Let's Join a Church

By refusing to let the agency suck his blood, Lin Rui had held on to the living expenses his parents had given him for studying abroad. But his real troubles were only just beginning.

His parents imagined that he could receive an "advanced" American education, then soar effortlessly to success and bring glory to his ancestors. But that was far too simplistic.

In his previous life, Lin Rui had not stayed long at the community high school the agency found for him, much less learned anything. Getting into an American university was nothing but a fool's dream.

As an Asian, he had suffered endless bullying in high school and naturally ended up working illegally at a Chinese restaurant. He had not dared tell his family, either. He could only swallow his broken teeth along with the blood.

Now, though, illegal work was absolutely out of the question. It was too hard and exhausting.

If this were twenty years later, Lin Rui would rather imitate those "gold-medal lecturers" and livestream himself begging online than get a job.

Unfortunately, it was 2005. The mobile internet had yet to take off, so livestreamed begging was not an option.

"Should I live off a woman?" Lin Rui had the phone numbers the flight attendants had given him. He was confident that his charm could get him onto the fast track of being kept by a rich woman.

Especially that alluring head flight attendant. At first, she had been as cold as frost and had even expressed displeasure over Lin Rui's "free upgrade."

But after a few words, she had become flirtatious, affectionate, and understanding.

No wonder people said flight attendants were prone to getting into trouble...

Young, beautiful women spent more than ten hours on transoceanic flights in an enclosed space over ten thousand meters in the air. Given enough time, it was perfectly normal for something to happen.

"There's nothing shameful about living off a woman. It's earning money through your own abilities, and at least it's easier than working. But..."

Lin Rui had great confidence in his future. With his "foreknowledge," he was fully capable of making waves in America.

If he wanted to trade stocks, he could buy tech stocks on Nasdaq.

Apple, Google, Microsoft, Tesla, and the like would see their stock prices soar over the next decade or so, delivering returns of two or three hundred times the investment. The profits would be enormous.

If he wanted to lie flat and make money, he could get eight hundred or a thousand bitcoins once they appeared. After hoarding them for a decade or more, he would never have to worry about food, drink, or entertainment for the rest of his life.

If he wanted to strive for success, this was the eve of the mobile internet boom. There were plenty of rising winds strong enough to send even pigs flying.

But the future was the future, and now was now.

Lin Rui's family was up to its neck in debt. They were counting on him to complete his studies, make a name for himself in America, and repay it a few years later.

After falling out with the study-abroad agency, he did not even have a place to stay. He had to consider where he could find somewhere cheap and safe to live.

But in New York, cheap meant unsafe, and safe meant expensive.

This international metropolis seemed inclusive, but in reality, its class boundaries were rigid.

Every class lived within its own comfort zone, with chasms between them that were difficult to cross. Anyone dressed shabbily would be turned away from many neighborhoods, hotels, and public places.

These invisible class divides were utterly ruthless and cold.

America's "kill line" had not appeared only twenty years later. It was a chronic affliction that had always existed, running through everything from beginning to end.

Before getting off the plane, Lin Rui had carefully gone over his memories from before his rebirth. A better idea had begun to take shape, one that would help him obtain his "first pot of gold."

During his previous life drifting around New York, he had inevitably come into contact with the churches scattered throughout its neighborhoods while seeking relief-denominations in America were as numerous as hairs on an ox.

If all he wanted was to "beg," it really would not be difficult.

Most church personnel, however, had little compassion. They simply devised ways to swindle donations, using the banner of "charity" to line their own pockets.

In the United States, donating to churches was a field of study unto itself, a huge industry, an enormous pie. Very few people genuinely did charity work, and Lin Rui happened to know one.

"Plenty of people get reborn and go into business, copy books, farm, or develop technology. But I don't think I've ever seen anyone get reborn and work their way into a church."

Lin Rui looked at his fifteen points of charisma and his "Charm" skill. "The way I am now, besides living off women or becoming a male escort, I'm a born religious charlatan!"

Being a religious charlatan had one advantage: it was a relatively genteel, respectable occupation. It made meeting people from every class easier, as well as bridging the divides between them.

America had plenty of seminaries, much like the schools of Marxism back home. All you had to do was recite scripture, making them very easy places to coast through life.

Gritting his teeth, Lin Rui decided to take a little risk.

He took the airport express to Manhattan in New York, then rode the subway north from Manhattan to the Fortieth Block in The Bronx.

On the subway, he lamented how badly New York's trains stank. The smell of marijuana and urine was everywhere, the cars and facilities were decrepit, and plenty of "performance artists" aboard were showing just how low they could sink.

Even more lamentable was that this damned subway would still look the same twenty years later. At most, some crude railings would be added to the platforms to stop lunatics from pushing passengers onto the tracks to be crushed to death.

When he reached the Fortieth Block and emerged from the subway, Lin Rui went on high alert, watching in every direction and listening all around, constantly keeping an eye on strangers in the street to avoid an untimely disaster.

The reason... New York was both heaven and hell. Often, only a single street separated the two.

Outsiders only knew that Brooklyn in New York had poor public safety, but The Bronx to the north was hardly any better. The 40th Block in particular was a slum plagued by extremely serious violent crime.

How bad was it?

In broad daylight, addicts high out of their minds would gather in filthy, chaotic neighborhood parks, randomly jab needles into passersby's necks, or swing nail-studded clubs as they searched at random for victims.

If it were only a simple jab, that would be one thing. There was still hope of being saved. Some addicts, however, injected air into their victims with syringes, and that could truly kill.

