He finally nodded and said in a more solemn tone, "Okay. Be careful. After you go out, go directly to the cemetery and find the bones of the three boys and burn them. The faster you do it, the better."
The actress finally agreed to help. She put on an old-fashioned white dress and put on pale makeup on her face. Dean encouraged her in a low voice behind her, teaching her how to speak and what tone of voice sounded like Leticia.
The actress took a deep breath, lowered her throat, and shouted loudly, her voice cold and stern. "Children! Come here immediately! You must agree when I call you!"
Three evil boys were wandering in the corridor, scratching the walls with knives. They suddenly stopped when they heard the sound, with a look of fear on their faces, and they stopped subconsciously.
There was a rattling sound from the sealed door, and the lock cylinder was slowly turning.
Dean quickly signaled Barnes and the two of them to run. The two of them ducked and quietly moved towards the door.
Just when the door was about to be completely released, a cheerful hip-hop ringtone suddenly rang - the actress's cell phone kept vibrating in her pocket, which was particularly harsh in the silent corridor and was incompatible with the gloomy atmosphere.
The actress' face instantly turned pale, and she hurriedly reached for her cell phone. The more anxious she became, the more she couldn't get it out.
The three villains were stunned for a few seconds, and then they realized what they were doing. The fear on their faces turned into ferocious smiles, and they slowly surrounded them with knives in hand.
"Run!" Dean pulled the actress behind him, picked up the iron bar next to her and rushed towards her.
Sam grabbed the salt shaker and threw it hard. The salt particles fell on the ghost, making a sizzling sound. The ghost was burned to the point of screaming, but it quickly surrounded him again.
The salt quickly ran out, and the two of them were forced into a corner with their bare hands and by three evil boys step by step. Behind them was a cold wall, and there was no way to retreat.
In the lobby, the hotel manager has long been impatient. No matter how Chuck tries to stop her, or talks about the danger outside, or waits, he won't listen.
"I don't care what crappy games you guys play, I'm leaving! If you stop me again, I'll call the police!" The manager pushed Chuck away and reached out to pull the door handle.
He opened the door, and the salt line sprinkled at the door was instantly crushed by him, and the salt particles scattered all over the floor. A ghost of a bad boy floated in, and rushed towards the manager with a dagger raised, a cruel smile on his face.
The manager was so frightened that his legs were weak and he collapsed on the ground unable to move. He watched the dagger slash towards his face and even forgot to scream.
The moment the dagger was about to fall, Chuck picked up the iron rod next to him, roared and rushed over, swinging the stick hard. With his eyes closed, he used all his strength, and the iron rod smashed over with the sound of wind.
There was a muffled "pop" sound, and the iron rod passed through the ghost's body, as if it had hit a solid body.
The ghost was beaten so hard that it screamed and retreated several meters in an instant, even its figure faded a bit.
The whole audience was shocked. Everyone looked at the author, who was usually timid and would hide when things happened, but they didn't expect that he could really fight off ghosts.
Becky stood in the audience with bright eyes and admiration on his face, like he was looking at his own superhero.
Over there in the cemetery, Barnes and Demian worked hard to dig the grave. The soil was hard and cold, and their hands soon became blistered. There was mud between their fingernails, and they were so painful that they couldn't stop breathing.
The exhumed bones had a musty and earthy smell, and the sight of the three small bodies made people feel heavy.
The two of them suppressed their nausea, gathered the bones of the three children together, poured the alcohol they carried with them, and lit a fire while trembling.
The flames jumped up, and the orange-red flames licked the bones, making a crackling sound.
The moment the flames broke out, the three villains in the hotel who were holding knives to slash at Dean suddenly froze and let out shrill screams. Their bodies became transparent little by little, like smoke blown away by the wind, and finally completely dissipated in the air.
The sealed door unlocked with a click, the flickering lights in the lobby returned to normal, the biting chill instantly receded, and the heavy yin energy dissipated completely.
Dean and Sam leaned against the wall and gasped for air, their backs soaked with cold sweat.
At dawn, the police came and took away the body, and the fan meeting ended hastily. Shocked people left one after another. The entrance to the hotel was in a mess, and everyone had fear on their faces.
