My Crazy Journey with My Summons

Muttering the name the Confucius statue had just mentioned, Rango moved swiftly through the second floor's Historical Figures Exhibition, carefully scanning the displays.

"Gab… Gabriel Amos? That's you?"

He squinted at the nameplate and then looked at the man inside the glass case.

Behind the display glass stood a round-faced old man in a black cassock trimmed with a purple stole. Though his face was deeply lined with wrinkles, his eyes were sharp and penetrating, like stars in the night sky.

After his earlier chat with the Confucius statue, Rango took the time to carefully read the engraved biography on the bronze plaque.

"Chief Exorcist of the Vatican… over sixty years of service… personally conducted more than 160,000 exorcisms?!"

Rango couldn't help but be stunned. If that record was accurate, then this Amos had performed multiple exorcisms every single day of his life. What kind of walking ghost magnet was this guy?

Inside the case, Father Amos also studied the young man curiously. Seeing Rango silently reading his plaque over and over again while shining a flashlight in his face, he finally lost his patience and snapped:

"If you've got something to say, spit it out. If not, quit bothering me while I'm meditating!"

Rango cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled politely. "Hello, Father Amos. I'm Rango Winchester, the night shift security guard here at the museum. I came to see you because, "

"Wait a second!"

Before he could finish, the old man abruptly cut him off. His eyes narrowed as he looked Rango up and down. "What did you just say your last name was? Winchester?"

"Uh… is that a problem?" Rango frowned slightly.

"No, no," Amos quickly waved it off, but his eyes gleamed with sudden interest. "Go on. I'm listening."

Rango wrinkled his nose, slightly annoyed, but continued. "I recently bought a house, and unfortunately, I've discovered it's haunted. I've personally seen at least three ghosts. So I was hoping you might have some advice on how to deal with them."

Hearing that, Amos gently touched the crucifix on his chest and solemnly asked, "Are they evil spirits or demons? Has anyone been possessed? Have they shown signs of supernatural abilities? Fire control? Teleportation? Flight? Telekinesis?"

"No, nothing like that," Rango quickly clarified. "So far, all I've seen is some low-grade illusion tricks. They're probably just earthbound spirits."

"Earthbound spirits?!"

Amos scoffed and dramatically flicked his sleeve. "You're bothering me over weaklings that don't even qualify as evil spirits? Get lost!"

Rango's irritation surged. "You think I want to ask for help? If those cowards didn't hide every time they saw me, I'd have already kicked them back to hell!"

With that, he turned to leave, planning to consult some other figures instead. If this old priest didn't want to help, he'd find someone who would.

"Wait!" Amos called out. "Did you just say… you can't see them once they hide?"

"What else would I mean?" Rango snapped, glancing back. "I'm not exactly packing supernatural X-ray vision. Once they vanish, they're gone. I've got no way of tracking them."

Amos didn't know what this "X-ray vision" was, but the moment he realized Rango couldn't see hidden spirits, he burst out laughing.

"To think a descendant of the Winchester family can't even deal with a bunch of earthbound ghosts, ha! What a joke!"

He laughed for a while, then tilted his head and asked in a teasing tone, "Don't tell me that old fart Anderson forgot to anoint your eyes with holy water when you were born?"

Rango stopped dead in his tracks.

He spun around sharply, his gaze cold and focused. "You knew my grandfather?"

Amos grinned knowingly. "Looks like you don't know a damn thing about your own bloodline."

Rango was momentarily stunned.

The truth was, even though he'd been reincarnated into this world as a baby, after more than a decade of growing up, he'd started to notice that his family wasn't exactly ordinary.

For one, the surname Winchester. In all his years living in the U.S., he had never met another person with the same last name. That was extremely rare in America.

Then there was his grandfather. Rango vividly remembered that after the old man died during his childhood, a bunch of strange clergy types would show up every year on the anniversary to offer mysterious rites or pay respects.

And of course, there were his parents.

They'd vanished under mysterious circumstances when he was still very young. All he knew was that they traveled constantly for work, always disappearing for long stretches at a time. He had no clue what they actually did for a living.

