Langdon glanced at the darkness behind the curtain: "But every girl is perfect. It's a tough choice. I really hope God will give me some guidance..."

'

Just then, all the lights in the venue suddenly went out.

"What's going on?" Everyone was terrified.

"Lighting malfunction!"

The entire venue was plunged into darkness.

Only one light is on!

It landed precisely on Debbie.

In complete darkness, Debbie sat alone in the light.

Everyone involuntarily turned to look at her.

That beam of light was warm-colored, the effect of the lighting technician carefully adjusting the parameters.

The position, direction, and color were perfect, hitting Debbie's face at a 45-degree angle, like a ray of holy light filtering through a stained-glass window in a church, illuminating the face of the Virgin Mary.

Debbie sat in the chair, motionless.

She was somewhat bewildered. Who am I?

where am I?

What happened?

Is there this performance segment?

I don't know.

She simply remembered what Sawyer had told her: stay calm and keep quiet when faced with situations she couldn't handle.

She sat there quietly, like a perfect goddess under the camera's lens.

Langdon stood up, slammed his fist on the table, and roared, "Who did this? Fix it right now!"

Lighting technician Soren feigned panic and shouted, "Right away! Right away!"

He crouched behind the control panel, a slight smirk playing on his lips in the shadows.

The whole process lasted less than twenty seconds and was quickly completed, with the lights on site turning back on.

"Is this a miracle?" The crowd erupted in uproar.

"Is the lighting malfunctioning?"

Why is it only Debbie who shines?

"coincide?"

"Man-made!" the Baptist president scoffed.

"Hmph! We've been using this tactic to death for years!"

The other two also burst into laughter.

"This 'miracle' was of very low quality!"

"Turns out, Catholicism doesn't have that many amazing miracles after all!"

In their view, the "miracle" was full of loopholes, but it produced good results.

The comment section is already flooded with comments like "OMG!", "She's so beautiful!", and "She's a saint!"

Of course, many of them were paid trolls hired by Langdon.

The Baptist president was extremely jealous.

They spent forty years playing GG, and never in one night had millions of people simultaneously typing "This is God" on their screens.

"Debbie looks so pretty."

"She must be the saintess, otherwise why would all the lights be off except for hers?"

"Perhaps it was a miracle performed by the Giants in cooperation with her."

"How could that be? The Giants practically hate her to death."

Who knows?

The Baptist president angrily said, "Damn the Catholic Church, they deceived everyone! They put on a show with the Giants last night to make everyone think they wouldn't cooperate with Debbie, but they definitely did!"

"That's it!"

This kind of light miracle requires the assistance of the organizers; otherwise, Debbie and the Catholic Church would never be able to do it.

"We've all been played by the Catholic Church and the Giants!"

Dawson-Oswald silently opened his phone and deleted the message he had just sent.

"Got you!" Evan's eyes lit up.

The lights went out too deliberately, the timing of the spotlights was too precise, and the chaotic ending was too exaggerated. The whole performance felt like a stage play staged in a community theater.

Most importantly, he caught Langdon's last look and gesture!

That's a code!

This so-called miracle was just a performance!

Your Highness, I've finally caught you red-handed!

>