That was merely one small aspect of the poor public safety. In reality, the city's "trash" congregated here, and the dangers of living here went far beyond that.

It was clearly a bright, sunny day, yet as Lin Rui walked down the street, everything in his field of vision seemed gloomy. The neighborhood's residents were mainly Black and Latino, and its crime rate ranked among the highest in the United States.

A handsome, clean-cut young Asian man appearing amid a crowd of disheveled addicts was far too out of place. Naturally, he attracted one ill-intentioned look after another.

Lin Rui turned up his collar to hide his face and hurried along with his suitcase, following the memories in his head.

After walking half a block, he stopped in front of an unassuming little church and pushed through the door without hesitation.

It was a very ordinary Protestant church. Without the cross on the roof, an outsider would have thought it was just a little roadside house.

Protestantism was good. It did not put much emphasis on rules, held that everyone made mistakes, and allowed believers to communicate directly with God and be forgiven through prayer. Clergy could also marry and have children.

The church's interior was exceedingly simple, too: a few rows of benches, a pulpit at the front, and Jesus nailed to a cross in the middle.

When Lin Rui barged in, a service was underway. An old pastor in his sixties stood at the front, leading seven or eight elderly men and women in prayer.

There was no choir, no magnificent sculpture or paintings, and no unnecessary decoration. It was simply a very plain gathering place.

With the prayers interrupted, the old pastor at the pulpit remained composed, as though he had seen it all before.

Seeing a young man run inside in a "panic," he was not surprised at all. Instead, he smiled, pointed to the seats below, and said, "Sit wherever you like, child. Wherever you like!"

Quite a few addicts had already begun following Lin Rui on his way there. Entering the church was like entering a sanctuary.

Only upon seeing the old pastor's familiar face did he calm down somewhat. Dragging his suitcase, he found a place to sit.

The worshippers merely glanced back and gave the unfamiliar young man, who was in such a "sorry state," friendly smiles. They did nothing else.

Essen Borg, the "saint" of the Fortieth Block.

Lin Rui had spent years drifting around New York and had met countless people. More than half were scum, and the rest had their own faults.

If there was anyone who was purely good, that unremarkable, ordinary old man at the church pulpit counted as one.

Since "charity" was a business, raising funds was a church's top priority if it wanted to survive. Territory and congregations mattered, too.

Most church personnel were "pixiu," taking things in but never letting anything out, spending their days figuring out how to solicit charitable donations in wealthy neighborhoods.

Essen Borg was a counterexample. The old pastor had voluntarily come to the run-down church in Forty Block, trying to reform and help the "lost lambs" who lived there.

If he were merely a nice old man, Lin Rui would not have braved enormous risks to come to this impoverished, crime-ridden dump.

But if the old pastor could establish himself in the Fortieth Block, continually find ways to raise donations, and hand out relief on the streets for twenty or thirty years, right up until his death...

Then it was a different matter.

At his lowest point, Lin Rui had received financial help from the old pastor. He had done charity volunteer work for four or five years and had even arranged the pastor's funeral after his death.

He had always wondered where the old pastor, who lived simply in a poor, chaotic neighborhood, obtained that endless stream of donations he spent like flowing water.

His annual "charitable relief" cost well over a hundred thousand dollars. That was no small sum.

Only on the day of the funeral, when one luxury car after another brought all manner of rich and powerful people to the cemetery, had that question been answered-the old pastor had once belonged to high society.

Not only him, but his family and friends as well. He was an outlier who had walked out of high society, not some oddity who had sprouted from the bottom.

Simply by organizing the old pastor's funeral, Lin Rui had gained more connections than half a lifetime of striving had brought him. Just a little slipping through the fingers of the wealthy funeral attendees had allowed him to rise into another class.

Unfortunately, before he could enjoy a happy second half of his life, he had been reborn.

Everything began again from zero.

The prayers continued for half an hour. The old pastor spoke about the Bible and delivered a sermon. Finally, everyone shared some crackers for communion, and the worshippers left one by one.

Once everything was finished, the old pastor came up to Lin Rui and asked with a kindly smile, "Child, is there anything I can help you with?"

Lin Rui moved his lips hesitantly and introduced himself with feigned awkwardness. "My name is Leon. I came from Country Z to study abroad, and I just got off the plane.

"But because of some awful circumstances, I fell out with my agency. I also lost my way on the subway and wandered into this neighborhood by accident.

"Things in this neighborhood seem a little off. It's completely different from the New York I imagined. I tried to find help, but the people on the street wanted to rob me.

"I saw a cross by the roadside, so I rushed in. Now I don't know what to do."

The story was simple, but the more the old pastor heard, the happier he became-was this not a lost lamb who had unwittingly received the Lord's calling?

Lin Rui had no tattoos. His skin was fair and clean, his clothes neat, and he had no shady past. He was well educated, spoke clearly, and behaved politely.

Although the boy came from Country Z, a child from a good family was welcome anywhere in the world-if the old pastor did not help Lin Rui, guilt would haunt him even as he slept at night.

His fifteen points of charisma worked wonders, too.

After checking Lin Rui's passport and plane ticket, the old pastor made arrangements without much further thought. "Child, you can stay here with me for now. I'll help you find a school to attend."

Lin Rui nodded in agreement.

A notification immediately rang out in his mind: "Demon hunter, you have found a demonic lair where evil gathers in the land of chaos, and within that lair, you have discovered a last remaining patch of pure land.

"You intend to settle in a sanctuary surrounded by evil. This proves your commendable courage, but you must be ready to fight evil at any moment.

"Now, the Quest System is activated!"