Barnes and Demian were standing at the door of the hotel, preparing to drive away. They had band-aids wrapped around their hands, and their faces were still pale, but their eyes were bright, as if they had completed some great mission.
Dean walked over, handed over two bottles of Coke, and said in a sincere tone, "Thank you very much this time. If it weren't for you, we would both be skinned."
Demian smiled, took the Coke, and asked, "What about you? What is your name?"
"Dean." He raised his eyebrows with a slight smile on his lips, "It's really Dean."
The two laughed loudly, patted his arm and said, "The acting looks pretty similar." Obviously they still didn't believe it. Dean also laughed and didn't defend himself. It's not that important whether it's true or not.
Before leaving, Demian suddenly stopped him and said seriously, "What you said before is wrong. The story of "Supernatural" is not bad at all. One of us sells stereos and the other repairs printers. We repeat the same thing every day. Life is terrible. There is nothing wrong with it. Looking forward to it. But being able to play Sam and Dean, wake up every day as if you are saving the world, and have someone who is willing to fight with you... Who doesn't want this kind of life? This story makes our life less difficult."
They drove away and the car gradually disappeared at the end of the road.
Dean stood there, silent for a few seconds, with a faint smile on his lips. The anger that had been blocked in his heart all night suddenly dissipated. It turned out that the life full of pain that he had avoided was actually the light that illuminated the ordinary life in the eyes of others. It turned out that those sufferings were not only torture, but also became the strength of others.
He suddenly felt that it wasn't that difficult to accept.
On the other side, Becky and Sam "broke up", saying that he and Chuck have found each other and will be the author's good wives from now on.
Sam held in his laughter and nodded vigorously, wishing them well sincerely.
Before leaving, she suddenly remembered something and slapped her head. "That's right! In Chapter 33, Bela didn't give Colt gun to Lilith at all! She gave it to a demon named Crowley, Lilith's right hand, who seemed to be her lover! There was a foreshadowing in the book! I guessed it for a long time at the time!"
Sam was stunned on the spot, and his heart skipped a beat - Colt gun! That was the ultimate weapon they had been looking for for a long time! It could kill demons and almost all supernatural creatures!
He immediately asked for details, his eyes lit up.
Becky told all the foreshadowings in the book, including where it was hinted at Bela's private possession of guns, and where Crowley's name was mentioned, and it was clear and logical. Chuck scratched his head guiltily beside him, saying that he had forgotten it after writing it down.
On the way back, Dean couldn't keep his mouth shut while driving. Colt gun, Crowley... Finally, they were no longer headless flies.
From the beginning of Apocalypse to now, they have been hiding and escaping, passively coping with the ensuing disasters. This is the first time that they have found a way to actively fight back.
Impala was driving on the road, and the sun shone in through the car window and fell on their faces.
It was afternoon when Impala parked in the yard of Bobby's house.
When the brothers pushed the door open and came in, they saw Bobby standing in front of the desk cleaning a shotgun. His waist was straight and there was no trace of any problem on his legs.
Bai Haorui was sitting next to him sorting out the spells. The yellow paper was neatly folded and the cinnabar pen was put aside.
Dean showed a big smile and took two steps forward, "Bobby? Can you stand?!"
Bobby raised his chin and kept wiping the gun. He said with a bit of pride in his tone, "This small injury is nothing. Haorui's craftsmanship is not bad. I can now run five kilometers with the gun on my shoulder."
The four of them sat around the desk, and Sam told Crowley all the clues. The more they talked, the more excited they became.
Bobby After hearing this, he immediately turned around and looked through the devil's files. He quickly pulled out a thick piece of information and slapped it on the table, causing dust to rise.
"Crowley, there are very few records about him." Bobby pointed to the photo in the file, "I only know that there is such a crossroads devil."
Bai Haorui tapped his fingertips on the table, his eyes calm. "Colt gun can kill almost all supernatural creatures, including demon knights. If we can get the gun back, we will have a way to kill the knights, and we don't have to be so passive anymore."
Dean clenched his fists and his eyes were shining. During this period of time, he was being chased and being overwhelmed by his fate. It seemed that he suddenly had an outlet to vent his frustration.
