Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 272 The Prodigal Son's Confession (Vote on the last day of the month, or your vote will expire!)
"Why go to such lengths? Does this kind of scumbag deserve such a happy ending?"

Ma Zhaodi looked at Constantine and retorted, "Why not? Do you think you don't deserve to be saved?"

Constantine lit another cigarette and sneered, "I'm asking you, what makes you think you're qualified to stand up and be a savior?"

"I've always hated self-righteous bastards like you. You always think the world won't turn without you, right? You think you were born with a mission to save the world, that you're destined for great things, that you can't stand seeing others sacrifice themselves, and that you're more eager to die than anyone else. It's like you're the only saint in the whole world, an angel, a reincarnation of Joan of Arc, and everyone else is a selfish, shameless, cowardly piece of trash who can't sacrifice themselves."

With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he grew increasingly agitated, pointing at Ma Zhaodi and launching into a tirade: "Did anyone tell you you needed saving? Did anyone ask you to make sacrifices in their place? What gives you the right to stand up and deny everything about people like us? Don't you know that even bastards have backbone, and bastards have their ways? What makes you think your sacrifice makes my suffering seem so worthless?"

"You think you're noble because you saved someone, right? I know what you're thinking. We both know about that witchcraft, don't we? We can both seal Namos away, so things become very simple—either you do it, or I do it."

“The struggle is mine, the sacrifice is mine, you bastard!” Constantine roared. “I’m going to deceive my own friend, I’m going to seal Namos into him with my own hands, and then let him and that evil spirit devour each other to death. It’s practically killing him with my own hands! I made such a huge decision to bear this pain and sin, and you didn’t even struggle with it!”

“Just come here and tell me that we don’t need to sell our conscience or soul, we have a perfect ending! All we need to do is sacrifice you!”

He asked, enunciating each word clearly, "On what grounds? On what grounds? Doesn't a bastard deserve to be sacrificed?"

Ma Zhaodi was silent for a moment. He hadn't expected Constantine to ask such a question, so he replied, "I don't have that many thoughts."

“We both know that sealing magic, that’s true, so either you do it or I do it—and the target is Lester.”

"He's your best friend, isn't he? He said he'd entrust his life to you. I'm thinking, it would be too cruel for you to deceive him and kill him with your own hands, both for you and for him."

“You made this decision to save New York, which makes me feel that you shouldn’t bear this sin. You’re not a bad guy, Constantine. You’re a good man who can’t go back.”

“I don’t want to do this for you either, because I’m a selfish person too—there are two kinds of people in the world, one who thinks sacrificing oneself is painful, and one who thinks sacrificing others is painful. And we’re a lot like that, Constantine, the pain of sacrificing others is extraordinary for us.”

“The reason you cursed me is because you had a second option—you could have sacrificed yourself, since you were no longer the only one who knew the sealing technique, and you didn’t have to perform the ritual yourself. You had the option of ‘self-sacrifice,’ but you didn’t choose it. You still decided to sacrifice Lester.”

"The reason you're angry with me is because you've realized that you don't want to sacrifice others, but you also don't want to sacrifice yourself. You feel like you're no longer a good person who would sacrifice to save the world, and you feel like a hypocrite who's afraid to sacrifice himself—and you hate hypocrites the most."

Hearing Ma Zhaodi's words, Constantine felt a surge of blood rush to his head. He gritted his teeth, took two steps forward, and grabbed Ma Zhaodi's collar tightly. His fingers trembled slightly, whether from anger or shame, it was hard to tell: "You bastard! If you dare call me a hypocrite again, I'll fucking—"

He paused here.

What should be done with Ma Zhaodi? Should he be killed?

But he was originally going to seal Namos inside his own body, so he didn't need to lift a finger. The vicious spirit would devour him from the inside, leaving him as an empty shell.

He had already decided to die. "Give me that potion if you dare, you bastard!" Constantine heard himself utter these words: "Let me drink it! I'll show you whether I'm a spineless coward, a hypocrite, a coward!"

He knew what those words meant, and he knew the excruciating pain of being devoured by countless insects like Namos. Therefore, he felt that he must have gone mad to say such an angry thing.

But at the same time, he felt an indescribable sense of relief from the bottom of his heart, like a traveler who had been on the road for a long time putting down the heavy burden on his shoulders, or like a patient who had been suffering from illness and pain for a long time finally ushering in the day of relief.

So he grabbed Ma Zhaodi's hand and stopped trembling.

“Give me the medicine,” he said. “You’re not qualified to make decisions for me, you bastard.”

Perhaps Ma Zhaodi is right; for Constantine, death was terrible, but sacrifice was a relief.

He looked into Constantine's eyes and smiled.

“Constantine, you’re still a good man,” Ma Zhaodi replied briskly. “That’s why I can’t let you die.”

"What do you know about me? You think you understand me?" Constantine was disgusted by the smile and retorted sharply, "You don't know how my father died, nor do you know what really happened in Newcastle, do you?"

"I did it all, you bastard! I used dark magic to kill my father when I was fourteen, and then at twenty-five I used dark magic to kill a little girl, and my friends too."

“Anne Maria, Frank, Benjamin, they all went to Newcastle with me, they all died because of me, Leicester too, he got addicted that time—and that little girl Astra, she was dragged into hell, tormented forever.”

"I did all of this, do you understand? You bastard! You're saving a murderer! You're saving an idiot who has killed countless people."

Constantine was still yelling at Ma Zhaodi, unaware that his face was already filled with tears.

Rather than criticizing Ma Zhaodi, it's more accurate to say that he's cursing himself, cursing that ignorant, arrogant, and conceited soul.

At the same time, it is also like a confession, a repentance.

So Ma Zhaodi patted him on the shoulder and smiled at him.

“Then I will definitely not let you die, Constantine.”

"There are so many souls waiting for you to save."

(End of this chapter)