Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 258 Isn't it reasonable to use Hypno-shrooms to deal with zombies?

The enraged giant roared and swung his fist at the group. His terrifying size gave him terrifying strength. Ma Zhaodi knew that the fist, which was the size of a sandbag, was not something a normal person could withstand, so he quickly pulled his two teammates away.

boom!
The fat man's fist landed on the wall next to him, and just as Ma Zhaodi had guessed, the fist was terrifying, directly punching through the wall.

Ma Zhaodi couldn't help but ask loudly, "Are these the same moves we often use at midnight?!"

Constantine shrugged. "That's right, but don't worry, I have a way to deal with it."

boom!
Another loud bang, the fat black man pulled out his fist, almost knocking down half a wall, and Ma Zhaodi, seeing that things were not going well, directly pulled out a shimmering seven-colored mushroom from his pocket.

Enchanting Mushrooms (with planting rights and sunshine purchase rights)

Price: $50,000 in assets
Note: Zombies are our friends; they are severely misunderstood. Zombies play an important role in our ecosystem. We can and should work harder to teach them to think like us—by Enchanting Mushroom

Ma Zhaodi could have simply drawn his gun or put on the Beast Ring and gauntlets to break the other man's bones, but considering Constantine's statement that the fat black man was on Midnight Daddy's side, he ultimately chose a less harmful and seemingly more dignified approach.

"Go away!"

Seeing the fat, dark-skinned man roar and charge forward again, Ma Zhaodi simply raised his hand and threw the Enchanting Mushroom. It transformed into a streak of seven-colored light, striking the man squarely in the mouth. In no time, the magical mushroom "melted instantly" in his mouth, sliding down his throat and into his stomach.

"Uh uh uh"

As soon as he finished the mushroom, Constantine noticed that the previously menacing, fat man looked blank. He glanced around, then stood silently in place, no longer moving.

“I was just about to say I had a way to deal with him,” Constantine lit another cigarette. “And then you took care of him—and what was that mushroom anyway?”

“These hallucinogenic mushrooms can make enemies hallucinate and mistake us for friends, and the effect lasts for an hour,” Ma Zhaodi explained. “They’re still not magic, and they can only be used on opponents who aren’t very bright. But thankfully, this fat black guy is just as I thought; he’s definitely not very smart.”

"That's the problem with zombie laborers. It's not so much that they're not smart, but that they're brainless. But you don't really need to feed them any mushrooms. Just scold them harshly, and they'll obey."

"Is this a zombie?"

“Yeah.” Constantine shrugged. “It’s a type of zombie unique to Voodoo. They call it a ‘resurrected corpse.’ I don’t know the specifics of how it’s done. Midnight never talks about it. It’s probably a secret of their Voodoo Cult—I heard they use something like pufferfish to cast spells. Anyway, the end result is turning a living person into a resurrected corpse.”

"Then I definitely didn't pick the wrong mushroom."

"In short, this thing works very well, is loyal, fearless, strong in combat, easy to control, and never slacks off when it works—it has virtually no drawbacks except for being afraid of being scolded."

"Fortunately, this thing can't be widely adopted," Ma Zhaodi commented. "Otherwise, American capitalists probably would never hire human workers again."

While the two were talking, a rough male voice suddenly came from the communicator next to them.

"Idiot, why haven't you taken the rooster upstairs yet? Have you forgotten how to use the elevator again?"

Upon hearing the curses, the zombie indeed showed obvious fear, cowering and lying on the ground.

Constantine chuckled upon hearing the voice, "Heh heh, that's his master's voice." He then casually picked up a white rooster from the ground and handed it to the distracted Lester, hoping to calm him down. "Come on, let's go see this old friend."

A moment later, inside the greenhouse.

Ding--

The electronic door emitted a crisp beep, and the zombie laborer finally brought in the white rooster.

“The time has come.” Midnight had already changed his clothes and was holding a golden staff carved in the style of a primitive tribe. He impatiently scolded the man behind him, “Dead man, I’m warning you, if you don’t do things properly, I’ll bury you back in the ground—and then no one will remember you.”

However, it wasn't zombies that came up.

"Midnight Dad, do you remember me?"

A familiar voice drifted over along with the smell of smoke. Midnight turned her head in surprise and saw the blond hoodlum in the yellow trench coat smiling at her.

"Constantine?!"

“Oh my, what a beautiful forest, isn’t it? It reminds me of the Royal Botanic Gardens—” Constantine grinned as he made his way through the woods to Midnight’s side. “I hope you don’t mind if we come straight up. Your watchdog barked a few times, but he’s quiet now; after all, he’s a lamb at heart.”

Ma Zhaodi caught up and finally saw the sorcerer known as Midnight Father, and witnessed his primitive and peculiar attire—he wore a white top hat, his bare upper body was not covered by any undergarment, but was directly covered by a white tailcoat, and his lower body was also covered by only a grass skirt, revealing his thick black thighs.

An elegant suit couldn't completely conceal the Haitian wizard's imposing physique; the white suit contrasted sharply with his dark skin. Midnight Papa possessed an innate, primal wildness, and even though he was adept at navigating American social norms and thrived in New York City, this wildness always made him seem out of place in this land.

When Constantine arrived, Midnight Father's already dark complexion darkened even further. Seeing him raise the golden staff in his hand, Ma Zhaodi even guessed that he might not be able to resist using that staff to give Constantine a good beating the next second.

"The view from here is beautiful, isn't it—oh, my friend brought your chicken up with him, you're welcome."

At this point, Constantine's gaze swept over the altar displaying the skulls: "I guess you're about to cast some minor spell?"

“Constantine,” Midnight said coldly, “what do you want?”

"I need your help."

So, in a fit of rage, he burst into laughter at midnight.

"You cheated out of my $50,000, and now you want me to help you out? You've got some nerve, just like Satan!"

"Forget about that little bit of money, it's midnight, something big is happening in New York right now."

Constantine replied solemnly, “I don’t know if you found out the name of that thing, but I can tell you—Namos, a pure hungry spirit, is rampaging around outside right now, feasting on a rich feast of flesh and souls like a hungry wolf rushing into a sheepfold. Its food is everywhere here.”

"Can't you notice?"

(End of this chapter)