Chapter 1932 U Transcendence Event (Twenty-Three)

After the welcoming banquet, the exorcism ceremony proposed by the priest was immediately prepared. Mr. Nehelet and the old-fashioned Hancock, who returned later, had no objections, but they did not look very fanatical or pious, just a little noncommittal.

The priest suggested that the ceremony should be held in the bedroom of the crazy Isabel, where the devil could more easily show his traces. Nehelet and Hancock did not object, and when several supporters of the ghost possession theory said they wanted to watch, they also calmly agreed.

The one who made the most noise was Mr. Proshi, who blocked Isabel's door and shouted, "You can't all come in. There's not enough space here, and it's very rude. She's just a little girl! There's no devil at all!"

"Get out of the way, Proshi." Mr. Nehelet said helplessly, "This is for the good of your niece. Do you want her to go crazy like this?"

Then he turned around and smiled apologetically at the few people and said, "He is my wife's brother. He was mentally stimulated in his early years and is a little crazy. Please don't mind it."

"But my daughter's bedroom is not big enough to accommodate so many people. How about this, let the housekeeper take her to my bedroom, where the space is bigger and won't squeeze you."

Of course, everyone agreed happily, and under the guidance of the servants, they walked through the corridor to the master's bedroom.

In the Catholic cultural circle, the host and hostess sleep in separate rooms after marriage. The bedrooms of the host and hostess are quite luxurious. Mr. Nehlet's bedroom is no exception. The inner room of the bedroom alone is almost as big as the dining room.

What surprised Schiller was that when he walked to the master bedroom, the tall man named Hancock deliberately walked a few steps slower, fell beside him, and asked in a dull tone: "I heard that you are a doctor? Which department are you from?"

"Cardiac surgery, I am a cardiac surgeon, and I am best at pediatric cardiac surgery." Schiller replied.

"So you came for Sherlock?"

"I only heard that your family encountered some troubles. As for which young man and young lady it was, I will not investigate so offensively." Schiller looked forward, without even looking at Hancock, and said calmly.

Hancock seemed very satisfied with this answer, quickened his pace, caught up with the large group, and Schiller glanced at his back and smiled.

Batman also walked a few steps slower and landed beside Schiller. He said, "It's very wrong, isn't it? This family is very wrong."

Schiller looked at the backs of Hancock and Mr. Nehlet and said, "I can only say that antisocial personality and psychopathy are not inherited through blood, but they can be cultivated and learned after birth, and children will follow suit."

"Do you think they are psychopaths?" Batman did not ask any more questions, but continued, "But they don't quite meet the characteristics of psychopaths."

"No patient will get sick according to the textbook." Schiller gently adjusted his tie knot and said, "They will never realize that the things that bring them an advantage and allow them to be above others' spirit, those so-called wealth, status and reputation, are all fragile and pitiful."

Batman felt a hint of coldness from Schiller's tone, but there was no anger mixed in it, just a bottomless coldness.

"Art is not about burning a sword and then smashing it, but about hammering a useless piece of scrap iron into a knife. They will use the sharp blade to cut through every mask, so that those self-righteous high-ranking people will understand how stupid and short-sighted they have been."

Schiller quickened his pace and walked to the front row of everyone. The Batman who was left behind looked at his back. He had a sense of calm before the storm, as if things were at a node of subtle change.

Everyone entered the master bedroom. Isabel was lying on the bed with a pale face. It was not the first time Schiller saw her, but it was the first time he observed her closely.

This was a delicate little girl. Although her pale face and bloodless lips made her look more like a lifeless doll, it could not cover up her delicate facial features inherited from her mother.

When Mrs. Nehelet saw her daughter's appearance, she could no longer hold back her tears. She sat on the bed and cried softly. Mr. Nehelet gently hugged her, patted her back to comfort her, and asked her to leave temporarily.

Mrs. Nehelet did not resist, but stood obediently at the head of the bed. The crowd of onlookers moved a little further away, and only the priest walked forward and poured the holy water he had just prepared into a white ancient porcelain dish.

He picked up the cross and shook it on Isabel's forehead, muttering ancient prayers in a low voice, and smeared the holy water on Isabel's forehead with his fingers, and then touched her chest and wrists respectively.

At first, Isabel didn't react, but soon she woke up in a daze. Seeing so many people surrounding her and a weirdo holding various utensils in his hands, she was frightened and began to scream helplessly. Mr. Nehelet hurried forward to comfort her: "Don't be afraid, Isabel, the priest is performing an exorcism ceremony on you, and you will get better soon."

Isabel curled up at the head of the bed and began to scream meaninglessly. She made everyone think that she couldn't speak at all, but Schiller knew that she could.

Suddenly, Isabel tilted her neck and made a whirring sound, and then kept scratching her neck with her fingers, as if it was itchy.

