Chapter 12 chapter Ten

Silas sat in the driver's seat of the black Audi that his mentor had arranged for him, looking out the window at the Saint-Sulpice Church.Several rows of floodlights shone from below, and the two bell towers of the church stood on the long body of the church like two mighty and tall sentinels.A row of smooth buttresses protruded from the shadows of each wing, like the ribs of a handsome breast. Pagans used God's sanctuary to hide their keystone.Their "brotherhood" reconfirmed that they were as deceitful as they were widely rumored to be.Silas looked forward to finding the keystone and giving it to the Mentor so they could rediscover what the Brotherhood had stolen from the faithful long ago.How powerful that would make Opus Dei!

Silas parked the Audi on the empty square of Saint-Sulpice Church, took a breath, and told himself to clear away distracting thoughts and concentrate on completing the task at hand.His broad back is still aching from the "corporal punishment" he endured earlier in the day, but that's nothing compared to what he suffered before he was rescued by the Catholic union. There are still lingering memories deep in his soul. Let go of your hatred, Silas commanded himself, and forgive those who offended you. Looking up at the stone tower of Saint-Sulpice, he was now fighting against the back wave, which pulled his thoughts back to the past, reminded him of the prison in which he had been imprisoned--he The world of youth.Painful memories always beat his mind like a storm... the stench of rotting cabbage, the stench of dead bodies, human urine and feces, the crying of hopelessness and the roaring winds of the Pyrenees, and being forgotten man sobbing.

Andorra, he remembered, feeling his muscles tense too. Silas was shivering in a stone cell all day, and the only thought was death.Incredibly, it was in this desolate, neglected Grand Duchy between Spain and France that Silas was saved. He didn't realize it at the time. The lightning came long after the thunder. His name wasn't Silas then, though he couldn't remember the name his parents had given him.His drunken father, a burly dock worker, was annoyed at the birth of his albino son and beat the mother regularly, complaining that she was putting him in a difficult situation.When he tried to protect her, he beat his son along with him.

One night, there was a fierce fight at home.The mother lay down forever.Standing next to his dead mother, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt rising because he felt he had failed to prevent this from happening. It's all my fault. It was as if there was a demon inside him controlling him.He went to the kitchen and picked up a meat cleaver, walked to the bedside of his father who was drunk and unconscious, and stabbed his father in the back without saying a word.His father screamed in pain and tried to turn and get out of bed, but the son stabbed him one after another until the room was silent.

The kid ran away from home, but found the streets of Marseille equally unfriendly.The other homeless kids put him aside because of his strange appearance.Forced to live in the dilapidated basement of a factory, he feeds on stolen fruit and raw fish stolen from the docks.His only companions were the tattered magazines he picked up from the trash.He taught himself to read these magazines.As time passed, he grew stronger and stronger.At the age of twelve, another homeless man, a twenty-four-year-old girl, teased him and tried to steal her food.As a result, the girl was almost beaten to death.The authorities pulled him away from the girl and gave him an ultimatum—leave Marseilles or go to a juvenile prison.

The child was transferred to the coastal city of Toulon.Over time, the pity on people's faces turned into fear.He had grown into a burly man.He could hear people whispering to each other as they passed him.ghost!They would say, and their eyes would open wide with horror as they looked at his pale skin.A ghost with demon eyes! And he himself felt like a ghost... a subtle ghost, wandering from port to port. People seem to see right through him. At the age of eighteen, in a port town, he was caught red-handed by two sailors who were stealing a crate of gammon from a cargo ship, and the two steaming sailors started beating him, just as his father had Same.Memories of fear and hatred emerge from the sea floor like sea monsters.The young man broke a sailor's neck with his bare hands.Thanks to the timely arrival of the police, the second seaman was spared a similar fate.

Two months later, he arrived in a prison in Andorra shackled by handcuffs.When the jailer pushed him, shivering and naked, into the cell, he and the prisoners in the cell told him, you are as white as a ghost.Look at this ghost!Maybe he can crawl through these walls! Twelve years had passed, and he finally realized that he was so conspicuous that his soul and body were about to wither. I am a ghost. I have no weight. I am a ghost...as bloodless as a ghost...to the world of the eastern sun. One night, the "ghost" was awakened by the screams of the prisoners in the same cell.He didn't know what invisible force was shaking the floor on which he slept, or what powerful hands were shaking the plasterboard of his stone cell, but when he stood up, a boulder fell just on him. The place where he slept.He looked up to see where the stone had fallen, and saw a hole in the trembling wall, and beyond it was something he hadn't seen in more than ten years—the moon.While the ground was still shaking, the Ghost squeezed his way out of a narrow tunnel, stumbled into the open, and rolled down the bare hillside into the forest.He had been running down all night, hungry and tired, and in a trance.

