"They're all charred. Toss it."
The gorilla perched on Deathstroke's shoulder glanced at the head in the shoebox, then turned away in disgust and covered his mouth. The face on that head had been rather handsome; it looked much like Wade after being stuffed into an oven and baked.
Detective Chimp knew that Strangle could obtain fragments of memory by devouring a creature's brain, but this completely carbonized skull probably contained nothing but a puddle of black ash.
Strangle extended a tiny tendril and gently touched it. The brittle skull immediately cracked in several places, and a stream of warm white smoke drifted out from the cranial cavity. The smell was rather indescribable.
"Looks like the brain was completely cooked dry. Albera, it's up to you now."
"Fine, what a hassle." The witch took the shoebox and shook her head at the Deadman's Head. "Not here. We need somewhere without sunlight. Let's get down from the Torch first."
"All right. Adjutant, send us to the sewers." Su Ming readily chose the darkest place available.
Conventional methods of gathering clues would not work, but they still had magic.
If Constantine was Hellblazer, then Albera was Hell's divorce lawyer. She basically knew all the spells and techniques he did.
Deathstroke did not even need to explain. She already understood what needed to be done. Simply put, they now had the dead man's head as a medium; they only needed to cast a spell to summon his soul from the world of the dead and question it.
Whether that soul was lining up to reincarnate in the realm of death or suffering in Hell, as long as it had not yet been reincarnated, they could find it.
Heaven was impossible. The Angels had all gone mad, and that place was no longer open