At dinner, Phil Gray told Wilder that the bishop had arranged to distribute white stones in the suburbs in two days, and he had to be there in person, which might take a day.
"Why go to the outskirts of the city? Can't we just go to the square?" A hint of doubt flashed in Wilder's eyes.
“There were also people distributing them in the square, mainly to the people in the slums of North City, where Bishop Dominic was in charge, while Bishop Wendell and I were going to the outskirts of the city.”
It takes about a morning to get from the main city to the outskirts. The area outside the city is mostly farmers, and Bishop Wendell said it would be quite tiring for them to come to the main city and then bring the white stone back, so he specifically set up a pick-up point in the outskirts. "To show my concern for them, it's better if I go there too," Phil Gray explained.
“Alright, I will go with you.” Wilder bowed.
Phil Gray didn't know what the winter temperatures were like here, but the autumn temperatures were already approaching those of winter in the northern temperate zone.
I imagine it will be even colder in winter.
But what is the purpose of this white stone? Is it similar to coal?
Two days passed quickly.
Phil Gray boarded the carriage early, driven by Luce Wilder, while Bishop Wendell was in another carriage. They were escorted by a dozen or so knights from the Order of Fate.
He occasionally lifted the curtain to look outside.
The streets of this world are very clean, with many shops along the way, and it looks quite prosperous. However, as you move further away from the main city, some dilapidated houses begin to appear.
Whenever he passed by, pedestrians on both sides would stop and praise the god of destiny and the greatness of the Papacy, and many would also praise him as the pope.
Phil Gray couldn't help but marvel at the treatment he had never received before.
Although he was curious, he couldn't keep lifting the curtain, as it would damage the Pope's dignity.
However, it was too boring in the carriage, but luckily I brought a book with me, "A Brief History of the Cult of Destiny".
Phil Gray seizes every opportunity and moment to learn about the world, knowing that although he is now the Pope, this identity makes it even harder for him to hide himself.
If discovered, being burned to death would be the best outcome.
Just after he finished reading about the glorious deeds of the previous popes, Luce Wilder reminded him that they had arrived.
He stepped down from the carriage and saw Bishop Wendell's still-kind smile. "Your Holiness, the procession carrying the white stones has already arrived and has begun distributing them."
“Okay.” Phil Gray walked over.
He saw that the priests had set up five or six tables, and behind them in the open space was a large pile of white stones. Was this the White Stone?
These white stones are not only very large, but there are also a great many of them, covering a distance of about ten meters.
He couldn't help but wonder how it was transported here, since there were no freight cars here, and he had never seen a large number of horse-drawn carriages transporting goods.
However, he dared not ask and could only suppress his curiosity.
There were many people who came to collect the gifts, forming a long queue that stretched as far as the eye could see. They included the old and the young, some dressed in rags, others carrying farm tools and baskets.
When they saw Phil Gray approaching, they knelt down in disarray, some even kowtowing repeatedly, weeping and thanking the Vatican and the Pope.
These are all believers of the God of Destiny, but whether they are or not is irrelevant. The Vatican doesn't care whether they believe in God because they want to receive something; it's just about demonstrating the Vatican's benevolence and mercy.
The gods are high in the heavens, while they live in the real world.
However, the current Pope from Earth has never seen such a scene before.
Phil Gray nearly lost his smile. He quickly told them to get up and sang praises to the god of fate, saying that the god was watching over them and that if they needed help, they could go directly to the Holy See.
Another round of praise and gratitude followed.
Phil Gray felt increasingly guilty.
He always said one thing but didn't really believe in the god of fate.
The wind was strong in the suburbs. After His Holiness the Pope personally distributed several white stones, Bishop Wendell had a tent set up and told Phil Gray to go and rest.
Phil Gray was still replaying the feel of the white stone in his mind—smooth, like a pebble, but unsure of its hardness.
Judging from the farmers who came to collect it, it was indeed intended for burning.
It seems that the white stone is the energy source of this world.
After entering the tent with Luce Wilder, Phil Gray sat down with some admiration. The tent was fully furnished with carpets, tables, and chairs, and there was some food on the table.
Phil Gray sat there until almost evening, just as he was about to go check if the distribution was finished, when he heard a woman crying outside. He could only vaguely make out that she was calling out, "...Your Holiness! Please let me see Your Holiness! Save my child!"
Luce Wilder went out to check and brought back a woman holding a child. She was disheveled and had been crying her eyes out.
She came in and knelt on the ground, pleading, "Your Holiness the Pope, please save my child."
Phil Gray gestured for Wilder to help her up and asked, "What's wrong with your child?"
"There's a curse on my family. Every week, red patches appear on the face of a family member, and they bleed to death that night. My husband is dead, my eldest son and daughter are dead, and I only have this youngest son left. Please, please save us!" the woman pleaded desperately.
"That terrible?" Phil Gray frowned, but he was a fake pope and had no idea how to deal with such a curse. Besides, it sounded like it might not be a curse at all, but some kind of infectious disease.
Have you seen a doctor?
Both the woman and Luce Wilder were taken aback. Luce Wilder realized what was happening and said to the woman, "His Holiness the Pope means to ask if you have consulted any priests of the Vatican or members of the Church of Life."
Phil Gray was a little embarrassed to discover that there were no doctors in the world, but thankfully Wilder was there.
"We've consulted our priests, but they said the curse is too strong and only the Pope can break it. Only you can change this child's fate. Please!" The woman began to kowtow repeatedly, and the child in her arms began to cry.
“Alright, alright, I’m willing to help you, but how exactly do I do it?” Phil Gray asked.
“All you need to do is stroke his forehead and sing the hymn of destiny,” the woman said.
A flicker of surprise crossed Phil Gray's eyes. What good could this possibly do?
Besides, he can't sing hymns, isn't this just making things difficult for him?
However, he still took the child from the woman's arms. The child did have some red spots on his face, but they didn't look serious.
What if it's an infectious disease? Phil Gray hesitated, and to be honest, he didn't really want to put his hand on it.
But before he could think any further, he saw the baby's face in his arms instantly turn ferocious, then transform into a gaping maw that quickly bit down on his neck!
"ah!"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com