Theresa’s words, though unpleasant to hear, were the truth.
The evil spirit within Annabelle had dared to assault a clergyman like the priest right at the church’s entrance—a clear sign of its utter lawlessness. It was true that federal agents were stronger than the average person in many ways, but when it came down to it, they were still two ordinary people with no knowledge of exorcism, completely defenseless against a malevolent spirit.
“They’re not stupid. They’ll run if they encounter danger.”
“That’s a relief.”
Hearing Su Fan’s reply, Theresa let out a sigh of relief.
“They don’t deserve to die. I couldn’t just stand by and watch them get slaughtered by a demon. But saving them almost felt like I was working against you, Su. At least they can protect themselves—that’s acceptable.”
Su Fan chuckled softly and shook his head.
“I don’t have any major grudge against them. Why would I be upset that you saved their lives? Still, isn’t this the kind of situation where, as a devout believer, you should be urging me to forgive their transgressions?”
“Without having walked in someone else’s shoes, you have no right to tell them to let go of their hatred.”
She paused and couldn’t help but turn her head.
“I’ve been curious for a while now, Su—where do you get these strange stereotypes about believers?”
“Movies, TV dramas. Don’t forget, I live in Hollywood, the world’s center of film culture. Most of these screenwriters have never actually interacted with Vatican faithful. Creative types can’t possibly be experts in everything; most of them just rely on their imagination to fabricate things. So, if a creator takes the time to learn at least the surface-level knowledge of a related field before writing and doesn’t just spout nonsense, they’re already considered one of the better ones.”
While Theresa voiced her dissatisfaction with the Hollywood film industry, Su Fan glanced at the time.
It was already around five or six in the evening. Before long, night would fall.
To avoid trouble from that mentally unstable agent, Su Fan didn’t drive as fast as he had on the way there. Through the rearview mirror, he could see the Bureau’s black SUV keeping a steady distance behind them.
At this speed, we should make it to Father Andrew’s hospital just before dark.
But Su Fan had a gut feeling that this hospital visit wouldn’t go smoothly.
As the road grew narrower, the two of them passed through the city center and entered a residential area with decent greenery. Row after row of townhouses lined the streets, identical to the community that the Paimon cult had once invaded.
“So this is the community where Mia and the others used to live?”
“That’s right.”
Su Fan’s question received a firm nod from Theresa.
“It’s not far from the hospital where John works, and the environment is nice—ideal for Mia’s pregnancy recovery. It was their dream home.”
Theresa was correct.
According to her earlier account, not long after Mia and her family called the police, officers arrived on the scene and promptly used American-style “swift justice” to shoot dead the cult members who were still trying to commit murder. Their response time was impressively fast.
Still, this kind of residential area always seemed to attract the attention of cult groups.
Peter’s family had been targeted by the Paimon sect, and Mia’s family was invaded by Satanist cultists. Even city apartments weren’t safe—Jamie and his group lived in a downtown high-rise, yet they ended up dealing with the oxygen-mask spirit.
As time went on, Su Fan could feel that supernatural attacks were becoming more frequent and spreading further.
With things this bad, the government still hasn’t made a move?
No, they have made some moves.
The FBI had shown up.
But they weren’t investigating the paranormal incidents—they were investigating Su Fan himself.
It was standard government procedure to keep the lower ranks in the dark while the higher-ups stabilized the situation, preventing widespread panic. But as the government of the world’s sole superpower, it was absolutely impossible that the U.S. authorities knew nothing about the supernatural. For all he knew, there might already be measures in place among the upper echelons to deal with spirits and anomalies. It just hadn’t trickled down to the public.
No, most likely, it would never reach the public at all.
Su Fan pushed those thoughts aside, because just then, he noticed a considerable mass of dark clouds gathering in the sky ahead.
The sun, already close to setting, had no strength left to pierce the thick layers of clouds. The last protective light of the sun was blocked, and darkness descended upon the area with a quiet, chilling speed. Even other sounds gradually faded.
Perhaps because the hour hadn’t quite arrived, the streetlights on both sides hadn’t turned on yet.
The environment changed so rapidly that it triggered a deep sense of unease.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Theresa felt as if they were driving straight into a dark, perilous demon’s den.
“Su, something’s wrong.”
Sensing the abnormal atmosphere, Theresa peered out the window at their surroundings and gripped the crucifix pendant hanging above her collarbone. Having faced Bathsheba alongside Su Fan, she had become highly sensitive to the phenomena caused by evil spirits.
“Is the spirit inside the doll coming after us directly?”
Su Fan didn’t stop the car but slowed down slightly.
“It hasn’t come here itself, but it’s pulled a few little tricks.”
As his words faded, thick white fog began to emerge faintly from the woods on both sides ahead.
