I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 149 Undead Warrior (5K long chapter, please vote and subscribe)

At the same time, a light flashed above Sebastian-Hale's head at the very front of the church.

It wasn't as intense as Irving's, but it still transformed into light, and then split off into a [leaping soul].

"Ding! You have obtained [Leaping Soul] x1."

Richard was quite surprised.

No, you're a cardinal, you've been exposed to so much incriminating material about the church, and you actually believe it?!

Richard checked the skill panel: "[Soul Animation]: You have begun to glimpse the mysteries of the soul, and your mastery of the soul has reached a level beyond the comprehension of mortals. You can consume 1 [Leaping Soul] to animate a flesh puppet, granting it immortality. It can attach to any item, transforming that item into a [Soul Guardian]. The [Soul Guardian] can automatically draw mana from its surroundings or be rapidly charged by a necromancer via [Soul Threads]. It completely obeys the necromancer's commands, casting [Illusion Trap] on its target. Mana Cost: 15."

This skill looks complicated!

It looks like the alchemical guards that stand guard outside the mage tower, only the necromancer version. I need to go back and study it carefully.

So that line wasn't called the "Puppet Line," it was called the "Soul Line."

The only problem is that it "automatically draws magic from the surrounding environment." Where does Earth get its magic?

Absolutely not!

No wonder I can't automatically and slowly recover my magic power; I can only recover it indirectly by converting into unclaimed faith.

It turns out that magicians in the magical world absorb magic power from their surroundings.

Just then, the system sounded again: "Ding! [Soul and Desire] and [Flesh and Bone] dual branches have exceeded level 3, activating the dual-system composite magic [Undead Warrior] to unlock the quest."

"【Undead Warrior】Unlock Quest: Craft 5 【Soul Guardians】, Craft 10 units of 【Fresh Flesh】 with a Mana Abundance of 50."

Richard was stunned.

There's also dual-elemental composite magic?

Are the "Undead Warriors" skeletons?

However, considering how high the unlocking requirements are for this thing.

Richard suspected that the [Undead Warrior]'s combat power was exaggerated.

The Mass is over.

Sebastian Hale approached Debbie, nodded slightly, and said in a low voice, "Saint-Debbie, the Church will support Your Highness. The Lord's choice is clear."

Debbie was confused; she didn't understand what she meant and said naively, "Thank you, Cardinal."

Richard, who was not far away, heard it and understood it.

I just don't know if this "church that will support you" is the Pope's church or your own church, Cardinal.

Richard walked over; he always felt that this guy had some strange ideas.

You're not planning to kidnap my wet nurse and pull off a Catholic version of "using the emperor to command the princes," are you?

Richard was on high alert.

Sebastian Hale turned his head and gave Richard a calm look: "May God bless you, young sir."

The tone was polite, neither too intimate nor too distant.

Richard, however, sensed hostility in his self-glow, the kind of hostility that seemed to want to throw him at the stake.

Another damn racist!

Or perhaps it's the Ancient Tomb School, which insists that saints must be holy.

The final activity was for Sebastian-Hare, Sawyer, and Debbie to come together at the entrance of St. Patrick's Cathedral to bless all the devout believers.

Debbie walked in front, followed by Sebastian Hale, and lastly Sawyer.

The crowd followed the others as they moved out of the church.

Debbie and her two companions walked out of the main entrance and stood on the high steps.

The pilgrims cheered wildly, standing below with their hands outstretched as if they were drowning and pleading for help.

"Saint-Debbie!"

"Saint Debbie, please grant us the Lord's protection!"

"Follow the saintess!"

Some people knelt down, and some were moved to tears.

Irving's devout faith had just swept over everyone, making them feel as if they were seeing a god appear before Debbie.

In the distance, a group of Protestants were also caught up in the outburst of faith, and some were at a loss.

Most of the people in the distance were angrily shouting, "Reject extreme conservatism!"

"An empty cross is still a cross!"

In the news section, flashbulbs were going off.

Debbie was a little nervous, but she remained calm overall.

After all, she was a cheerleader who performed with the rugby team, so she had seen a lot of things.

Just then, a stone flew out from the crowd of protesters on the other side of the street.

It flew towards Debbie in a low arc, with a piercing whooshing sound!

"Damn liar! Go back to your cheerleading squad!" a young man with a triangular bandana covering his face roared and hurled a slingshot.

The crowd gasped in surprise.

"Be careful!"

"Stop her!"

Richard locked onto the guy the instant the stone flew out.

