Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 257 A Special Midnight Ceremony

"That fucking perverted monster."

Listening to the news broadcast on the radio, the taxi driver immediately started cursing without even looking back: "First the stock market crashed, then the price of eggs went up, and now what the hell is going to happen?"

Lester, sitting in the back seat, paid no attention to his complaints. He was listening to the news on the radio when he reached out in horror and covered his head with his hands.

"Namos Namos!"

He couldn't help but grab Constantine's arm, trembling as he asked, "That Moses is here, isn't he? I'm so scared, John, I'm so scared."

Constantine sat expressionlessly beside him, too lazy to explain any further—Leicester's mouth hadn't stopped ever since the group took off from Heathrow in London, England.

If the other person weren't his friend, Constantine would have really wanted to yell at him, "Shut up, you incessant chatterbox!"

Having endured this long, Constantine was extremely agitated. He desperately wanted to pull out his gun and shoot Lester dead—at least imagining it helped him calm down.

"John, does Midnight Daddy have any powder? I really need that stuff."

Ma Zhaodi sighed and put his hat back on Lester's head: "Lester, control yourself. With me here, there's no way I'll allow you to inhale even a milligram of powder again."

Meanwhile, the radio broadcasts had turned into debates between medical professionals and theologians.

"The victim exhibited an intense urge to devour the object he was obsessed with, which may be a behavioral disorder caused by a viral infection."

"Nonsense! This is our Lord's divine punishment of sinners, a warning to the world, and a sign of the coming of justice!"

"Dr. Arnold, Father Bansrener, with all due respect, you must hear this new news—a thirty-year-old man in the Bronx choked to death with his collection of rare comic books."

“Very good,” Constantine thought to himself. “People can choose sides based on their positions, but at the same time, who would have thought that neither side has anything to do with the truth?”

At this very moment, in a high-rise building in New York City, whispers from hell are softly echoing.

The room is filled with lush green vegetation. In the huge space of over a thousand square meters, palm trees, bromeliads, maidenhair ferns, banyan trees and many other plants found in rainforests grow together. Occasionally, various small animals can be seen crawling among the plants. This makes it look less like an ordinary man-made greenhouse and more like a miniature indoor ecosystem.

The owner of this room must be incredibly wealthy—to do this in a high-rise building made of reinforced concrete must have cost a fortune.

As the setting sun shone through the glass exterior wall into the room, bathing everything inside in a golden light, a burly man in a suit suddenly emerged from the lush vegetation.

He picked up a human skull from an altar, which looked somewhat eerie in the golden light.

"Can you feel it?" he asked the skull. "That dangerous smell in the air—come on, sister, take a break from the pleasures of hell and give me some advice."

As he spoke, he held up the skull and walked to the huge glass curtain wall. This greenhouse was located on the top floor of the building, and from here, one could see the brightly lit New York City and the entire sky.

"Look, something is moving in the jungle outside—can your dead eyes see its face? Can your dead mouth utter its name?"

The whispers from hell were like a dream, inaudible to ordinary people. The murmurs from another dimension quietly crept into the man's ears—he didn't get the answer he wanted. "You don't recognize it?" the man asked the skull. "Sister, I thought you were involved with every demon in hell."

The demon gave a silent answer once again.

"I see. Since it didn't come down from heaven or earth, it must be a newly born evil spirit from the human world. It is so thirsty that calling it a 'hungry spirit' is quite fitting."

"And now, we have to make sure it eats somewhere else."

The man placed the skull back on the altar and pressed the intercom button beside him: "Servant, go and fetch me a white rooster."

Strange noises, like "uh-uh" and "ah-ah," came from the speaker, and after a moment, the other side fell silent again.

At that very moment, Ma Zhaodi and Constantine led Lester into the building.

"Is this where Old Man Midnight lives?" Ma Zhaodi asked. "It looks quite impressive."

“What, does his African identity give you some kind of illusion?” Constantine lit a cigarette. “Although this guy is a voodoo believer, so he’s a bit bloodthirsty, and he is indeed a creepy guy—but there’s no doubt that he’s very rich, extremely rich, and he’s used his money to collect a lot of good stuff in the industry.”

He concluded, "Midnight Dad may not be able to control everything, but he can definitely stir up trouble in the industry."

Ma Zhaodi immediately understood. It seemed that Midnight Daddy in this universe had maintained his "weapon master" persona, just like in the movie, and possessed a number of sacred artifacts and magical weapons. Although he might not have many top-tier items, he probably had quite a few mid-tier magical artifacts.

The three wandered around the ground floor of the building for a while before finally spotting a fireproof safety door. Constantine stepped forward first and pushed the door open, immediately releasing an unbearable, pungent stench from the crack.

"Jesus, what the hell is this smell? It stinks worse than the zoo!"

Ma Zhaodi's senses were quite acute; he could not only smell the stench inside the door, but also hear the crowing of chickens from deeper inside, as well as the heavy footsteps of a burly man.

"Be careful," he cautioned. "We don't know what's inside."

"It's nothing more than the same old tricks we use at midnight," Constantine replied nonchalantly, striding inside. "Is anyone there? Sorry to bother you—"

His voice abruptly stopped, and Ma Zhaodi quickly pulled Lester to catch up, his other hand already gripping his gun to prevent a conflict.

As they approached Constantine, a cluster of chicken coops came into view, with white-feathered chickens confined inside, clucking noisily. A burly, dark-skinned man, completely naked except for a loincloth, was holding a chicken coop in one hand, turning his head to stare at the uninvited guests who had suddenly barged in. His eyes were somewhat vacant, and he seemed rather dim-witted.

"Uh-huh."

"Um...excuse me?"

"Uh ah ah!"

Upon hearing Constantine's cautious greeting, the burly man immediately unleashed a deafening roar at the group in front of him.

(End of this chapter)