“Is the camera gear in the car ready?”
Behind the vehicle carrying Su Fan and Theresa, Adam called out to Davis in the passenger seat.
Davis, the slicked-back-haired agent, double-checked the recording equipment in his hands and snapped it shut.
“All good.”
After being chewed out by his partner earlier, Davis had returned to basic professional form. His movements were crisp and efficient.
Agents already had body-worn cameras for recording their actions, but to capture clearer and more detailed footage, they often carried additional filming equipment.
Adam, who was driving, kept a steady distance behind Su Fan’s car. Before approaching Su Fan, they had already exchanged information with Theresa, the Vatican nun. So they were aware of their destination—a private hospital adjacent to the community, where the priest serving as the Vatican liaison was currently recuperating.
Just then, the surroundings, previously bright, began to rapidly darken.
Flocks of birds flapped their wings and fled from the woods on both sides.
A vague sense of danger crept into Agent Adam’s mind. The visibility ahead was so poor he could barely make out the road.
Davis turned in his seat, a hint of surprise on his face.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like a storm is coming, but there’s no sound at all.”
The trees on both sides stood eerily still, not a single leaf trembling, as if they were towering phantoms looming over the vehicles passing between them.
At that moment, the car ahead seemed to lose power suddenly. It slowed down and came to a stop at the roadside.
“Looks like their car broke down.”
Davis made the call, a touch of schadenfreude in his voice.
But no sooner had he spoken than the steady hum of their own engine sputtered and died.
“Ours too.”
Adam’s voice carried a note of surprise.
“Dammit! Those idiots in logistics—are they all useless? I’m filing a report as soon as we get back!”
Davis hadn’t expected that his mockery of Su Fan would backfire so quickly. Frustrated, he cursed the logistics team responsible for their vehicle.
“Fog.”
Davis was still ranting about logistics when he heard Adam speak.
He turned his head and, sure enough, saw a blanket of white.
Thick, dense fog had completely shrouded the forests on both sides, seemingly exhaled by the woods themselves, creeping steadily toward the middle of the road.
In moments, the road that had been perfectly visible was now impassable.
Darkness. Dense fog.
The only sources of light were their headlights, barely illuminating about fifteen meters ahead.
Aside from their own vehicle, all they could see were the taillights of Su Fan’s stalled car up ahead, glowing a dim red through the haze.
“I’ll go check it out.”
Davis volunteered to step out, but Adam stopped him.
“Wait.”
Adam stared intently at the car ahead. Only when he vaguely saw someone step out did he release his partner.
“Now you can go.”
Davis was puzzled by Adam’s caution, but out of trust in his partner, he didn’t question it.
However, the moment he opened the door, a chill wind swept over him, making him shrink his neck involuntarily.
“Why is this wind so cold…”
Davis remembered a past mission in Alaska, where the winter winds cut like knives. But this cold felt different somehow.
He was about to walk around to the front and pop the hood when he saw Adam inside the car suddenly widen his eyes.
Then, something ice-cold wrapped around his neck!
Someone was attacking him!
Under the chokehold, Davis immediately tried to break free, reaching back to grab the attacker’s head.
But his hands touched nothing!
What?!
Davis froze in shock, then raised his hands to his own neck, trying to pry the arm away—but again, he grasped nothing but air!
From Adam’s perspective inside the car, a gaunt man with sunken, dark-rimmed eyes, a pale, bloodless face, and sharp fangs floated in midair. With one arm wrapped around Davis’s neck, he grinned maliciously at Adam.
Adam had watched Davis try and fail to grab anything twice. How could he not realize what the gaunt man really was?!
But at this point, it didn’t matter whether it was human or ghost. Adam knew that if he didn’t act fast, Davis would be strangled to death!
He threw open the door and rushed out, stopping in front of Davis. He drew his gun and fired point-blank at the gaunt man’s forehead.
But bullets had no effect on a ghost!
The entity let the gunfire flash harmlessly against its skull, even shooting Adam a mocking glance before tightening its grip even more!
Davis, deprived of oxygen for too long, was turning purple, his eyes rolling back.
Deep, visible strangulation marks appeared on his neck where there was nothing to be seen!
Just when Davis seemed destined for the grave, a voice—ethereal yet filled with authority—rang out!
Adam couldn’t understand the words, but from a few phrases, he could vaguely make out that it was nearly extinct Latin.
A white light burst forth from a tiny crucifix.
The gaunt man who had been choking Davis let out a pained howl.
Then, as if struck by an invisible force, he was sent flying backward, vanishing into the thick fog!
Freed from danger, Davis collapsed to the ground, clutching his neck and coughing, struggling to catch his breath.
He looked up and saw the Vatican nun who had been traveling with the dark-haired young man.