Bobby slapped the information on the table and said in a sonorous tone, just like when he assigned the demon hunting mission: "That's it! Next stop, find Crowley and bring back Colt gun!"
The late autumn twilight was like a gray cloth soaked in ice water, weighing heavily on the deserted crossroads on the outskirts of Missouri. The gravel ground was rustled by the cold wind carrying broken leaves.
Pendleton, wearing a silver-gray suit, squatted beside the pit, his knuckles turning white from clenching the tin box tightly.
He is a banker on the verge of bankruptcy. In three days, the property he has worked hard for half his life will be seized by the court. With no other choice, he remembered the legend of the devil's deal at the crossroads that he had heard, and exchanged his soul ten years later for a glimmer of life now.
Suddenly there was a soft sound of leather shoes scraping against gravel behind him, very slowly, with a careless sense of pressure.
Pendleton turned around suddenly and looked into a pair of dark brown eyes.
The man was slightly chubby, wearing a tailored black suit with a silk tie at the collar. The cufflinks were dark gold, glowing coldly in the dusk. He stood very firmly, with the arrogance of being in a position of superiority, looking at the ants at his feet.
There was a playful smile on the corner of his mouth, but there was no smile in his eyes.
"Mr. Pendleton, I guess?" He spoke in a low voice with a vague British accent, "My name is Crowley."
Pendleton frowned and shrank back, his butt almost touching the pit, with a tone of confusion. "The lady I was talking to before was a very young and beautiful lady. She said... the deal must be sealed with a kiss."
"That's right." Crowley took two steps forward, stepping on the gravel with his leather shoes, each step was like stepping on the apex of a person's heart.
The aura was so heavy that Pendleton was breathing heavily, "But for a big customer like you, I will give you my seal in person to give you enough face."
Pendleton's face turned red instantly, he waved his hands repeatedly, and leaned back as if he was hiding from something dirty. "No, no, I can't do it--"
"It's up to you." Crowley raised his eyebrows when he heard this, his tone was cold, and he had no patience at all. "You can hold on to your sixty-year old stubborn prejudice and wait for your bank to be in ruins. Or, give up that useless reserve and get the full bailout money." He raised his eyes slowly and counted in a drawled voice, "1...2..."
"Okay! Okay!" Pendleton gritted his teeth, closed his eyes tightly, and leaned forward with his neck stiffened.
There was no expression on Crowley's face, and he didn't even frown. He leaned over and touched his lips. With full perfunctory and disgust. The moment the transaction was completed, Pendleton groaned, as if all the strength in his body was taken away, staggered back two steps, and fell to the edge of the pit.
Crowley straightened up, wiped the corners of his mouth casually with the back of his hand, sneered, and said with disdain in his eyes, "Enjoy your windfall, and we will see you again in ten years."
After saying that, he turned around and left.
In the shadow of the bridge pier not far away, Castiel closed his eyes.
He was wearing his iconic windbreaker, leaning against a cold concrete pillar, his brows slightly furrowed.
He took out his old flip phone, dialed Dean, and said in a low voice, "Keep an eye on him. The transaction is in progress."
"'In progress'?" Dean's voice floated out from the receiver, with a bit of his usual careless teasing, "Okay, Huggy Bear, don't lose me."
"I won't get lost." Cass frowned, not understanding what that nickname meant and didn't ask further.
His eyes were firmly fixed on Crowley's black car. Watching the taillights disappear at the end of the road, he spread his wings and followed quietly.
We followed all the way to the outside of a manor with high walls. The wrought iron gate was closed tightly, the walls were covered with broken glass, and the whole house was hidden in the shadow of thick trees.
Cass wanted to get closer, but his shoulder suddenly hit an invisible barrier, like hitting a red-hot iron plate, with a burning sting. He staggered back and looked up - Enochian's protective charm was hidden in the cracks of the masonry, glowing with a faint black light, and the angel could not get close at all.
He called Dean again, with a bit of frustration in his tone. "I followed him to his residence, but Enochian protective magic was placed around the house, so I couldn't get in."
