Trafford's Trading Club

At night.

St. Basil’s Cathedral.

The colorful castle-like church with several onion-like tops did not allow visitors to walk in.

Anatoly had finished the lesson of today’s prayers. He turned round and then saw the Bishop Peter in a white robe.

Anatoly hastened to Bishop Peter, and said respectfully, "Bishop, did you find me for something?"

"Anatoly, come with me," said Bishop Peter softly.

Anatoly, immediately nodded and followed the Bishop without hesitation. He found he was going somewhere forbidden to enter in ordinary.

Moreover, he could feel the divine power becoming more and more intense. Only a clergyman with an incomparably devout faith could feel this power after a special penance.

As for using it, that was more difficult. Anatoly belonged to the most excellent Eastern Orthodoxy members of this generation. After graduating from the monastery, he was assigned to practice in the church.

Although he had owned the qualifications of a priest, which meant a formal priesthood in the Eastern Orthodoxy view; in the true church, he was just a fledgling.

"Bishop Peter, where is this...." Anatoly asked with doubt.

But the bishop in front didn’t say anything, but opened a door at the end of the corridor---here was actually a chapel.

The statue of the Father was in front. Anatoly found that a man had been there. He was also wearing a priest’s garb.

Bishop Peter looked at Anatoly and whispered, "Go ahead! Relax, but be in awe."

Anatoly viewed a rare solemn look on the Bishop’s face, which puzzled him, but he could only follow the Bishop’s words.

Upon entering the chapel inside the church, Anatoly found that the Bishop had closed the door--- he didn’t follow.

After a deep breath, Anatoly came behind the priest.

All of a sudden, he felt an unprecedented strong divine power from the priest which was as deep as the sea.

The God’s holiness was like the sea.

This sentence, somehow, suddenly came to Anatoly’s mind so that he instinctively bowed his head and forgot what he had intended to say.

"Raise your head."

At last the strange priest seemed to turn around. Anatoly raised his head with an air of surprise.

He had seen the priest who was the most common clergyman opened to the public by church to receive tourists.

How can he...?

"Are you Anatoly? Peter said that you are the youngest priest graduated from monastery in recent years."

"Yes," Anatoly nodded, not daring to make a mistake. But he seemed extremely calm, and didn’t seem to panic because of the vastly divine power.

"My name is Sullivan."

"Hello, Mr. Sullivan."

Sullivan smiled. In his eyes there was some admiration, looked like he was satisfied with Anatoly. But he suddenly said, "Did you feel it two days ago?"

Anatoly nodded. "There was a stream of pure faith fluctuating, but it soon disappeared. I have never felt such a pure soul."

"Do you know what that means?" Sullivan asked suddenly.

Anatoly shook his head

Sullivan solemnly said, "The soul that suddenly emerged represents the one who will become Heaven’s saint in the future."

Anatoly gave out an astonished look, his face turned a little serious... Because he knew what Heaven’s saint mean.

Sullivan went on saying, "Did you know you are originally in charge of monitoring this soul?"

Anatoly opened his mouth, subconsciously frowning, "Sir, I don’t know what’s the meaning of monitoring."

"Close your eyes," Sullivan said quietly, "I’ll remind you of what you’ve forgotten."

Anatoly didn’t obey at once. He looked at this common priest, who was only responsible for entertaining the tourists....instantly, he closed his eyes slowly.

’Something I forgot?’ He was still wondering.

But anyway, he was curious indeed.

Sullivan stretched out hands and fingered on Anatoly’s forehead--- meanwhile, he closed eyes, and some hazy splendor began to release from his body.

White and serene.

"God is above..."

He began to speak some old language. Anatoly found that even though he had studied this ancient language when he was free in the monastery, but he still couldn’t translate it completely. Furthermore, he couldn’t understand what Sullivan said next.

He just felt a more majestic divine power flowing slowly into his body like water. This power seemed to be mingling with his.

Little by little, Anatoly’s mind was filled with a hazy scene.

He couldn’t see the scene clearly... Someone seemed to speak at his ear, but he could see half a hazy face and a mouth that seemed to be saying something without sound.

All of a sudden, Anatoly opened his eyes, feeling stabbing pain in his head.

His body stepped back subconsciously, looking at Mr. Sullivan who was just looking at him curiously.

Anatoly didn’t feel like he had remembered anything. Even though the picture emerging in his mind was gradually disappearing.

"Sir, I still can’t remember anything." Anatoly said slowly with a doubtful sight

The guy had shown a sea-like holiness... Was just a delusion?

It was awkward.

"I got it"

Sullivan nodded and turned around slowly, looking up at the statue of the Father without speaking. He was still showing the sea-like holiness appearance.

But he was....He was really embarrassed.

At the same time, he also feared .

...

...

"Get out of the way! Move! Move! "

The paramedics dressing in hospital uniforms carried stretchers and rushed across the crowd, shouting, "Where’s the injured person?"

But when they got there, they just saw a pool of blood still attach to the wall but nobody was there, "Where is the injured? Didn’t someone said that a person was injured by a gunshot?"

"The man was here just now, but...he disappeared in a twinkling."

The supervisor that came out from the ambulance frowned, saying angrily, "Are you telling me a man who has been shot down and bled massively can disappear in a twinkling? Is he actually a magician?"

"But..."

"Shut up! This is a prank! Who called the ambulance just now!!"

Anyway, it seemed to be more disordered now in front of the platform.

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