Every time Rango asked where his parents were off to, his mother would simply stroke his hair gently and say, "We're going where we're needed."

With all the religious artifacts that constantly showed up around the house, Rango had long suspected that he was born into an exorcist family.

Off-topic but worth mentioning: he also had an uncle and two cousins. When they were young, they used to play together often, but after his aunt passed away, they rarely saw each other anymore.

"I really hate people who talk in riddles."

Glaring at Father Amos behind the glass, who was now acting all cryptic, Rango pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and said casually, "Tell me everything you know about my family. If you don't…"

"If I don't what?" Amos asked with a curious smirk.

"I'll grind you into dust and flush you down the women's bathroom."

"…What the, "

Amos choked on the F-bomb he was about to drop, scowling at the young man in front of him, who stood there calmly, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Do you even know who I am? I was the Vatican's chief exorcist! I sent countless demons screaming back to hell! You, "

"And now, you're just a plastic model with Amos's name, stuck with his memories but none of his power," Rango cut him off coldly. "Even if I smashed you into bits, all I'd get is a fine. But you? You'd spend eternity at the bottom of a toilet tank."

Seeing Amos's expression darken further, Rango shifted his tone, smiling faintly. "But hey, no need to take it that far. You tell me what I need to know, and I'll let you out for fresh air now and then. How's that? Pretty generous deal if you ask me."

Amos fell silent for a moment, his expression flickering between pride and uncertainty. After some hesitation, he muttered, "You'd really let me out?"

"Why not?"

Rango shrugged, opened the glass case with a click, and extended a hand like a gracious host. "Be my guest. We've got the whole night."

Seeing the genuine look on Rango's face, Amos sighed deeply and reached forward. "Got another cigarette? Gimme one."

…

A while later, Rango interrupted Amos's long, rambling tale. "So what you're saying is… my grandfather used to be your assistant?"

"I prefer to say we were partners," Amos replied, a nostalgic light in his eyes. "Every time we performed an exorcism, it was Anderson who pinned the thing down while I chanted the rites. Without him, I'd never have pulled off half the number I did."

Rango nodded slowly, then pressed on. "So after he left the Church to get married and have kids, you two fell out?"

"There's no such thing as 'retiring' from the priesthood," Amos corrected sharply. "Your grandfather was corrupted, seduced by a demon!"

Rango raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He shifted the topic. "What about my parents? Did the Vatican ever figure out where they went?"

"How should I know? I died before your parents disappeared." Amos shook his head, but after a moment of thought, his tone changed. "Still… from what you described, burn marks on the wall, strong sulfuric stench, it sounds like the work of a Yellow-Eyed Demon."

"Yellow-Eyed Demon?!"

Rango shot to his feet, a shadow flickering across his face. "How do I find it?!"

Amos slowly shook his head. "Demons don't get tracked down. They come to you. Besides… you can't even handle a few earthbound ghosts, and you want to go toe-to-toe with a Yellow-Eyed Demon?"

Rango went quiet.

The old man wasn't wrong. Even though he had the power to harm spirits, he lacked the means to find or see them if they didn't manifest. And if those were just minor ghosts… what chance did he have against a true demon?

Seeing the young man deep in thought, Amos didn't offer comforting words. He just smoked leisurely.

Still, through their short exchange, Amos had developed a solid appreciation for this defiant kid. No fear in the face of spirits, and not an ounce of hesitation upon hearing that a demon might've been behind his parents' disappearance. Instead, the boy was ready to fight back.

And that surname, Winchester.

Yeah, this kid was born to be an exorcist.

Snuffing out his cigarette, Amos spoke in a quieter, more sincere tone. "Don't worry, kid. For your grandfather's sake, I'll tell you something for free."

He leaned in close and whispered:

"Back when your grandfather and I were working exorcisms all across North America, we left behind quite a few useful little treasures."

…

The next day.

Boston. South End.

Outside the Holy Cross Cathedral, Rango ignored Ted's frantic protests and shoved both him and Megan back into the car, instructing them firmly not to step out.

He was heading straight into the heart of Catholic territory in Boston. Who knew if some overly zealous priest might take one look at Ted and try to exorcise him on the spot?