"It's okay, you did a good job." Dean's voice stabilized, and the roar of the engine came in the background, "Leave the rest to us."
South Dakota, Bobby's study room is lit with warm yellow lights.
Several people were busy performing their duties, no one spoke, there was only the light sound of paper being turned and metal colliding.
Bai Haorui is sitting on the wooden chair in the corner of the desk, with his back straight.
In front of him lay a stack of neatly cut pieces of lightning-strike jujube wood talisman paper. He held a wolf-hair cinnabar pen in his right hand. The purple-gold True Gang was condensed on the tip of the pen, as if wrapped in a layer of fine gold sand.
He lowered his head to draw the talisman, put down the pen very steadily, and moved his wrist lightly. The lines of the talisman were as smooth as flowing water, and every turn was as precise as if it had been measured with a caliper.
After each drawing, the talisman paper automatically glows with a light golden halo. The aura is restrained and not dazzling, but it exudes heavy power.
There is already a pile of drawn talisman papers half as tall as a man at his feet. They are neatly stacked according to the categories of Qingxin, Posha, Zhenxie, King Kong, and Pohuan. Each stack is tied with a red rope and is meticulous.
Bobby was sitting at the other end of the desk, rummaging through Crowley's demon files, and the old papers were making a clattering sound as he flipped through them.
Ellen came over and leaned against the bookshelf, wiping the shotgun in her hand. The barrel was polished by her, and her movements were neat and crisp, with the calmness of an old hunter.
Qiao squatted on the ground, with the equipment bag spread out in front of him. He was sorting out the daggers and salt bombs, his fingertips flying, filling up the magazines one by one.
Dean came close to Bai Haorui, bent down and stared at the runes written by him, and raised his eyebrows. "Okay, you can draw runes now as fast as the printer."
Bai Haorui Without raising his head, he pushed over three stacks of talisman papers with his left hand. Each stack was tied squarely with a red rope. "One stack for each person and put them close to each other." He paused, picked up a Five Emperor Coins with his fingertips and turned it gently. The copper coins glowed with a warm golden light under the light, spinning steadily and quickly, "I made a divination this morning. This trip will be very bad, and there will be a narrow escape."
The copper coins fell back into his palm. He raised his eyes and glanced at everyone. His tone was calm, but with unquestionable certainty. "It's not a dead end. As long as I'm here, I'll try to bring everyone back."
Qiao stood up with the equipment bag, raised his chin at him, with a bit of unwillingness to admit defeat in his eyes, and raised the corners of his mouth. "Don't underestimate people, Old Bai, I'm not weak now!"
Bai Haorui's mouth curled up slightly, briefly. He didn't answer, but took out a celadon vial from his sleeve pocket and stuffed it into Ellen's hand. "One pill at a time, serious injuries can be life-threatening. Keep it."
Ellen took the bottle, held it in his palm, nodded without saying thank you.
Those of them who are wallowing on the edge of a knife never need to talk about saving lives, they just keep it in their hearts.
Bai Haorui lowered his eyes and continued to draw symbols. The cinnabar pen fell on the paper and drew a dozen more Clear Heart Talisman.
He knew in his heart that Crowley was an old fox who was best at taking advantage of the situation. If he took the initiative to reveal his whereabouts this time, he would definitely not be a fat man who came to his doorstep.
Lucifer's mental bewitchment is also troublesome. Sam has demon blood flowing on his body. If his will is slightly loosened, he will be exploited. Draw a few more pictures of Clear Heart Talisman to be prepared.
When the night fell completely silent, Dean, Sam, and Qiao touched the outer wall of the manor. The wall was very high, and the broken glass on it glowed coldly in the moonlight.
Qiao straightened the hem of her windbreaker, let down her long hair, and walked to the door control on high heels. She took a deep breath, pressed the intercom, and said in a soft, helpless voice. "Hello? My car broke down on the side of the road. Can you do me a favor?"
The demon guard inside the door smiled seductively and said in a thick voice, "Come in, beauty, we will help you."
Qiao pretended to take a step back, with a bit of hesitation and fear in his tone. "Forget it, I'll wait by the car..."
