Brando looked like he was about to cry from sheer joy. He grabbed Luke's hand with both of his and squeezed hard.
"Three conditions? Hell, make it three hundred! Mr. Luke, you're my goddamn savior!"
Lionel looked up from the mountain of food, cheeks stuffed, and mumbled through a mouthful of ham.
"So… we're heading to another haunted shithole? That nuclear test site—any radiation bullshit we gotta worry about?"
Brando thumped his chest like a proud recruit.
"Relax! That crap was seventy years ago. The radiation levels there are lower than a single CT scan at the hospital!"
With the potential headaches handled, Luke felt pretty damn good. He glanced at Lionel's miserable face and the ridiculous pile of food, then clapped the kid on the shoulder.
"Looks like your all-you-can-eat buffet ain't over yet, buddy. We roll out tomorrow morning, so you better finish every last bite tonight and stock up on energy."
He turned and headed for the door, Brando right on his heels.
"Mr. Luke, what else do you need? Holy water? Crosses? Maybe so serious firepower?"
Luke stopped, gave him a crooked grin, and said,
"Since this is an official FBI gig, the expense account better not be stingy. I already talked to so professionals about the real value of this stuff."
Money talk lit Brando up like a Christmas tree.
"Don't worry about a thing. I've been filing FBI expense reports for years. I'll list you as a special consultant. Hell, I could package a bottle of tap water as holy water personally blessed by the Pope himself and get it reimbursed."
"Good."
Luke nodded, genuinely impressed. This guy actually knew how to play the ga. In his book, any scientist who could squeeze real funding out of the governnt was the real deal.
"Tomorrow morning, right here. I'm heading back to the campground to get my shit together."
He climbed into his beat-up pickup and drove back toward Crystal Lake. If they were really heading into so nuclear graveyard tomorrow, he needed every edge he could get.
Luke pulled up the panel in his mind and checked his unfinished skills.
[Holy Water LV2 (1200/2000)]
[Holy Recitation LV2 (500/1000)]
[Voodoo LV1 (50/1000)]
After a few days of testing, he'd figured out how each one leveled. Voodoo needed spiritual materials or actual spellwork—stuff he didn't have lying around. Holy Recitation only gained XP by purifying evil spirits, and Crystal Lake was quiet as a grave right now. That left one obvious move.
Level up Holy Water. Simple. Brutal. And the results were imdiate.
He walked over to the truck, stared at the massive water tank he'd mounted in the bed, took a deep breath, and pressed both palms against the tal. Eyes closed, he pulled on the psionic energy in his head. Thanks to the old lady's lessons, he didn't even need to recite verses anymore.
A low hum vibrated through the tank. The clear water inside began changing right before his eyes.
[Holy Water XP 3]
[Holy Water XP 3]
[Holy Water XP 3]
…
The numbers climbed fast. By the ti the sky turned dark, the entire tank had been converted. The quality was better than ever thanks to his boosted psionic stat. A faint golden glow now shimred across the surface. If he left the lid off, the thing could probably pass for glow-in-the-dark paint.
Luke checked the panel.
[Holy Water LV2 (1900/2000)]
Just a little more. His psionic reserves were running on fus—head already starting to throb. Forcing it now would only give him a migraine from hell. Better to rest and finish later.
He headed back to camp, ate dinner with Ethel and the kids, and told them he was leaving in the morning. The news hit them hard. Ethel's voice carried a trace of sadness.
"Even though you keep dragging weird shit into our lives, these last few days have actually been… really nice."
"Yeah, Luke! The whole town feels livelier. I made over thirty bucks selling lemonade!"
"My mom said the neighbor's dog that used to chase finally got eaten by sothing. I don't gotta worry about it anymore."
Luke couldn't help laughing at their weird mix of complaints and goodbyes. After dinner he hauled out a few cases of mineral water for one last push—call it a parting gift for the kids who hadn't caused him too much trouble.
[Specialty: Holy Water LV3 (0/3000): Psionic Bonus 0.3]
[Specialty reached LV3. New ability unlocked: The Vain Holy Water]
[The Vain Holy Water: After extensive practice, you've learned the true nature of holy water. The more exaggerated the ritual and the more luxurious the container, the stronger the effect.]
[Psionic: 2.0 (1.9 0.1)]
Luke stared at the description, genuinely stunned.
The Vain Holy Water?
The flashier the ritual, the fancier the bottle, the more power it packed?
His mind flashed to Father Kenneth in his ridiculous gold-trimd robes, putting on a full theatrical performance in front of a crowd of true believers. The guy might not have had much real power or faith himself, but his flock was huge and devout. Maybe that over-the-top show actually worked.
Or at least had so weird theological basis.
Luke looked down at the plain plastic bottles in his hands, then at his own simple clothes, and felt his mouth twitch. Yeah… he probably needed to step up his presentation ga.
He dug around and found a fancy cut-glass liquor bottle Ethel had hidden in the corner—elegant, old-school, perfect. He peeled off the label, filled it with mineral water, and set it on the table like it was an altar piece.
Then he dropped to one knee, clasped his hands at his chest, closed his eyes, and put on the most sincere praying face he could manage. Psionic energy flowed in. The bottle suddenly blazed with blinding golden light, so bright he had to squint, before settling into a steady glow.
He picked it up, studying it with a complicated expression.
This thing actually packed a serious punch.
Luke spent the rest of the night testing every variable he could think of—prayer posture, tone of voice, how fancy the container was. He even tried humming a few movie hymns he half-rembered. The results were shockingly good.
By the ti he finally crashed, exhausted but satisfied, he had a small collection of dramatically upgraded holy water ready for single-target work. The Vain Holy Water was no joke.
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