The hostility in their eyes was too obvious.

The masked man threw it quite accurately, and it flew straight towards Debbie, as if he had practiced.

A magical hand appeared in the stone's flight path and gently patted it upwards.

The stone track visibly shifted, passing over everyone and flying into St. Patrick's Cathedral.

Snapped!

Whoosh!

Some sacred objects used for prayer were smashed.

This scene was captured by countless cameras at the scene, and no one understood why the trajectory of the stone suddenly rose a bit.

This is completely inexplicable!

Everyone exclaimed in surprise, "Saint-Debbie is alright! The stones couldn't have hit her!"

"No bullet can hit the saintess!"

Some people had already knelt down, and some had begun to pray.

Police officers immediately rushed into the crowd of protesters and pinned the young man who had thrown the stone to the ground.

The baton and fists rained down on him, leaving afterimages.

The first to rush in were the most devout police officers.

"The police are beating people!"

"Kill them!"

"Let him go!"

"Run!"

Smoke bombs flew out from the crowd of protesters and landed in the open space between police and pilgrims, spreading rapidly in thick white smoke that obscured sight and sound.

"Let's go!" Richard grabbed Debbie's wrist and returned to St. Patrick's Cathedral without hesitation.

Church security personnel followed and escorted the saint away.

The shadow followed alertly.

Richard, his two companions, and a cat got into the car. As the car door closed, smoke was engulfing the church's main entrance.

Debbie was stunned: "Being a saintess is far too dangerous!"

Richard remained relatively calm.

It's quite normal for the United States, a seemingly technologically advanced but actually strange country that's very much like Warhammer, to produce some fanatical believers.

People believe in Scientology, let alone these other religions.

Even after returning home, Debbie was still somewhat shaken.

Richard went to the study and couldn't wait to start studying.

First, my mental state improved, and I finally reached 15 points.

There's only 1 point left until 16 o'clock to revive a new servant.

The effects of various spells, such as Magic Hand, Touch of Pain, and Flesh Golem, are enhanced accordingly.

Apart from that, the increase in mental strength this time was not particularly noticeable.

Perhaps death sensing can acquire more memories; we'll have to test that later.

Most importantly, the newly acquired magic, [Soul Animation]!

Richard pulled the fly puppet that had been resurrected in the church from his pocket. With a thought, a ball of light, visible only to him, floated out and entered the fly puppet.

This consumes 15 points of magic.

The fly puppet transformed into a pure form of light, semi-transparent, and was no longer a physical entity.

Richard could no longer touch it with his fingers.

He pulled a purple gauze scarf from his pocket, and the fly puppet flew toward the scarf, disappearing into it like a drop of water before vanishing without a trace.

The Soul Thread was connected to the purple scarf.

Is this the soul guardian?

Richard looked left and right but couldn't see any change.

However, he could sense the gauze scarf, just like he could sense a flesh and blood puppet.

Huh, a tiny, barely visible fly has appeared in the corner of the scarf.

Flies... they're so ugly.

Can't we get a different one?

The next second, the image of the fly changed according to Richard's wishes, eventually transforming into a pattern of lightning bolts and thorns intersecting.

Great, very energetic!

Richard was very satisfied, and then he continued to ponder it.

What is an illusion trap?

Richard instinctively learned to use the Soul Thread to send commands to the Soul Guardians.

Release the Illusion Trap!

"Please set the effects of the illusion trap."

"Hmm... excruciating pain? Never mind, unleash the intense light on me."

No magic...

Ok.

Sure enough, this damned Earth has no magic!

Richard's newly replenished magic power has once again become depleted, and he can only squeeze out a little magic power to send into [Soul Guardian].

This time, the [Illusion Trap] has finally been unleashed.

Richard felt a sudden flash of inspiration, and then it was over...

Holy crap?

This piece of junk isn't even as bright as a flashlight!

What's the use of this!

It also consumed 2 points of magic power.

It's not worth the price!

Richard then tried the hallucination of excruciating pain.

Richard felt a sharp pain all over his body, roughly equivalent to having a fever.

It will be over soon.

Richard started to get a headache.

I had high hopes for them, but they turned out to be such a disappointment.

The effect of this magic is most likely related to mental stats.

He removed the [Withered Resentment] ring, and his mental energy dropped back to 13 points.

I tried the strong light again.

Sure enough, the light intensity decreased, even less than the brightness of a mobile phone screen.

