America: The Cremator

"But that Bible may have been corrupted or even destroyed by some strange force. After all, it hasn't been consecrated for over a hundred years."

A nun suddenly approached, looking anxious, and said, "Father Samuel..."

Samuel gently waved his hand to stop the nun, then bowed apologetically to the two of them: "Excuse me, I need to attend to some church matters first. You two are free to investigate here, but please do not go down into the well rashly, and especially do not touch the well water."

Sulong stood at the edge of the well, pointing to the scratch marks, and turned to look at Elena.

"The water here is too deep, both physically and in a transcendental sense."

"The thing at the bottom of the well that could make four exorcists disappear without a trace could not be suppressed by a few bottles of holy water."

Elena straightened the collar of her trench coat, her brows furrowed in seriousness.

"Indeed, going down into the well without understanding its exact structure would be like handing that thing a snack."

As the two walked through the overgrown courtyard of the church and were about to leave, Elena's cell phone rang urgently.

She answered the phone, and after listening for a few words, her eyes instantly sharpened.

"Stella, are you sure?"

"Okay, I'll head back to the lab right away."

After hanging up the phone, Elena looked at Su Long and spoke very quickly.

"Stella found a new anomaly in those two pills, and she needs me to go to the scene to confirm it."

Su Long wanted to get into the car, but his eyes glanced at the dense forest outside the church wall.

In those distorted shadows, a tattered figure in military green was crouching behind a bush, peering around cautiously.

It was the homeless man who had just been chased out by the clergy.

Sulong changed his mind.

"You go back first. I'll wander around the area a bit more and then take a taxi home later."

Elena didn't ask any further questions; she had an almost blind trust in Sulong's survival skills.

As the roar of the Mercedes-Benz G63's engine faded into the distance, Sulong turned and walked towards the dense forest.

Stepping on the rotting, withered leaves, the sound of them crunching underfoot was sickening.

The woods were filled with a lingering musty smell, mixed with the stench of rotting excrement.

Behind the dead oak tree, Suron found a makeshift tent made of plastic sheeting and branches.

The tent was covered in black mud, and its edges were torn by the wind like a tattered flag.

A few flies buzzed around a pile of garbage at the entrance of the tent, where there were some moldy pizza scraps and opened cans.

Su Long leaned down and looked into the tent, where he saw the burly man huddled up, with a damp set of bedding underneath him, the edges of which were covered in mold.

He was like a wounded wild animal, his body huddled as much as possible inside his filthy overcoat, with only his left foot wearing a dirty boot, and the sock on his other foot even had a hole in it.

Su Long stopped three steps away and did not approach.

"Hey buddy, are you okay?"

The man didn't respond; he just stared intently at a beetle crawling on the ground.

Su Long crouched down, trying to look the other person in the eye.

Upon closer inspection, the man's sense of misery became even more pronounced.

His eyes were unfocused, his pupils were unfocused, his fingernails were filled with black grime, and his exposed wrists were covered with various old abrasions.

Su Long's voice softened slightly as he tentatively asked, "What's your name?"

The man's thick beard twitched.

After a long while, a very weak, hoarse roar came from his throat.

"Lucas...Lucas Kronen."

Su Long's hand, which was reaching for his pocket, froze in mid-air.

The images he had just seen on television flashed through his mind.

The king who was as fierce as a brown bear in the ring and dominated the heavyweight boxing world for years was actually this madman in front of me who couldn't even speak properly.

"Lucas, what are you doing here by this well?"

Su Long asked again, even activating his weak spiritual vision, but found nothing unusual about him.

After Lucas uttered his name, he fell into that deathly silence once again.

He began to tremble violently, clutching his head with both hands and making unconscious murmurs.

Surong realized that the fear this man had experienced had completely shattered his mental defenses.

He took out his phone and dialed Dania's number.

"Su? Is there something you need from me at this hour?"

Dania's slightly languid voice came through the receiver.

Sulong cut to the chase: "Help me find someone, Lucas Kron, the former boxing champion."

There was a silence of about three minutes on the other end of the phone before Dania's voice came through again, but with a more serious tone.

"Found him. Lucas Crown, used to be an extremely tough guy, but he's completely changed since his daughter went missing in Cedar Ridge."

"After losing several official matches in a row, he became a regular at the family's underground boxing matches, and even fought in underground boxing matches at the Ice Wolf Tavern for a period of time."

"During that period, he would go out to the Cedar Pass area to look for clues, and when he came back, he would drink heavily and box. After drinking, he even had conflicts with the referees and teammates at the boxing gym."

"After the family settled his payment, he left on his own. I didn't expect you to be able to find him."

Looking at the boxing champion curled up in the filth, Surong asked, "Danya, could you find him a place to stay on your turf? Preferably with a doctor."

"This person is very important to me, both professionally and personally."

Dania chuckled softly on the other end of the line.

"There are still a few empty rooms on the second floor of the Ice Wolf Tavern, where there are also private doctors who specialize in treating external injuries and nerve damage."

Send me the address, and I'll send a car to pick you up.

Twenty minutes later, a black Chevrolet Suburban pulled up beside the forest road.

Sulong half-dragged, half-pulled Lucas into the car.

But he never expected that this man, who could once knock down a 200-pound opponent with a single punch, would now be as light as a withered leaf.

Half an hour later, the car pulled into the small parking lot behind the tavern. When Suron got out of the car with Lucas, Dania was already waiting at the back door.

Today she wore a loose-fitting two-tone baseball jacket and dark blue jeans, her long golden hair swaying gently in the night breeze.

When her gaze fell on Lucas, her previously indifferent expression was instantly replaced by astonishment.

"My God... Sue, are you sure this is Lucas?"

Dania stepped forward and looked at the homeless man in front of her, who was covered in stench and seemed delirious.

"When I saw him two years ago, he could still tear his opponents apart in the ring, but now he looks like a homeless man suffering from chronic malnutrition."

Su Long didn't explain much, but simply gestured for two tavern security guards to come and help.

They carried Lucas up to a clean and tidy private room on the second floor.

The tavern's private doctor, a middle-aged man wearing thick-rimmed glasses, quickly took over the patient's care.

He lifted Lucas's eyelids, checked his reflexes, and finally shook his head helplessly.

"Mr. Suron, Miss Dania. His health is extremely poor; he suffers from long-term malnutrition and multiple soft tissue contusions."

The doctor took off his mask, his expression serious.

"The most serious issue is his mental state. He is suffering from extremely severe acute stress disorder."

"In order to protect himself, his brain forcibly cut off most of the cognitive connections with the outside world."

Su Long stood by the window, looking at the city lights twinkling in the distance.

"Is there any way to bring him back to normal?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses and pondered for a moment.

"He needs a very strong emotional anchor. Something that can awaken the deepest emotions within him."

"For example, his most cherished possessions, or photos of his closest relatives."