Looking up at the towering Gothic structure in front of him, Rango recalled the location Father Amos had described the night before. He pulled his cap low and blended into the crowd of tourists as he approached the church.

Like most religious landmarks around the world, this cathedral, despite being the central hub of Catholicism in Boston, had long since become a glorified tourist attraction. Admission was free, of course.

Slipping past two uniformed guards at the entrance, Rango stepped into the grand interior of the church. The vaulted ceilings and wide central nave immediately caught his eye. All around were octagonal columns, supporting sweeping ribbed arches with pointed tips, classic Gothic architecture.

He stood with the crowd in front of a religious oil painting, outwardly admiring the artwork, while his eyes subtly scanned the entrance to the side chapel.

Seeing that there were no guards or clergy nearby, he casually pulled a brochure off the wall and, pretending to study it, slowly moved toward the side area.

This part of the church was reserved for actual worshipers. Other than the confessional booths often seen in movies, there were only rows of pews.

Recalling the directions Amos had given him, Rango kept walking, mentally marking the layout.

Once he stepped through the side chapel and into the courtyard, a grin spread across his face.

Just ahead stood a tall poplar tree, at least ten meters high, its trunk densely inscribed with lines from the Bible. It stood proudly in the center of the courtyard, his true objective.

Glancing around and confirming no one was nearby, Rango strode toward the tree. But just as he was about to act, a burst of loud, off-key singing shattered the silence.

A choir.

Of course.

"F***," he muttered under his breath.

Cursing his bad luck, he kept his cool and walked openly up to the tree, arms folded like a casual onlooker admiring the carvings.

According to Amos, decades ago, there had been a possession incident right here at this very cathedral. The demon's name was Samigiela, a major heavyweight, one of the seventy-two demons from Solomon's Goetia, known for his mastery of resurrection.

A corrupted priest within the cathedral had secretly summoned him via a dark ritual.

That night had been pure chaos. Dozens died. Coincidentally, Amos and his grandfather, Anderson Winchester, had been attending an event at Trinity Church just a few blocks away.

They had rushed over the moment they got the news, and after an intense battle, managed to seal the demon inside the very tree Rango was now standing before. They'd etched Bible verses all over the bark in hopes of keeping the entity eternally suppressed through divine power.

Rango, however, wasn't here for the demon. He didn't really care if the damn thing was still trapped.

What he was interested in… were the weapons.

Amos had told him that after sealing Samigiela, he and Anderson had buried their personal exorcism tools beneath the tree, just in case the demon ever broke free again and someone needed to act fast.

Judging by the current state of things, though…

Rango looked around. There was no fence around the tree. Not even a warning sign.

Clearly, the priests and bishops who came later had completely forgotten what had happened here.

He sighed and glanced back toward the choir. Those robed lunatics were still happily belting out hymns. One even noticed him looking and waved enthusiastically, inviting him to join.

Rango frowned slightly and started calculating how to get rid of them.

Then, as if heaven had answered his prayers, a sudden CRASH CRASH CRASH echoed from outside the cathedral, the unmistakable sound of multiple cars slamming into each other.

The choir stopped mid-verse, startled. Instruments lowered, heads turned. Within seconds, the entire group was rushing toward the doors to see what had happened.

"Bless you, Ted," Rango muttered, seizing the moment.

He rushed up to the poplar, knelt by the roots, and pulled a mini shovel from his pocket. Then, working fast, he began to dig at the base of the tree, right where Amos had said the goods were hidden.

He was fully focused when his phone suddenly rang.

He answered, pinching it between his shoulder and ear while continuing to dig. "Ted?"

"Rango…" Ted sounded nervous. "So Megan and I were just heading to Burger King to grab some food for when you got back, but uh, while driving, I may have… sort of… accidentally caused a minor chain-reaction crash in the parking lot. I swear it wasn't on purpose! Also… you should probably bring a checkbook."

"You did amazing. I'll be right there."

"Wait, wha—?"

Rango hung up before Ted could say more, eyes sparkling as he stared into the pit he'd just uncovered.

Inside, nestled in the dirt, was a wooden box. About a foot wide.

The top was just starting to show.

===

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