"Don't talk nonsense." The guard's face changed instantly, his tone was stern, and his eyes turned completely black. He reached out and grabbed Qiao's wrist, trying to drag him in, "Come in!"
Qiao flipped his wrist and clasped the opponent's wrist accurately. With a crisp click, he directly removed his arm. The guard grunted in pain and fell to his knees with a "pop".
Sam and Dean immediately rushed out from the shadows on both sides. The devil knife in Sam's hand flashed with cold light and plunged neatly into the heart of another guard who came after hearing the sound. Black blood spattered on the gray-white wall, like a pool of ink.
Dean gave Qiao a thumbs up, and the three of them leaned against the wall and ducked into the manor gate.
The lights were on in the living room, the TV was on, and an old black-and-white documentary was playing. Crowley was standing in front of the TV with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his back to the door, and his figure was stretched by the light.
Suddenly there was a bang, and the electricity in the whole house was cut off, and the house was instantly plunged into darkness.
Instead of panicking, Crowley raised the corner of his mouth and smiled. He turned around slowly and spoke in the direction of Dean and the others in the darkness, "The Hardy Boys, have you finally found me? You guys are really slow."
Dean and Sam walked out of the shadows with their guns pointed at him steadily. Dean raised his chin, motioned to the Persian carpet on the ground, and said in a cold tone, "You stepped on Devil's Trap, don't move."
Crowley glanced down at the faint lines under the carpet, clicked his tongue, and said in a distressed tone, "Do you know how much this carpet cost me?"
As soon as he finished speaking, two demon men suddenly rushed out from the pillar behind the brothers, like two black shadows, and held their arms firmly.
The demon knife in Sam's hand fell to the ground with a clang. Dean struggled and cursed, watching Crowley slowly take out an ancient pistol, and pointed the black muzzle at himself.
"Wait--" Dean was about to speak.
Two gunshots, bang bang, made people's ears ring in the closed living room.
The two demons holding down Dean and Sam were shot in the center of their eyebrows, a black blood hole exploded in their foreheads, and they fell straight down.
Crowley blew the smoke from the gun, then casually placed the Colt handgun on the oak table next to him. His tone was as calm as if he was talking about the weather. "I want to talk to you alone."
Sam and Dean looked at each other and saw surprise in each other's eyes.
Dean frowned and walked over to pick up the gun. It was so heavy that it felt like it was in the hand, and the wood grain of the gun body was polished until it shined. It was the Colt they had been looking for for a long time.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean raised his eyes and stared at him, and also reacted, the gun was still pointed at him, "You could have buried this gun so that no one can find it, why did you deliberately let us know?"
"Because I want you to take this gun, go find Lucifer, and shoot him in the face." Crowley leaned on the table, took a sip of whiskey, and spoke in a tone as if he was discussing a small business.
Dean sneered, as if he heard a big joke, "Why? You devil want to kill the devil? Who would believe it if you tell me."
"You two are, at best, idiots who can do their job; at worst, you are functionally retarded." Crowley rolled his eyes, his tone a little impatient, as if he were talking to two stupid students who didn't know what they were doing, "Lucifer No He is a demon, he is an angel. He hates human beings so much that he treats you like a stinky skin that holds pus. So, how do you think he can treat us creatures well? In his eyes, we are just cannon fodder and slaves. When all humans die, it will be our turn next."
He spread his hands and said sincerely, "I'm just a businessman. I just want to go back to the days when I lived peacefully. So, it would be good for everyone to kill him."
Sam rubbed the cold gun body with his fingertips, raised his eyes and asked, "Do you know where Lucifer is?"
"On Thursday, he will go to Carthage at Missouri." Crowley answered simply, without any ambiguity.
Sam nodded, raised his hand, pointed the muzzle of the gun at Crowley's forehead, and pulled the trigger without hesitation - there was a click, and there was no bullet in the gun.
The air was quiet for two seconds.
Crowley stood expressionless for a while, then suddenly stood up and rolled his eyes, as if he finally remembered something important. "Oh, yes, I forgot, you may still need bullets."
Dean frowned and asked, "Aren't you afraid that we will lose? When the time comes, Lucifer will be the first to settle the score with you."