If that's the case, then in the future, when one's spirit is high, the effect of [Soul Guardian] will become extremely powerful.

For the time being, it seems to have little significance.

If it can't be used for attacks, what else can it be used for?

Richard pondered for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

Send a message!

Sound can be considered an illusion, but using the soul thread, this thing can be used for one-way remote communication for the time being.

It may not sound as good as a mobile phone, but if used properly, it can have some amazing uses!

Richard had already thought of various uses for it.

He used his soul thread to infuse the scarf with a new auditory illusion and commanded, "From now on, you will only activate this on Debbie."

As soon as everything was set up, Debbie walked into the room, her spirits mostly restored: "Where are we going tomorrow?"

"It's good to be brainless." Richard said, "You're going out again in the next couple of days, do you want to get hit by a rock?"

Debbie pouted.

Richard turned and left.

Debbie picked up the purple silk scarf on the table and prepared to tease Shadow.

The moment she picked it up, a voice suddenly rang in her ears: "The path you choose is the path chosen by God."

"Ah!" Debbie was startled and screamed as she dropped the purple scarf.

Richard turned his head: "What are you doing?"

Debbie exclaimed in horror, "The scarf can talk!"

Richard glanced at her: "You might as well say the shadow can talk; that would be more believable."

Meow? The shadow tilted its head.

"Really!" Debbie exclaimed, disgruntled. "You don't believe me? Try it!"

Richard picked up the scarf: "Hi?"

Richard said, feigning nonchalance, "It's ignoring me, why don't you give it a try?"

Debbie carefully touched the scarf.

The scarf did not react at all.

The magic is exhausted.

"Alright, you've probably been scared today. Go to sleep." Richard patted her shoulder and turned to leave.

"I didn't," Debbie said suspiciously, looking at the scarf. "I just—"

She remembered what the scarf had just said.

"The path you choose is the path God has chosen."

Either I have a mental illness, or I really am God's chosen one!

No, how could I be schizophrenic? I must be God's chosen one!

That's great! I was chosen!

Debbie didn't believe it at first, but everyone told her she was a saint, and with one miracle after another, she finally started to believe it.

Otherwise, there would be no explanation for that stone today.

She clearly saw the stone turn a corner and fly into the sky.

"I was chosen after all!" Debbie gripped the scarf tighter, her lips curving into a smile like a child who had stolen candy, trying hard not to laugh.

She watched Richard walk downstairs.

I will protect you!

She encouraged herself, knowing full well that many people didn't like her having a boyfriend, and even less so that she would choose someone of Asian descent.

I will protect you, Richard!

I am a true saint!

hum~

The night was dark.

The unclaimed faith at Baytop Manor was intermittent, but it still restored Richard's magic power to its maximum of 30 points.

Richard's phone lit up with a message.

Alex: "Your girlfriend is really something else! Run!"

Richard: "What now?"

Alex: "Didn't you see the video online?! That rock they threw at Debbie today, holy crap! It really did curve!"

Richard: "How come I didn't notice it when I was there?"

Alex: "You're blind! Either it's the angle, or you can watch videos online from all sorts of angles. It's definitely warped! Your girlfriend is illogical! I suspect she's a vixen!"

Richard: "Maybe it was the wind?"

ALEX: "Oh no, you're really bewitched by that vixen! What kind of wind could blow a rock like that! Come back to my hometown with me for the New Year. There's a shaman there who can perform a ritual to exorcise evil spirits for you. I don't know if she speaks any foreign languages ​​or if she can communicate with foreign demons and monsters."

What nonsense! Richard: "You're just jealous that Debbie is prettier than your girlfriend!"

ALEX: "Honestly, I went through all of Debbie's old videos, and honestly, the more I watched, the more creeped out I got. You'd better be careful and find someone else; there are plenty of fish in the sea."

Richard: "Alright, I'll be careful."

Alex meant well, after all, and he didn't know how to explain it.

Alex concluded by saying, "You really won't let my celestial being jump around?"

Richard: "Get lost. You'd better think about yourself. Stop talking nonsense online all the time. You'll be in trouble if someone starts watching you."

Alex: "Make money, bro! I'm broke!"

Richard chatted with Alex for a while and felt much better.

Soon, an unknown number called.

Richard answered, "Who is this?"

A male voice came from the other end, carrying an unspeakable arrogance. The voice itself made Richard feel as if someone was looking down at him: "Mr. Richard, I am Elton Monroe. My brother Lyon gave you his yacht? I disagree. That boat is Monroe family property; he has no right to transfer it privately. You have three days to bring it back and dock it at its original location."