At dawn, just as he was about to lose consciousness, he found himself in a clearing beside the railway.He sleepwalked down the direction of the railroad tracks.He saw an empty freight car and climbed in to take shelter from the wind and rest.When he woke up, the train was running.How long has it been?How far have you traveled?His stomach started to hurt.will i dieHe jumped out of the van.Covered in blood, he walked to the edge of a small village, hoping to find something to eat, but he couldn't find it.Finally, too weak to take a step, he collapsed by the side of the road, unconscious.The light came on slowly, and the "ghost" wondered how long he had been dead.one day?three days?None of this matters.His bed was as soft as a cloud, and the air around him was sweetly scented with candles.Jesus is here, looking at him.I am with you, Jesus said.The stone has been rolled aside and you are reborn.

He woke up, slept, and slept.His consciousness was shrouded in a cloud of fog.He never believed in God, yet Jesus was always watching him from heaven.Food appeared next to him, and the "ghost" ate it, almost feeling the flesh growing on the bones.He fell asleep again.When he woke up again, Jesus was still smiling and looking at him, talking to him.Son, you are saved.Bless those who follow me.He fell asleep again. It was a scream of pain that woke the "ghost" from his deep sleep.He jumped out of bed and staggered down the hallway to where the shouting had come from.Went into the kitchen and found a big man beating a small man. The "ghost" grabbed the big man indiscriminately and pushed him back hard against the wall.The man fled, leaving the "ghost" standing next to the body of the young man in a priest's attire.The priest's nose was badly wounded. The "ghost" picked up the bloody priest and put him on a couch.

"Thank you, friend," said the pastor in broken French. "Saturday donations are very attractive to thieves. You speak French in your sleep. Do you also speak Spanish?" "Ghost" shook his head. "What's your name?" he continued in broken French. "Ghost" can't remember the name his parents gave him.All he heard were the jeers of the jailer. The pastor smiled. "Don't worry. My name is Manuel Aringarosa. I'm a missionary from Madrid. I was sent here to build a church for Obrad Dios." "Where am I?" he asked in a low voice.

"Ovenid. In the south of Spain." "How did I get here?" "Someone left you at my door. You were sick and I fed you. You've been here for days." "Ghost" carefully looked at the young man who took care of him.It had been years since anyone had cared for him like this. "Thank you, Father." The pastor touched his bloody mouth. "I'm the one to thank, my friend." When the "ghost" woke up the next day, his world became much clearer.He gazed at the crucifix on the wall above the bed, and although the crucifix was silent, its presence comforted him.He sat up and was surprised to find a newspaper clipping on the bedside table.It was a newspaper from a week ago, and the article was written in French.He read the story and was terrified to death.It tells how an earthquake in the mountains destroyed the prison and many dangerous prisoners escaped. His heart was pounding.The pastor knows who I am!He had a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.shame.Guilty.Shame, guilt and the fear of getting caught accompanied him.He jumped out of bed.Where am I fleeing to? "Acts," came a voice from the door. The "ghost" turned around, terrified. The young pastor came in smiling.His nose was badly bandaged.He was holding an old Bible in his hand. "I found a French edition for you. That chapter is marked." The "ghost" picked up the "Bible" suspiciously, and began to look for the chapter marked by the pastor. Chapter 16. This chapter tells the story of a prisoner named Silas lying in his cell singing hymns to God after being stripped naked and beaten.When the "ghost" read the 26th sentence, he gasped in surprise. "...Suddenly there was a big earthquake, the foundation of the prison was shaken, and the prison doors were fully opened immediately." He glanced up at the pastor. The pastor smiled mildly. "My friend, from now on, if you have no other name, I will call you Silas." "Ghost" nodded blankly.Silas.He has a body.My name is Silas. "It's time for breakfast," said the vicar, "and you'll get my strength back if you help me build the church." At 2,000 feet above the Mediterranean Sea, Alitalia Flight 1618 was bouncing up and down due to turbulence.The passengers were shaking nervously.But Bishop Aringarosa paid little attention to it.He was always thinking about the future of Opus Dei.He was very curious to know how the plans for Paris were progressing.He wanted so badly to call Silas.But he couldn't because the Guru was in charge of that. "This is for your safety," the tutor explained in English with a French accent. "I know electronic communication devices well, and I know they can be intercepted, and the results can be disastrous for you." Aringarosa knew the mentor was right.Mentor seems to be an extremely cautious person.He did not reveal his identity to Aringarosa, but his orders proved worthwhile.In any case, it was he who had obtained this secret information.The four upper echelons of the Brotherhood.This move was just one of many neatly executed and beautiful moves by the Mentor.This convinced the Bishop that the Master was indeed in possession of the astonishing booty he claimed to have found. The mentor had told him, "Bishop, I have everything in place. In order for my plan to succeed, you must allow Silas to be in contact with me only for a few days at my disposal. You two are not allowed to talk. Get in touch with him." "Will you respect him and treat him well?" "A man of integrity deserves the highest respect." "Great, I see. Silas and I won't talk to each other until this operation is over." "I did this to cover your identity, Silas's, and my investment." "Your investment?" "Bishop, if you're in jail for being too eager to keep up with what's going on, then you can't pay me." The bishop laughed. "Exactly. Our wishes are the same. May we succeed." Twenty million euros.The bishop looked out the window, thinking.This amount is about the same as the dollar amount. The drive to make some money is so strong. Once again he was sure that the Mentor and Silas would not fail.Money and faith are powerful motivators.