In order for it to work, Mark also needs to find a senior appraiser, an appraiser who can keep his secret.

He didn't want the appraiser to report him to the Church of Holy Light after discovering his pagan identity after appraising the equipment.

After calming down his excitement, Mark stuffed the cross necklace back into his arms, then leaned against the side of the tree hole and fell into a deep sleep.

It was not until the next day when the morning prayer bells of St. John's Cathedral rang again that Mark crawled out of the tree hole, put on his black monk's robe, and hurried back to his old church along the country dirt road.

When he returned to his dilapidated church with gray and white mottled walls on the west side of the town, he saw the old nun Irene holding a broom to drive away the crows gathered around the cemetery on the side of the church.

"Hey, Aunt Irene, is there any breakfast left?" Mark asked in a familiar tone.

Irene looked at Mark expressionlessly, as if asking Mark, as a church owner, how dare you ask for breakfast from a nun who hasn't received her salary for half a year?

"Uh, haha, just forget I said anything!"

Mark turned around decisively and headed for his residence in the backyard of the church. He would not be as shameless as the original owner, little Mark, who hugged the old nun's thighs and begged the nun to share some of his breakfast with him, and even said shamelessly that this was what Irene should do to offset the rent.

After all, Mark knew that if Irene hadn't been there, with little Mark's business level, he would have starved to death in the church cemetery long ago.

Just as Mark was about to walk into the backyard along the corridor, Irene suddenly called out:

"Breakfast is in the confessional. Father Miller from St. John's Church is waiting for you in the chapel. He said he won't leave until he sees you."