In the distance, the onlookers watched through the hedge as Silas knelt on the ground, his behavior strange, their faces filled with curiosity.
"Do you think he can really hear the voice of the dead?" one officer asked.
Roland shook her head. "I don't know."
Jack frowned, looking at Silas. "It doesn't look like he's just putting on an act."
"He's coming around!" Roland said, and the group simultaneously turned, their expressions feigning patient waiting, their acting skills superb.
Silas stood up and returned to the corpse. Now, the body no longer exuded an aura of terror and hideousness but was filled with peace and serenity.
"After the resentment and fear dissipated, the corpse also became less terrifying," Silas thought.
After bowing to the corpse, Silas turned and walked over. "It's done."
Jack eagerly asked, "Found the culprit!?"
The current Jack was a completely different person from the cold and indifferent one before.
Silas remained silent for a moment, then said with a serious expression, "I advise you it's better not to know. I will report this matter directly to the Church."
Hearing this, a flicker of fear passed through everyone's eyes. They closed their mouths and asked no more questions.
"The body can be collected. Ensure it's buried with care," Silas said, then sat down, pressing his forehead.
The series of actions just now had completely exhausted his meager supply of Spiritual Energy. He now felt a stabbing pain in his forehead and a touch of dizziness.
"Are you alright?" The observant Roland noticed Silas's pale complexion.
Silas shook his head and smiled faintly. "Just a bit over-exerted. I'll be fine after a rest."
As the police officers dealt with the body, Silas thought to himself, "I was right. My abilities can indeed greatly elevate the souls of ordinary people. Under normal circumstances, an ordinary person's Spirit Vision is only 0 or 1. To see supernatural events, a Spirit Vision of at least 10 is required. This means merely hearing the voice of a soul can cause a person's Spirit Vision to skyrocket by 10 points!?"
"The more terrifying, the more knowledge something contains, the more significant the increase in Spirit Vision. Hearing the voice of the deceased only increased my Spirit Vision by 1 point. This soul's voice can increase it by at least ten points. Is this sound really that terrifying!?" At this thought, Silas's brow furrowed deeply.
He suddenly realized that his understanding of his own powers was very vague.
Fifteen minutes later, the body had been processed and was carried out of the park by two officers.
"Let's go. I think you need a cup of coffee to pick you up," Jack said, walking over.
Silas stood up and nodded. "Yes, the strong kind, without sugar or milk. Not only am I mentally drained, but my head is also aching."
Jack smiled faintly. "I'll see to it."
Returning to the police station, Silas found that Jeros had already returned and was talking with Orson Heath.
"What's the situation?" Orson Heath asked eagerly.
Silas said seriously, "It is indeed related to the mystical."
Jeros picked up the conversation. "Tell us about it!"
Silas said directly, "It wasn't a human who killed Chuck, but a mystical monster. According to my communication with Chuck's soul, it has huge teeth, a body like…"
He recounted the description in detail. Jeros then said directly, "No doubt, it's a Lesser Ghoul. Their favorite foods are human brains, hearts, and livers."
"Lesser Ghoul!?" Silas was taken aback. Such hideous wounds, and it was only "lesser"?
Jeros explained, "Just because it's called a Lesser Ghoul doesn't mean its body size is small. The 'lesser' is only in comparison to a Greater Ghoul."
With that, Jeros took a sip of coffee. "But I would rather deal with a Greater Ghoul than a Lesser Ghoul."
"Why?" Silas was completely ignorant about mystical creatures.
Jeros explained casually, "Although a Greater Ghoul is about the size of an elephant, its brain isn't very good. It can only charge around recklessly. But Lesser Ghouls are different. They possess the ability to transform into humans, and their intelligence is even slightly higher than that of humans. They can easily blend in among humans, appearing and disappearing like ghosts. They are cautious, incredibly cunning, and will vanish at the slightest disturbance, capable of lying dormant for several years."
Orson Heath, his face looking grim, added, "According to case files, about fifteen years ago, the Empire's Minister of Finance was actually a Lesser Ghoul, his true identity being an Archbishop of the Cold Church."
"The Minister of Finance!" Silas couldn't process this.
In other novels and games, ghouls were usually among the weakest monsters. How had they become so formidable here?
"This matter is somewhat troublesome," Jeros said, falling into thought.
At this point, Orson Heath suddenly asked, "By the way, Chuck was an ordinary person. Why could he suddenly see a Lesser Ghoul?"
"Lesser Ghouls belong to the Sequence 1 Kin. To see them, one's Spirit Vision must reach 13 or higher. Did he say how his Spirit Vision rose to that level?"
Silas, maintaining a composed expression, answered truthfully, "No, his soul was already very chaotic at the time. He didn't even know he was dead, and what he said lacked any logic. He even called me 'Father'."
Hearing this, Jeros raised an eyebrow. "In that case, you really do have a talent for being a Priest."
"Why?"
"When a Priest prays for the deceased, they release the warmest energy, allowing the soul to find the most comfortable and safest feeling. Therefore, at that moment, the soul will address the Priest by the name of their most respected and beloved relative."
After saying this, Jeros looked at Silas. "But this level of effect is not something a fledgling who has only been a Priest for a day can achieve."
Silas smiled wryly. "Please don't tease me. Just praying for him exhausted all my Spiritual Energy. I'm dizzy, and my ears are ringing incessantly."
Jeros nodded upon hearing this. "Go get some rest. You performed exceptionally well this time."
Orson Heath gave a thumbs-up. "Well done, Agent Sotos. Go get some rest!"
Silas bowed and, following directions, went to the tea pavilion on the first floor.
Sinking into a sofa, Silas didn't want to get up again.
"Looks like you really do need a strong, black coffee." As the voice spoke, Silas caught the rich aroma of coffee.
Opening his eyes, he saw Jack sitting opposite him, pushing a still-swirling cup of coffee towards him.
"Thank you. You're a truly good person. The Tri-Moon Goddesses will bless you," Silas said, offering a blessing first, then casually picked up the coffee and took a small sip.
That sip, apart from the rich aroma of coffee, was bitter. Very bitter.
However, Silas didn't mind the bitterness, because it could relieve pain and refresh the mind.
"Aren't you going to interrogate that madman?" Jack asked.
Silas rubbed his forehead. "Forget it. With my current energy levels, I can barely be bothered to talk, let alone conduct an interrogation."