Constantine Didn't Quite Understand, but Was Deeply Shocked

"Tell me, do you think he came specifically for me?"

"Meow~"

"If that's really the case, shouldn't we take countermeasures?"

"Meow~"

"I'm talking to you, and all you can do is meow meow meow..."

"Lynn, you picked up the wrong one!"

"Hm?"

Lynn was carrying a cat and taking small steps forward when someone suddenly called out to him from behind. He turned around to see Schrodinger running toward him from afar, hugging a fish.

"Oh my! A cat that insists on hugging a fish instead of carrying it in its mouth—sure enough, I really picked up the wrong one."

When Schrodinger reached Lynn, the cat Lynn had been holding ran off. Schrodinger stood by Lynn's feet and gave him a sidelong look. "What's the point of saying that? You were holding a white cat!"

"Haha, what's the point of saying that? Keep up. Walk by yourself, and don't jump onto my shoulder while holding that fish!"

Kitty never indulged Lynn's bad habits. With a push of his legs, he shot up onto Lynn's head, then slowly slid down and settled onto his shoulder.

He was still hugging the fish, whose tail was flopping wildly.

"Lynn, did that person scare you just now? You seem a little distracted."

"Scared? Of course not."

Lynn wasn't lying. He really wasn't that frightened—he just found it troublesome.

The smell of smoke and alcohol, a trench coat, messy hair, a terrible personality, and the scent of a demon on him.

In this DC world, who else could have all those traits besides Constantine?

Lynn had never expected to run into that playboy whose profession was selling out his teammates, because in his memories, Constantine had always operated on the magic side of things.

He didn't care much about justice or evil. Everyone said he wanted to go to Heaven, but really, he just didn't want to go to Hell.

Apparently, it was because he had too many acquaintances down there. Who knew whether that was true.

In a sense, being teammates with Constantine was even scarier than being teammates with Batman.

Old Batman would at most be wary of you, but at critical moments, he was still dependable.

Constantine was different. He looked reliable most of the time, but at a crucial moment, he would definitely sell you out.

And yet, this guy really was a genuine ally.

Getting involved with someone like him was no good thing.

He couldn't really kill the man, could he? Besides, if Constantine went to Heaven, Gabriel might send him right back down in minutes. And if he went to Hell, what if Lucifer stepped down and handed him the throne a couple days later? That would be a disaster!

"This is tough..."

Lynn was certain Constantine had come for him. Superheroes always did things like this; the odds of it being a pure coincidence were far too low.

"So what, Lynn? He's already gone. Can't we just do what we need to do?"

Gone?

Lynn shot Kitty a disdainful look. What a cat brain—his eyes only saw dried fish and live fish.

"How could it be that simple? I think we need to change course for now and find somewhere more open."

"Hm? What for? Is it time to eat?"

"You eat your fish. Hurry up and finish it. I'll need your help later, so fill up."

"Okay."

An hour later.

"Lynn! You won't come to a good end—!"

"Haah~~ Off you go!"

With a powerful kick, Kitty turned into an exquisite streak of black light and flew into the overgrown field.

Lynn pulled out a bucket from the pocket on his belly, turned it upside down, and sat on it.

He scratched the itchy flesh on his face, then looked around as though waiting for someone.

"Are you waiting for me?"

Lynn had just looked over the empty space to his left and turned his head right when a voice came from that direction.

"Yo, how did you get here? Is that magic too?"

Constantine was a little surprised by Lynn's complete lack of reserve toward a stranger.

"You know me."

It wasn't a question. Constantine said with certainty, "But we haven't... right. Met before. On the boat just now."

He walked over and stood beside Lynn, looking in the direction Lynn was watching. Constantine asked his first question. "What are you looking at?"

Still seated on the bucket, Lynn raised a hand and pointed in a certain direction. "Is that person here for you?"

"How could there be anyone in a place like... oh, shit!"

A huge rock flew toward them trailing thick smoke, and Constantine hurriedly ducked.

The rock's aim wasn't great. It smashed into a half-dead little tree two or three body lengths from Constantine, pulverizing it on impact.

"You...! Where did he go?!"

The instant Constantine ducked, he figured out the key to the problem. He had just turned to curse Lynn when his eyes swept around and found only an overturned wooden bucket sitting there. The bandage-faced guy had already vanished.

"This guy really is..."

Another stone came flying over. Glimmering motes of light rose from Constantine's hands as he traced a very strange gesture.

"A Stone Aperture Demon? Who opened another weird passageway...

Damn it! I found the wrong person!"

Constantine felt a little regretful. He had made the first mistake by finding the wrong person, and then that person had acted swiftly and decisively, directly taking countermeasures by luring him here to kill him.

"Damn it, I won't let you get away with this."

Constantine always repaid his grudges. He was already thinking of eight hundred different spells to scare the other party with.

However, looking at the Stone Aperture Demon before him, which seemed like a chimney that had come to life, Constantine could only steel himself and deal with the immediate problem first.

From just before sunset, he had been recruiting people, fighting, sealing, tracking...

And now that night had fallen, Constantine had never suffered such an inexplicable loss anywhere else.

Theoretically, he had provoked the other party first, but if he cared about that, he wouldn't be Constantine.

The drop of blood in his palm was nearly dry. On the boat, Constantine had placed a small spell on that bandaged man, allowing him to track his direction through blood.

That spell was also why he had been able to appear beside that guy so accurately during the day.

But back then, Constantine had been following closely, because he had never been too far from that person.

But now...

"How did he run so fast in this godforsaken wilderness?! Fuck!"

The blood dried up, turning into a wisp of black smoke that vanished into the air.

Rubbing his hands together, Constantine held his forehead. He was starting to regret it.

Maybe he shouldn't have approached that guy so easily. Maybe he should have made more preparations. Maybe he should have acted on the boat. Maybe he shouldn't have...

"Hm? What's that smell?"

Though it shouldn't have been possible, Constantine really did smell food.

"In a place like this? In a desolate mountain with half a foot of snow and no signal?!"

Without hesitation, Constantine followed the scent.

A skilled man was bold. Even if there really were ghosts or an old witch brewing soup, Constantine could guarantee that the one who suffered would be the other party.

Whatever. He would find the place and warm himself up first.

Crunching through the snow and braving the wind, Constantine walked for more than two minutes. After crossing a small hill, he saw firelight.

That was...

"The Stone Aperture Demon must have damaged my eyes. Are witches these days really this, this... this outrageous?!"

Thick walls, warm lights, delicate glass windows, and a unique sense of aesthetics.

Before Constantine stood a huge pineapple house amid the snowy, windswept mountains.