People are scared in America, my uncle is Dante

Los Santos.

Pushing open the doors of the office, Lady surveyed the sparsely furnished lobby and couldn't help but let out a cold laugh: "Ha, how come I never realized Dante was such a good cleaner?"

The entire hall was empty, except for an old record player in the corner that survived.

Suren had just safely escorted Patty back to her apartment when she stepped inside carrying an extra-large deluxe pizza and two strawberry sundaes.

Just as he reached the door, he heard Lady looking at Dante's former desk and muttering discontentedly, "Running away to avoid debts is one thing, but not even leaving a note, that old bastard..."

"He better pray I don't catch him in some woman's apartment."

Before she could finish speaking, Lady suddenly turned her head and stared at Suren, who had just entered the room.

Su Lun felt a chill run down his spine as he was stared at by that murderous gaze.

"Don't look at me like that, Lady."

He quickly picked up the bag to prove his innocence.

"I swear, Dante disappeared as soon as I came back. Not only was there nothing left in the place, but I also had to swallow my pride and pay off his long list of debts."

At this point, Suren added indignantly, "Who would have thought that he even puts the money for his pizzas and sundaes on the firm's tab!"

Hearing this, Lady looked amused, her gaze falling on the cheese-scented box in Suren's hand: "Oh? You paid off his bill and still managed to afford a giant pizza and sundae."

"Looks like someone's struck it rich recently and is quite well-off."

Suren's heart skipped a beat, and she gave a dry laugh: "I took on some commissions and barely made a little money."

"How much?" Lady pressed on.

Surendon sensed something was wrong.

When Dante was around, she would deduct most of his commission from his account for various reasons.

Now that Dante has run away, is it going to fall on my head as a consequence?

"There really aren't many..."

A few minutes later.

After a friendly conversation, Suren looked at the notification on her phone that a million US dollars had been successfully transferred, and her heart was bleeding.

"Don't make that sour face, just consider it a sign of respect for your elders."

Lady accepted the money without hesitation, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "I won't take it for nothing. Since you're going to go it alone now, I'll introduce you to an arms dealer after this is over."

"That guy has some really powerful connections; he can get his hands on a lot of top-secret commissions that even the authorities can't access."

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Morrison walked in, a cigar dangling from his lips, and was somewhat surprised to see the woman standing in the hall.

He nodded slightly in greeting: "Lady? When did you get back?"

Lady reclined in the chair, wiping the gun barrel. "It'll only be a few minutes. You guys talk business, don't worry about me."

Morrison looked at Suren and asked, "How's the cannibal commission in Poho County going?"

Suren nodded: "Resolved."

Morrison exhaled a smoke ring and asked quietly, "Where's the sports car I specially rented for you? I can't see it at the door."

"..."

Suren's expression froze, and she fell silent.

Seeing his guilty look, Morrison seemed to have expected this outcome.

He chuckled helplessly, "You and Dante are practically identical."

"Given that this is our first collaboration, I will transfer the full official commission to your account, and the car issue will be considered settled."

Upon hearing this, Suren couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.

Morrison has always been a very reliable middleman, cleaning up Dante's messes for many years and never arbitrarily deducting from his fees. He can definitely be considered a gentleman in the industry.

He leaned forward subtly and muttered, "I'll pay you back for the car later."

After saying that, he secretly gave the other party a wink, signaling them not to make a fuss.

If Lady, who was cleaning her gun nearby, knew that she still had money left over to pay for the car, her hard-earned savings would probably suffer another major loss.

Having spent years navigating the underworld, Morrison immediately understood the survival instinct in his eyes, smiled knowingly, and nodded.

He pulled a new document from his briefcase and handed it over: "Perfect timing, here's some new work."

"I've run into some paranormal trouble in the city. The pay is pretty good. Want to take the job?"

Suren took the document, glanced at it, and then pushed it back with little interest: "I'm busy with other things lately, I'll contact you when I have time."

Morrison didn't insist. He put away the documents, gestured to Lady with his hat brim, and turned to leave the office.

……

Inside the elevator.

