Constantine walked up to stand opposite Strange with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He planted his hands on his hips and stared at him without saying a word. After a while, he nodded vaguely and said, "I knew you weren't Constantine."
"You aren't either, are you? You answered Batman's call and came to this war because you were looking for a way out, weren't you? Maybe I can help you."
Constantine did not deny it. He merely tilted his head back slightly and said, "More precisely, I sensed Satan's arrival. As long as I can avoid him, it makes no difference where I go. Running into you was an unexpected pleasure, Sorcerer Supreme."
Then he suddenly laughed. Lowering his head, he shook it and said, "'Sorcerer Supreme'? That sounds... interesting."
"Not more interesting than your lungs." Strange picked up the scan again and pointed at it. "Do you regret turning your body into this?... Forget it, what a stupid question. If you regretted it, you wouldn't still be smoking."
"Are you going to be an anti-smoking ambassador too?" Constantine asked, looking at him.
He dropped heavily back onto the bed, took a deep drag, and said, "What was I supposed to do? I could see those strange things ever since I was little. If I told anyone, they treated me like a mental patient. But those things haunted my mind, invaded my dreams, tormented me every second of every day, leaving me unable to focus on anything. Nicotine and alcohol gave me temporary numbness, but that was all."
"So the demons in your world take that approach." Strange sighed.
"Aren't yours the same?" Constantine raised an eyebrow.
"How should I put it? The devils here take a softer approach. They usually don't try to scare you. Instead, they politely