Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 259 My hometown, Dongda University, is like this
It was the dead of night, the moon was high in the sky, and dark clouds loomed overhead.

In the brightly lit New York City, the conversation between the two wizards continues.

"Indians say that when a tiger is eating, the jungle holds its breath."

“We call this ‘two tigers cannot share one mountain,’” Ma Zhaodi chimed in.

Constantine, who was speaking, was interrupted and instinctively rolled his eyes at him. After gathering his emotions again, he said to Midnight, "Think about it, old man, what powerful person can tolerate a demon causing trouble in their own garden?"

At midnight, listening to Constantine's words, he looked out the window at the night sky with a gloomy expression, while Constantine behind him continued to try to persuade him.

“I know how to defeat that thing, but I need a magician’s help—a powerful magician with resources.”

"A free magician," Ma Zhaodi thought to himself. "He has to be strong enough, and there has to be a stake in the matter, the kind who's willing to help without being paid."

Constantine couldn't hear Ma Zhaodi's thoughts. He casually took out another cigarette, walked to the altar where the skull was placed, and lit another one with the candle on the table: "Brother, think it over carefully. You can also ask the skull. I'll come back in a while—by the way, remember to convey my love to your sister. She was an incredible woman in life."

"She is now too."

At midnight, he saw him push Lester, who was holding a white rooster, out and say to himself, "One more thing, do me a favor and look after this friend for me—that's all, see you later."

Ma Zhaodi couldn't help but frown. He hadn't expected Constantine to abandon his teammates here; it was a completely unnecessary choice.

But the next moment, he saw Lester, holding the chicken, walk obediently to Midnight's side, and actually tacitly approve of Constantine's arrangement, even seeming somewhat impatient, which made him swallow back what he wanted to say.

As the two left, Ma Zhaodi could vaguely hear Lester's voice coming from under the door: "Uh, Mr. Midnight, John said you could help me get my fix, do you have any high-purity stuff?"

Ma Zhaodi couldn't quite keep his expression to himself; he was amused by Lester's antics.

“Constantine, I’m reminded of an old saying from my hometown.”

"Hmm?" Constantine asked with a relaxed expression, "What the hell?"

"The country is easy to change, but the nature is hard to change."

"If you don't understand, speak English."

“A dog can’t change its habit of eating shit.”

However, what Ma Zhaodi didn't know was that the conversation continued after the two left.

“Oh, my friend, you can have whatever you need, but wait a minute—first, tell me about your old friend and that stranger—have you known them for a long time? Do you trust them a lot?”

“Well, that stranger seems to have come to see John a few days ago. We’re not very familiar with each other, not even friends.” Lester answered cautiously. “All I know is that his name is Ma Zhaodi, he’s Chinese, he likes things related to the occult, and he has some money. He seems very gentle, but he always likes to control people. I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.”

He had thought of the candy he had eaten and the hat he had worn, but he also knew very well that he was an addict. In the past few days, he had been tormented by Namos to the point of mental exhaustion, and he was in a state of semi-consciousness. He was not sure if those strange things that seemed unreal were just his hallucinations, so he simply didn't say anything.

"Oh, another ignorant outsider." Midnight chuckled knowingly. He'd seen plenty of those bumpkins who lost all respect just because they had some money. Without exception, they all thought they could buy everything with their wealth, fantasizing about spending money to have mysticism work for them, to make more money, to eliminate their rivals, or to defy fate and achieve longevity.

They had no idea how exorbitant the prices of miracles and magic were, nor did they know that dollars could never be used to pay for magic. The more valuable what they wanted, the more important the exchange became; fate, life, and souls were the universal currency of the occult. After receiving Lester's reply, Midnight Father instantly lost interest in Ma Zhaodi's information.

"And what about your old friend, John Constantine? Do you trust him?"

“John.” After a moment’s thought, Lester replied, “I trust John.”

"I entrusted my life to him."

On the other side, Constantine and Ma Zhaodi had just come downstairs when a sudden gust of cold wind hit them in the face—a loud whooshing sound followed, and it started to rain heavily outside.

“There are no taxis on the street, but there are quite a lot of people.” Ma Zhaodi looked at the pedestrians coming and going under the streetlights, marveling at how many people could be in New York’s bustling streets at night. Gotham didn’t have this scene: “Did you bring an umbrella?”

"Why would I need an umbrella? It's not far from the subway." Constantine exhaled a puff of smoke. "Didn't you spend some time in America? Now that you're in New York, why don't you go have some fun tonight?"

"It sounds like you wanted to act alone and then made up a lame excuse to get rid of me," Ma Zhaodi couldn't help but complain. "You might as well be more explicit; there's no need to hide anything."

"I'm going to see my girlfriend."

Ma Zhaodi understood.

"Okay, I understand how you feel, but your girlfriend may have already been exposed to Namo. In other words, be careful when you're alone, and don't fall for it."

Even if I run into Namos, I won't need you to come.

Halfway through his sentence, Constantine suddenly paused. After thinking about it carefully, he replied, "I think you have a point. Come with me."

Looking at Constantine, who had suddenly become much more agreeable, Ma Zhaodi had a bad feeling.

“No, no, I was just being polite by expressing my concern.” He immediately waved his hand and said, “You don’t need to take it seriously at all, and besides, this is between you and your girlfriend—”

"Stop talking so much." Constantine pulled him straight to the subway station: "Let's go, we'll need your help later."

The New York subway was still packed with people at night, and the crowds made Constantine feel like a sardine in a can.

The rain left many people's clothes and shoes soaking wet, and their coats smelled musty, making the air in the subway smell rather unpleasant.

Constantine's expression had been rather unpleasant ever since he boarded the plane, and it became even worse when he squeezed onto the subway.

Then, he watched in disbelief as Ma Zhaodi slipped into the crowd and, as if in his element, passed through a dozen or so gaps, strolling leisurely to his side.

Why are you so comfortable in crowded places?

"Nothing special, just practice makes perfect - that's how it is at my hometown Dongda University."

(End of this chapter)