People are scared in America, my uncle is Dante

Constantine pointed to the vivid, dripping drops of blood on the map and coughed:

"Before this, there were many real demons who disregarded the rules set by Heaven and Hell, and secretly left Hell through various means, successfully descending to the human world."

"They seem to have mastered some means to forcibly suppress their killing instincts and evade the angel council's detection."

"And this map, which my friend obtained at the cost of his life, marks the approximate locations where most of them are hiding among humans."

Suren understood.

The information that darkness is coming was obtained by Constantine after he had dealt with the Slit-Mouthed Woman incident in the original work. It's normal that he doesn't know it now.

As for the specific meaning of the impending darkness, the original work only mentions it vaguely.

This refers to the fact that these supernatural events are premeditated and will affect the balance of power between angels and demons. Beyond that, there is not much further explanation.

The rule Constantine just mentioned is actually a pact made by God and Satan in their struggle for human souls.

Purebred angels and demons are absolutely forbidden from revealing their true forms in the human world, let alone directly using divine and magical power to steal human souls.

They can only take human form and lurk among humans to seduce and bewitch them.

Of course, if you are a demon with your own reason, you can sneak down to the human world and possess some unlucky soul to experience life.

As long as you don't cause any major trouble, the higher-ups on both sides won't bother with you.

Similarly, if you're unlucky and get caught and purified by a passing exorcist as soon as you sneak in, no one in Hell will stand up for you.

However, most demons born in hell have little to no reason or thought.

They are usually driven only by instinct and act according to their own desires, which is why Constantine is puzzled.

But now, the demons have not only come to the human world, but they can also hide from the angels, which clearly means that someone is behind it.

"So, you want to investigate why these demons came to the human world?"

"Surren asked."

"That's right, and there's also the barrier between hell and the human world. Why was it broken?"

At this point, Constantine lit another cigarette: "I suspect there's a mole inside them."

"..."

Suren rubbed his temples, wondering how investigating a slit-mouthed woman could lead to such a whole host of questions.

"Click!"

The sound of a gun being cocked suddenly rang out behind him, breaking the somewhat tense atmosphere.

Lady, who had been sitting quietly in the corner listening to their conversation, stood up. Instead of showing any fear, an excited smile appeared on her face.

"Let's go blow that Slit-Mouthed Woman into the sky first!"

She licked her lips, her eyes burning with fervor.

"As for those smuggled devils... I actually hope there are as many as possible, just enough to warm up my gun barrel!"

……

the next day.

A residential area in Lower Los Santos, converted from an abandoned factory.

On the high platform, a robust black man, shirtless and wearing a red sacrificial robe, chanted in an obscure and incomprehensible language.

A bonfire blazed brightly below the stage, and a group of believers jumped and danced around the flickering flames, waving their hands wildly in the air with fanatical expressions.

As the black man on stage let out a loud, angry shout, he pressed his hands down slightly.

The dancing believers instantly fell silent and sat cross-legged facing the campfire.

A Black woman was led up to the platform by two attendants dressed in white. She was holding a portrait of a deceased person in her arms.

The woman walked up to the black man and respectfully handed him a thick wad of US dollars.

At midnight, the old man skillfully took the banknotes and fiddled with the edges.

After confirming the amount was correct, he reached out and took the portrait from the woman's arms, asking, "Why do you want to talk to your husband?"

The Black woman, named Maddie, looked at the portrait with a guilty expression: "Clark had cancer, and he died in our bed."

"I wasn't there at that time; I didn't even see him one last time..."

Old Man Midnight listened only symbolically for a couple of minutes before setting the portrait aside, picking up a porcelain bowl filled with pig's blood from behind him, and handing it to Maddie.

"Old Man Regba, please open the door for lost souls..."

His expression was solemn as he chanted an ancient incantation.

Maddie closed her eyes and drank the pungent pig's blood in one gulp.

After a while.

At midnight, the old man suddenly opened his arms, his chest bulged, and he took a deep breath.

Upon seeing this, the believers below the stage let out a series of low, unified cheers.

He slowly bent down, his sharp eyes becoming somewhat lost.

"Marty...is that you? Marty."

His voice had layers of overlapping sounds, as if many people were speaking at the same time.

Mary was overjoyed; she recognized the voice—it was her deceased husband, Clark's.

