"Magic and miracles don't come free."
--by the legendary survivor John Constantine
Sorry, I got that wrong. Lu Xun said it.
If the previous Consecrated Exorcism had been a spell rather than an item, Ma Zhaodi wouldn't have dared use it directly. In this world, the power of magic was basically owned by someone, and every kind of power had its own source.
Learning magic didn't give people power. It taught them how to borrow power from its source. Unfortunately, the demons or higher beings who controlled those sources were no philanthropists. They often demanded a price from those who used magic. It could be a day's worth of good luck, or it could be a person's fate and soul.
The power contained in this one-use consecrated item belonged to the lineage of the one in Heaven, and it happened to be suited for exorcising demons. Since it was being used for its intended purpose, Ma Zhaodi only needed to use the item and didn't have to pay any price.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have risked touching anything related to magic. It wasn't because he feared he might be unable to resist abusing magic and end up owing a debt, but because he was afraid of forming a connection with certain people as a result. After all, one's teammates could also be offered as a sacrifice, and some mages had indeed grown accustomed to doing exactly that.
Ma Zhaodi let his thoughts wander as he drove. Along the way, he bought some ingredients and drove all the way home.
"Crack."
He drove to the roadside clearing outside the small apartment building where Drake lived, got out, and locked the car. Earlier, he had spent one dollar in Asset Points on the system map to search for a parking spot. The result showed that every place nearby could be used as one. It was strange, but the system hadn't screwed him over yet.
"God has answered my prayers. You're actually fine."
Drake climbed out of a nearby taxi with a curious look on his face. "This car doesn't look remotely as ominous as the boss claimed."
"Damn it, two goddamn idiots." The taxi driver cursed under his breath, then quickly started the car and fled as if his life depended on it.
He had followed the car the entire way at Drake's request, and only now had he gotten a clear look at its details. It still had no license plates, and its paint had been completely redone in gray, but he still recognized it as the infamous Death Car from Gotham's accident rankings.
Damn it, what kind of idiot would dare drive this thing on the road again? Wasn't he afraid of dying?
Ma Zhaodi watched the driver speed away, then turned to Drake. "What's wrong with him?"
"No idea. Maybe he lost the fare to Gotham Hospital and is in a hurry to pick up another one." Drake shook his head. "Forget him."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Yesterday, the Gotham Police Department once again arrested a large number of gang members. According to information disclosed by Commissioner Gordon, this arrest operation received assistance from Gotham City's masked vigilante—Batman."
"As of now, Batman has helped the Gotham Police Department arrest dozens, even as many as a hundred, Gotham gang members. This leaves me deeply puzzled. Does the Gotham Police Department really need the help of a masked outlaw to perform its normal duties? Must we rely on a masked man who uses violence and violates the law to help us enforce the law?"
"Although Commissioner Gordon has repeatedly stated that Batman poses no threat, not one of the arms, leg bones, or ribs of the gangs and criminals who have been arrested so far was broken by their own falls. No one has ever entered the police station completely unscathed after encountering this violent vigilante."
"Gotham's district attorney, Mr. Harvey Dent, has also maintained an ambiguous and unclear attitude toward Batman. Has Gotham's judicial fairness already been comprehensively influenced, or even controlled, by an illegal vigilante who hides his face? None of us knows."
Mrs. Camilla sat beside the small table, watching the television with great interest.
"We all know that this news agency is an asset of the Falcone gang." Drake sneered disdainfully after entering through the door.
"Listening to them is like listening to mice condemn rat poison. They talk about fairness, justice, respect for life, independence, and equality, but in reality, they're nothing but dogs waiting to be toyed with by profit. How many decent police officers and prosecutors has Gotham produced in the past ten years? Every one of them was hounded and bitten by these people."
"For the sake of argument, I'll assume you're still talking about the news agency." Ma Zhaodi hung his coat by the door. "So you support Batman?"
"Even the most correct words become twisted in their mouths. Anyway, I don't support that bunch." Drake shook his head. "But my opinion doesn't matter. I'm not from Gotham City, and I won't be staying here long."
"That's true. Once you leave, I'll renew the lease on this apartment."
"What for? You have fifty thousand dollars, and with your job, you could buy a smaller house on installments in some parts of the Audisburg District."
"Stop right there. Absolutely not. The moment I can find work in another city, I'll be the first to leave. Buying a house in Gotham is a completely losing proposition. One year of suffering here is worse than ten years added together in other cities."
Drake paused, realizing he had no way to refute that.
Everyone knew that Gotham's daily life couldn't exactly be called vibrant and flourishing. At the very least, it could be described as shrouded in smoke and gunfire. Any building in the city could be destroyed at any moment by a bomb, a missile, or a fire. As a result, the people involved in Gotham's real-estate business were generally no ordinary figures, while those who bought property in Gotham were mostly people who had no way to leave.
Mrs. Camilla spoke up at that moment. "Ma Zhaodi, where did you get the Cross Necklace around your neck?"
"Oh, we bought a car today, and I found it inside. I liked it, so I put it on."
"How beautiful." Camilla stared at the glittering necklace instinctively. As a Christian who had suffered from illness for years, she could definitely be called devout. Looking at the necklace Ma Zhaodi wore, she felt an inexplicable warmth.
Seeing that things were taking a bad turn, Ma Zhaodi immediately redirected the trouble. "Drake, why don't you get Mrs. Camilla a Cross Necklace?"
"Don't make things up. The church clearly gave her a blessed Cross Necklace." Drake muttered, "She just likes pretty accessories that glow."
Camilla raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"No." Drake immediately declared his loyalty. "I'll buy you one this afternoon."
"You can borrow the keys." Ma Zhaodi took out the original car keys. "Drive slowly on the way. Nothing will go wrong."
Drake looked at the keys and thought for a long while, but in the end, he still didn't dare take them.
That night.
Several furtive figures wandered through the streets and alleys of the slums. One of them saw a car parked brazenly by the roadside, and his eyes immediately lit up.
"Leon, hey, look at that car over there. We're really lucky today."
Upon hearing that, Leon glanced at the car, then immediately turned and walked away.
"Lucky my ass. You didn't recognize the Death Car? The driver only put out word today that the Falcone family's killer car had finally been sold. You're seriously thinking of stealing it back?"
"Move! Idiot! That car had better stay parked on that street corner forever."
When you're away from home, you earned your reputation through killing.
Before you continue