Richard hung up the phone immediately.

Damn it, you're insane.

He put his phone in his pocket, thought for a moment, and then sent Brian another message: "Check Elton Monroe, and the Monroe family."

Brian didn't press for a reason: "I understand."

Small cargo ships moored at the dock.

A bearded man is making a dying struggle.

The man in the black jacket tightened a wire around his neck and chuckled, "Relax! Relax! It'll be over soon, the pain will stop soon."

boom!

boom!

With a thick beard and bloodshot eyes, he frantically clawed at the wire around his neck while his feet pounded against the deck.

The reaction stopped very quickly.

"Phew~" The man in the black jacket stood up with satisfaction, a genuinely cheerful smile on his face.

He took out a butterfly knife and stabbed the bearded man in the heart again.

Then, humming a cheerful tune, he leisurely walked into the cockpit.

There was also a body lying in the cockpit; it was the captain.

He searched the entire ship and only disembarked after confirming there were no survivors.

The man in the black jacket squatted on the shore, washing the blood off his hands with seawater, looking as relaxed as if he had just killed two fish.

The more you do this kind of work, the more energetic you become.

After washing his hands, he casually wiped the water off his clothes, picked up his phone, and sent a text message to Alger: "Cargo ship clearance sale."

After Isabella and O'Connor took office, the NYPD made a lot of moves.

However, it doesn't matter.

The key factor is the Monroe Group’s recent expansion in the defense industry.

Monroe is likely a supporter of Isabella and O'Connor.

So, let's skip the NYPD for now and go straight to investigating Monroe.

The thicker the line, the more worthwhile it is to follow.

The sea breeze blows.

Very comfortable.

The man in the black jacket stretched lazily towards the sea: "What a beautiful day!"

Isabella sat in the main seat, her two supermodel-like long legs propped up on the table, while a group of high-ranking officials kept their eyes down and remained indifferent.

"Very good." Isabella said with a smile, "It's been five days. The surveillance footage is missing, the investigating officers have been transferred three times, and OCME only received all the bodies yesterday. So far, 24 officers haven't finished their investigation! Five days! 17 people have been cleared of suspicion, 6 are still going back and forth, and not a single clue points to the real culprit in the murder case."

"Blake Bowman was found dead on his own sofa, stabbed through the heart. The door wasn't pried open, and the window wasn't broken. It must have been someone he knew."

"The problem is, which acquaintance? There are three thousand people in the entire NYPD who he can invite into his home."

'

Miller remained silent.

Tyreke sneered.

A large organization won't be moved around at your whim just because you're the boss.

There are organized ways to play this game. Even if you manage to get into the mayor's bed, I have a million ways to trap you in this web.

"Matterson asked me to attend a public hearing the day after tomorrow, which is basically just a bunch of people insulting me..." Isabella put her feet off the table, her heels hitting the floor with a crisp sound.

Isabella sneered, "Since you want to embarrass me, then I'll embarrass you too. Since I can't catch anyone, I'll catch those I can."

"From now on, everyone, everyone in the NYPD, can send anonymous whistleblower reports to my chief's email address. Who embezzled, who took bribes, who slept with whom, who covered up whom, who owned several companies outside—I want it all."

"If the investigation finds it to be true, the whistleblower will get half."

"If the killer of Blake is found..."

""

Isabella smiled seductively: "Then the whistleblower will be immediately promoted to police commissioner, and if the whistleblower is a police commissioner, they will be promoted to senior police commissioner. Now that they are a senior police commissioner, they will be promoted to deputy director."

The scene was deathly silent.

Everyone was stunned, their faces filled with disbelief.

Miller jumped to his feet, his voice almost cracking: "You're kidding! This is an inside whistleblower! You're undermining the NYPD's foundation! Whistleblower reports, false accusations, framing—you can get any kind of trash into your inbox! Do you know how many people will suffer?"

This completely threatened the IAB's interests, as internal oversight was originally within the IAB's purview.

Isabella bypassed him and directly used an internal whistleblower tactic, effectively sidelining the IAB.

Miller's hands were trembling, whether from anger or panic, it was hard to tell.

He pointed at Isabella: "You're on the wrong path, Chief Rose!"

Isabella turned her face and looked quietly at Miller.

Her eyes were crazed and icy, causing Miller to involuntarily take a half-step back: "Everyone can be reported. Including you, General Manager Miller!"