John Constantine stepped on the cigarette butt he had thrown on the ground and stomped it out.

He glanced at the no-smoking sign in the elevator and sneered.

"Clatter".

A flame shot out from the lighter, and he skillfully lit another cigarette for himself.

"call--"

Constantine raised his head and exhaled a puff of smoke.

He looked in the elevator mirror at his own dejected face.

From birth, he was burdened with a curse; his mother died giving birth to him, and his father blamed him for everything.

As he grew up, his arrogance led to the tragic deaths of innocent little girls and his closest friends one after another.

After experiencing all of this, he chose to end his tragic life by suicide, but was rescued.

From then on, he became a chain-smoking bastard.

"Dude, if you keep exposing others to secondhand smoke like this, you won't get into heaven after you die."

Constantine suddenly remembered a freak he had met before, who had been raised by a demon and a human.

His hand holding the cigarette tightened slightly, and he chuckled to himself.

Go to heaven?

That foul-mouthed brat had no idea that the gates of heaven had already closed to him the moment he committed suicide, so there was no reason for him to be convicted of it by secondhand smoke.

In Catholic doctrine, suicide is an unforgivable sin, and the gates of heaven will be closed to any believer who commits suicide.

"Ding!"

The elevator doors opened.

Constantine suppressed these chaotic emotions.

All he wants now is to drive out a few more demons from this messed-up world so he can buy a ticket to heaven.

Several men and women, young and old, stood anxiously in front of us, as if they had been waiting here for a long time.

"Where is the child?"

Constantine, with a cigarette between his fingers, spoke in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Please...please come with me."

A haggard-looking mother choked up as she led the way.

Pushing open the bedroom door, even though it was midday with the sun shining brightly, the room was unusually cold, like a freezer.

In the dim light, a girl with her eyes rolled back was tightly strapped to the bed.

She struggled and convulsed, her face contorted in a ferocious expression, her mouth agape as she frantically tore at the air.

Constantine placed the cigarette on the corner of the table, walked over, and pulled down the curtains, making the room much brighter.

He took out a string of eight Catholic commemorative medals from his pocket and began to test them one by one.

This cross-shaped portable ritual implement originated during wartime.

In order to ensure that soldiers on the front lines could receive the protection of multiple patron saints at the same time, the Church specially fused together eight different sacred symbols.

After all, different keys unlock different locks.

Different factions of demons require different methods to drive them away and eliminate them.

When the "Spiritual Manifestation Card" was tested, the girl on the bed who was possessed by a demon finally had a violent reaction.

The origin of this holy medal can be traced back to a 19th-century Parisian monastery.

Legend has it that the design of the relic was personally taught to the nuns by the Virgin Mary, and that it contains a coercive grace that can force the hidden demons to reveal their true forms.

Constantine knelt on top of the little girl.

He leaned down, staring into those pupil-less eyes, and whispered, "I am Constantine, John Constantine, you bastard who has intruded into the human world."

The demon possessing the girl's body couldn't understand his words at all. It raised its head slightly and uttered a series of strange syllables: "Sisiksikan ko sila (I will kill them)."

Constantine snorted coldly and, without saying a word, pressed the miraculous holy tablet in his hand onto the girl's forehead.

"Sizzle—"

A delicious aroma of roasted meat wafted over.

The girl was trembling and convulsing violently.

A few seconds later, her body shuddered violently and she fell silent.

Constantin frowned, looking at the girl's exposed skin, where veins bulged and were turning black at a visible speed.

He was about to lean down to listen to see if the other person was still breathing.

Just then.

The skin on the girl's neck was suddenly torn open, revealing a large mouth full of sharp teeth.

"FUCK!"

Constantin cursed and punched the monster, shouting at the same time,

"Quickly, go get a mirror!"

The neighbors who had bravely peeked out to watch the commotion were all terrified by the shocking scene and stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

"hurry up!"

Constantine didn't turn his head and roared again.

Just as chaos erupted in the corridor, a voice that sounded familiar came from outside the door:

"Constantine, how are you still alive?"