"It's me, Clark, I'm right here..."

She excitedly grabbed Midnight's father's arm.

"Marty, I can't see you. It's so dark here..."

Clark's voice came out intermittently from Midnight Dad's throat, filled with confusion and unease.

"The party was great, Midnight Daddy."

At this tender moment of separation between life and death, a voice suddenly came from below the stage, interrupting the spirit communication ceremony.

At midnight, Old Man's consciousness returned to his body.

He sat up abruptly, looking angrily in the direction from which the sound came.

"I'm sorry, I came in a hurry this time and didn't bring any gifts."

Suren stepped out of the shadows and smiled, "But I really can't imagine what kind of dessert could possibly be worthy of your bowl of fresh pig's blood."

"Who are you?"

As Midnight Old Man sensed the intense demonic aura emanating from the other party, a hint of apprehension flashed across his face.

"Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Suren, and I'm a private investigator."

Suren waved his hand casually. "I've heard so much about you, Midnight Daddy."

"Private investigator? What are you doing on my turf? And you've interrupted my sacred ceremony?!"

At midnight, the old man's face was cold.

The other party not only forcibly interrupted his ceremony, but also put his deal at risk of failure.

"As you said, I've come to stop this out-of-control ceremony, and I also hope you'll cooperate with me to end this farce."

Suren gave a cold laugh.

"Constantine, is this the man you brought?" Old Man Midnight, suppressing his anger, asked as he saw Constantine appear behind Suren, "Are you in cahoots?"

Don't misunderstand.

Suren pointed to Constantine beside her and corrected him, "Actually, he's someone I brought with me."

After confirming that these people were a group and had come to cause trouble, Midnight Old Man didn't waste any words and gave a wink to the audience.

The believers who had been sitting cross-legged around the bonfire stood up and surrounded the three of them from all directions, trapping Suren and his companions in the center.

Seeing the crowd of believers surrounding him, Constantine clenched his fists in front of him and said, "Ha! Actually, I know a little boxing too."

"Sister Lady, they're in your hands now."

Suren didn't turn his head, but spoke to those behind him.

"it is good."

Lady loosened her joints; dealing with these ordinary people didn't require wasting bullets.

She charged into the crowd like a wolf among sheep, displaying the physical prowess honed through years of fighting demons.

Wherever they went, believers fell down in unison, clutching their hands and feet and wailing in pain.

Constantine, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

After managing to knock down one or two people with a few punches, he was pinned to the ground by the overwhelming number of believers, and could only curl up to protect his vitals.

Who is this woman?

Standing on the high platform, Old Man Midnight's expression changed drastically. A strong sense of crisis made him unable to maintain his inscrutable demeanor any longer.

He raised his hands above his head, his palms glowing with an eerie green light, and rapidly chanted voodoo incantations, a cold and evil aura gathering in his hands.

A red light flashed in Suren's eyes, and his magic power suddenly erupted, leaving only a blur in the air as he instantly traversed a distance of more than ten meters.

At midnight, Old Man felt a blur before his eyes, and a gust of wind blew the red robe off his shoulder, causing his pupils to shrink abruptly.

The young man who was in the audience just a second ago was now standing in front of him the next.

"Someone once taught me that you should hit someone in the mouth first."

Suren sneered, his right hand flashing out like lightning, grabbing Midnight Old Man's chin and slamming his head hard against the ground.

"Bang!"

The loud impact knocked over several bowls of pig's blood on the altar and brought the battle below to a halt.

Suren placed one hand on Midnight Father's head, unleashing his magic power without reservation.

At midnight, Old Man felt as if he were being watched by an ancient ferocious beast, and even breathing became difficult.

"Ahem!"

Constantine, bruised and battered, crawled out of the crowd. He straightened his hair, lit a cigarette, and said, "Old man, your voodoo toys are utterly useless against absolute violence."

Suren ignored Zha Kang's sarcastic remarks. He released his grip, his face regaining its harmless smile: "Dad, can you cooperate now? Don't force me to kill them all."

Old Man Midnight struggled to sit up from the altar and glanced at the believers below, most of whom had already collapsed.

He was a shrewd businessman and a wise man who knew when to yield. Faced with an absolute disparity in strength, continuing to resist would only lead to his death.

He gritted his teeth and asked in a low voice:

"What do you want me to do?"