Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 269 The Hungry Spirit Arrives (Seeking Votes at the End of the Month)
At dawn, as the sun rose, a familiar scent drew me in, causing me to soar and meander into the sky.

We hummed a low, somber pre-dinner hymn, while something in the ceiling garden below seemed to respond in kind.

The ingredients for the cooking ceremony seemed to be special blood and smelled like birds, but I didn't mind because it made the main course more delicious.

I am not picky about food; my greed is like the greed of this city. Endless greed devours everyone's flesh and blood, yet it becomes my sustenance, making me strong and satisfying. I live and grow with them; our connection is so sacred, so terrifying, so perfect.

As the dark clouds rise with the first rays of sunlight, we will bring undisguised desires, genuine joy, and ultimately, peace and happiness to this insatiable world.

I flew toward the Ceiling Garden, where the most intense fragrance I had ever smelled beckoned me, inviting me to savor this exquisite delicacy.

So I came.

"No, don't do this, where are you taking me?"

At dawn, Lester, who had been carried to the rooftop by two zombies, was emaciated. He was left to linger in the barn all day without any ice, which brought him to the lowest point in his mental state—listless, delirious, weak, covered in cold sweat, looking more like a ghost than a human, and completely powerless to break free from the zombie laborers' oppression.

As he was being pressed onto the bench in the rooftop garden, midnight was already waiting there. He glanced at his watch—only ten minutes left before the sun began to rise and the church seals were to be torn off. Hopefully, Constantine was ready.

"What on earth do you want to do?"

“Deal with the evil spirit, Lester,” Midnight said. “Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday? You are the bait.”

"So fast? Can we wait a little longer? I'm a little scared."

However, he ignored him at midnight.

"Ugh ah ah"

A low murmur filled the room as Constantine's shoulders were shaken violently.

But he did not wake up.

pat-

The room light was switched on, and the blinding white light instantly filled the room, making it impossible for Constantine, who wanted to continue sleeping, to stay in bed any longer.

"It's so crowded. Who the hell turned on the lights? What time is it?"

Constantine, barely managing to open his eyes, looked bewildered. His lifeless gaze swept across the room before he saw the massive zombie standing beside the bed—frankly, it was terrifying.

"Damn it. Can't you wake people up in a more normal way?"

Despite complaining, he jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed.

Constantine splashed some cold water on his face, grabbed his coat, and walked into the elevator with the zombie Joey—the whole perfunctory yet ritualistic process took only seven minutes and barely caused any delays.

But this is mainly because he wasn't sleepy.

The herbal tea that Ma Zhaodi gave me was a bit too effective, Constantine thought to himself, making it a little difficult for me to even pretend to be asleep—luckily, I'm an old actor.

He followed the zombies from the elevator to the rooftop. Facing Midnight and Lester, he took a deep breath, hoping his acting skills were good enough to prevent the seasoned Midnight from seeing through his disguise.

After all, if the truth were to come out today, he and Ma Zhaodi would probably both be targeted by this voodoo sorcerer who has no shortage of resources and no humanity.

"Good morning, Constantine." Midnight was still wearing that white suit and primitive grass skirt: "According to the building's exit surveillance footage, it seems that another friend of yours left you yesterday."

“I’ll find an excuse to get rid of him. That guy’s too nice and will affect the plan—good morning, midnight.” Constantine lit a cigarette and greeted midnight in the pitch-black sky. “It’s a really nice day for a knight.”

Midnight looked at the still gloomy sky with a puzzled expression. Although the sun was about to rise, he couldn't even see the clouds clearly, let alone the weather. He asked with some doubt, "What knight?" "Haha, racial knight, you bastard."

"."

Midnight, who was already Black, looked even darker. Fortunately, it wasn't light outside, so no one could tell. He retorted, "Save your energy. Leave it for your friend later."

Constantine remained silent.

"Tattoo needles, ink, straitjacket, white powder, chair," Midnight ignored him and turned to check the props she would need later: "Everything is ready."

"Where did this electric chair come from?"

"Private auctions—things that leaked from state prisons, where over three hundred lives were roasted to a crisp."

"I tested it, and it's great stuff. You're overpraising it."

"Hmm." Midnight remained noncommittal: "It's powerful magic, and the irony in it might give you some amusement."

“What, do state prisons electrocute prisoners?” Constantine took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m not sure if this joke is still relevant these days—anyway, let me say a few words to Lester, and then we’ll get to work.”

"Should I wear sunglasses? Just so I don't give myself away."

“No need.” Constantine waved his hand and walked to Lester’s side in the distance. “Good morning, Gates—how are you?”

“I…I’m not feeling well, Constantine,” Lester said weakly, being supported by two large black men. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

“You’ve said something like that before—but you’ve made it this far, buddy. Don’t worry, it’s just some graffiti.”

"Can't you stop? I'm really starting to..."

"No, friend, just think of it as you going to the dentist, and imagine it as your mother."

Constantine patted Lester on the shoulder reassuringly, watching him being tied to the electric chair by two burly men, while he casually grabbed a syringe: "See this? Good stuff straight from Thailand, it'll definitely make you fly—be a brave boy, and I'll treat you well after this."

"Can't you give it to me now?"

"Wait a minute, kid."

Listening to their conversation at midnight, a satisfied smile appeared on his face—Constantine's tongue was like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, capable of making the dead seem alive, and the plan was proceeding smoothly under his cover.

So he picked up the knife and the white-feathered rooster and began the ritual.

Boom!dong dong!

Two zombie laborers stood on either side and began to beat the hand drums at their waists, the primitive and wild rhythm echoing across the rooftop.

"Cuckoo-"

The knife sliced ​​across the rooster's neck, and the white-feathered chicken, held upside down, began to bleed, which was all caught in the golden bowl below.

Feathers stirred, incantations murmured, and when midnight arrived and a magic circle was set up beside the electric chair with chicken blood, the time had come.

The church's incantation was broken, the doors shattered instantly, and Namos flew freely into the dark night sky. He was then immediately drawn by the ritual and headed towards the Midnight Building.

The hungry spirits have arrived.

(End of this chapter)