In truth, he merely needed to personally harvest that high-quality nourishment.
After making all the arrangements, Wu Heng said nothing more and headed for the garage.
Before starting the engine, he sent a brief message to Dean and Sam through an encrypted channel:
"The demon hunter forums have been pretty lively lately. Heard certain people have become public enemies? Want me to bring coffee and donuts to the sewers where you're hiding?"
Attached to the end of the message were the coordinates of the area in Colorado with the densest demon activity.
It was both a darkly humorous jab and a clear signal:
I'm here. Get ready—I'm going to help you clean up this mess!
Meanwhile, the Winchester Brothers were deeply worried.
After the demon gate had opened, even the air in Colorado seemed steeped in the stench of sulfur and despair.
Dean was currently using a thick branch he had found as a crutch, limping behind Sam. His left thigh had been crudely bandaged, and the blood seeping through it had already turned dark brown.
The sleeve of Sam's shirt on his right arm had also been torn open, leaving a scrape that burned painfully.
The brothers had just dealt with a coven of witches who used living human hearts to brew youth potions. They were exhausted, body and soul.
"Damn it, this place is like a sieve. Every kind of freak and monster is crawling out," Dean spat, carefully keeping weight off his injured leg as he leaned against a rusty pickup truck to catch his breath.
Just then, an old sedan spattered with mud came racing over and screeched to a halt in front of them. A frantic middle-aged man jumped out—it was their old demon hunter friend, Ellen.
"Dean, Sam, thank God I found you!" Ellen