"The holy water is working." Someone shouted, "The devil seems to be burning, he will be burned to death by the power of the holy water!"

Isabel's movements became more and more intense, scratching and kicking her legs, and she kept making a sound of drinking, from scratching her neck to scratching her cheeks.

Suddenly, a strong big hand grabbed her wrist, and Isabel looked up and saw a slightly familiar face.

Schiller grabbed Isabel's wrist tightly. Everyone was startled by his sudden rush. When the bystanders were about to scold him, Schiller said in a steady tone: "This is acute allergy. Go get the allergy medicine immediately!"

Everyone was confused and hesitant, but the priest was stunned for a moment, then looked down at the holy water in his hand, and then said to Mr. Nehelet opposite: "Please go get the medicine, sir, the situation looks a little wrong. The reaction of the devil to holy water is not like this."

The authority spoke, and the discussion of the crowd subsided a little. Mrs. Nehelet looked at her trembling daughter, screamed, and shouted to the housekeeper: "Go get the allergy medicine!"

The housekeeper ran out in a hurry. Schiller did not miss the expressions of the three people opposite for a moment. Sure enough, when Mrs. Nehelet spoke, the tall man named Hancock had a hint of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

Allergy medicine was delivered soon. Fortunately, although it was an acute allergic reaction, the degree of allergy was not serious. There were only some symptoms of suffocation and itching all over the body. Schiller dissolved the tablets with warm water and fed it to Isabel.

During the process of feeding the medicine, he saw some red rashes on Isabel's body through her collar, which should be caused by allergic reactions, but there was a bruise on her back that looked like it had been there for a long time, as if it was caused by falling somewhere.

Schiller carefully retracted his gaze and just took the towel from the housekeeper's hand to wipe Isabel's sweat. Mrs. Nehelet finally couldn't help crying and broke down. She said, "Thank you, doctor, thank you, I really don't know why this always happens to my child, God..."

"What's going on?" Hancock looked at the priest and asked, "Why is Isabel allergic to holy water?"

The priest did not answer immediately, but stared at the pale Isabel for a while and said, "I used local water sources and didn't add anything else. I guess it was dust or some special substance stuck on the utensils. She was allergic to it."

Hancock sighed and said, "There was a chance to save her, but it was such a coincidence..."

"Can you please think of another way?" Mr. Nehelet looked at the priest and said sincerely, "As long as my daughter can be saved, the Nehelet family will provide a generous reward. We are willing to do our part for your church."

The priest's eyes never left Isabel's face. His expression showed a little complexity, but he still said, "I'm afraid I can't do anything, gentlemen, I will go to the church to pray for her."

After that, he turned and left, and the farce ended more than an hour later.

Before Schiller returned to his room, he heard the servants at the entrance of the porch say: "What a poor child, even God is unwilling to save her. Suddenly she is allergic to holy water. Isn't it a sign that God has abandoned her?"

"Maybe there is no demon, but this child did something that displeased God. Maybe she didn't pray devoutly. The daughter of the Nehlet family has become an outcast. Sir and Madam must be very sad, right?"

Schiller listened silently for a while and returned to the room. After a while, he called the housekeeper and said, "Excuse me, which room does the priest live in? I am interested in the local educational books and want to ask him in person. I wonder if you can take me there?"

Soon someone led Schiller to the door of the priest's room. The priest failed to exorcise the demon. Logically, he should have been packing up and preparing to leave. But when Schiller knocked on his door, he found that the priest was sorting out his clothes and utensils.

Hearing Schiller's intention, the priest sighed, opened the door and let Schiller in. Before Schiller could say anything, the priest nodded and said, "I know it's not an allergy to dust. Someone added something to the holy water. It's my fault."

"That child was not abandoned by God." The priest turned around a little hunched and said, "But she was indeed abandoned."

"And you feel you can't do anything."

The priest turned around and looked at Schiller with clear eyes. Schiller also looked at him and said, "I know that feeling. I and other medical staff used an almost perfect operation to save a child with congenital heart disease. God couldn't be better to him. Everything went so smoothly."

"He died on the third day after the successful operation. Because of his parents' property dispute, he was taken out of the hospital early. Three minutes after the instrument was turned off, he had no vital signs."

"At that time, I also felt that I was powerless." Schiller lowered his eyes and said, "I ended my career as a surgeon."

The priest's eyes were filled with tears. He began to cross himself and pray, but he kept shaking his head.

But Schiller's eyes suddenly changed, and he took a step forward.

The priest's eyes froze, and he took two steps back as if he realized something. Then he heard Schiller say in a low voice:

"Twelve hours after their child died, the parents who came to claim the body were so sad that they jumped from the ninth floor of the hospital... and I became a psychiatrist."