"Instantaneous movement! So this is Raven!"
Outside the school.
Ian finally got his Haagen-Dazs.
9 cups.
No more, no less.
Being a man of principle, he naturally remembered to share one with the girl who had helped him earlier.
"Thank you, Rachel. You are a true superhero too." Ian sincerely expressed his gratitude. The girl's eyes looked complicated upon hearing his praise.
"A superhero, huh..."
Rachel seemed somewhat touched.
Countless indescribable thoughts welled up in her heart. How should one put it? She knew too little about Ian and clearly didn't realize that Ian would compliment anyone he met in this manner.
"The last time I ate something this delicious was the last time... The small crystal snacks I traded for the ghost with my Godfather were just as delicious." Ian licked his spoon, looking lost in remembrance.
"Ghost? What ghost?" Rachel, sitting across from Ian, had no mind for ice cream. She was staring at Ian, deep in thought, and was now piqued by Ian's words.
Ghost and snack.
These were clearly not two words that should be connected.
"A deceitful ghost, shaped like a nun, but I bet it's one hundred percent not human..." Ian recounted his experience of being conned.
Hearing this.
Rachel's pupils immediately constricted sharply.
"Like this?"
She dipped her finger in a little coffee and drew a realistic doodle on the table.
"Mm, mm, exactly."
Ian complimented her drawing skills.
"You've encountered it too?"
The boy's tone carried a hint of surprise.
"I've seen it in books."
Rachel stared at Ian, examining him closely for a long time.
"That is Valak, one of the Seventy-Two Demons of the Lesser Key of Solomon... You probably encountered a projection of Him in the mortal realm." The girl spoke with a quiet, penetrating tone, staring straight at Ian.
"Seventy-Two Demon Gods!?"
Ian was momentarily stunned.
His hand began to tremble slightly.
Just when Rachel thought he might be scared.
"I see!"
The boy slapped his head.
"No wonder the little sweet snack I traded for Him was melt-in-your-mouth delicious! Extremely nourishing!"
He truly felt enlightened this time. No wonder the bull-headed demon couldn't be exchanged for his Godfather's reward—it was because the demon's quality wasn't high enough to be considered advanced synthesis material!
"??????"
Rachel stared blankly at the still-excited Ian. She felt that a normal person shouldn't react this way—well, she already knew that the boy's way of thinking wasn't normal.
"Don't you realize what effect this event will have on you?" Rachel wanted to remind Ian that creatures that could be called Demon Gods were terrifying beings with extremely strong tendencies for revenge.
However.
"I realize, I realize."
Ian nodded vigorously.
"This is truly significant for me—thank you, Rachel, my favorite sharer of information. You've made me realize that there are at least seventy-two more ghosts in this world that can be traded with my Godfather for snacks!" His tone carried a hint of excitement.
How could he not be excited?
There were more than just seventy-two!
If the so-called Demon Gods could keep creating projections, Ian felt he might have found a true perpetual motion machine! He might not have to worry about not being strong enough in the future!
"No... that's not what I meant at all." Rachel was baffled. She found that she truly couldn't keep up with Ian's thought process at all.
But Ian didn't care about that.
"I have to learn magic!"
Ian's determination to learn magic was unwavering.
He was not Martin Luther King Jr.
But that didn't stop him from having a real dream right now—he hoped to somehow domesticate a Demon God so he could use the Demon God's projections for daily sacrifices!
This was clearly not an easy task, but difficult things were worth doing, weren't they? At this moment, the boy already had his own American Dream.
"You can't learn my magic."
Rachel was trying her best to keep up with Ian's thinking.
However.
"I'm not learning your magic... I just want to touch your forehead again, the glowing kind. Yes, just like that... Why does your face look so flushed?" Ian, longing to be corrupted by Trigon's magic, didn't get his wish, as Rachel instantly teleported away, leaving only an empty chair behind.
"What a pity."
Ian was a little disappointed.
He casually picked up the ice cream the girl had only taken one bite of. Sticking to the traditional concept of not wasting food, he put the ice cream into the plastic box he had kept in his arms.
"Ah~ open wide."
Ian ignored the bull's head's cursing.
He repaid hostility with kindness.
He forcibly fed the demon's head a portion of ice cream.
"It didn't leak out?"
He observed briefly.
He discovered a scientifically impossible, marvelous phenomenon.
Therefore.
"Finally, a place to recycle the broccoli my mom cooks! I could even start a garbage recycling company with you!" Ian's previous disappointment vanished, and he became genuinely happy.
He realized he had acquired a dedicated trash can.
Now he was truly rich.
"You damned human!"
The bull's head roared in terror.
But Ian plugged its mouth once more.
...
Returning to school.
As expected.
Due to Mr. White's dismemberment, the school announced a temporary half-day holiday. Ian tucked the oranges he had bought into his pocket and hummed a tune as he headed to the gym he had been eyeing earlier.
Just after Ian and most students had left the school.
"Poor White. He was a good man, always sharing the best little medicines with us... I mean, he really shouldn't have died so miserably."
Some teachers remained at the school, grieving profoundly while assisting the police with the investigation.
He was genuinely mournful.
"Excuse me, do you know if the deceased had any enemies?" The police clearly suspected this was a premeditated murder or a campus terrorist attack orchestrated by some super-lunatic.
"Let me think. Miss Lucy seemed to have a conflict with him, and I'm not gossiping, but..." Some teachers played out a traditional office skill.
Preparing to take the opportunity to badmouth people they disliked.
Just then.
A man in a trench coat with stubble entered the school gate.
"Damn it! I can't get in! My psychic card was carelessly stolen by Superman a while ago! Superheroes are utterly shameless!" Constantine instinctively patted his pocket but couldn't find his familiar old friend.
His expression was exasperated.
"I really don't want to come back! Metropolis and I clash!" Constantine shouted at the sky like a madman, looking out at the campus where he sensed demonic energy.
The next moment.
Everything around seemed to be put on pause. Pedestrians and vehicles, and even the light drizzle, seemed to flow in extremely slow motion.
"Whoosh~"
The sound of wings flapping appeared.
A passing white man suddenly turned black.
It was Constantine's old acquaintance—an Angel with the dark skin tone.
"You must stay here, Constantine. The Darkness is coming. If you want to redeem your soul, you must start your investigation from where it is rising!"
The black Angel's tone was serious.
It was precisely because of his appearance.
That the world's operation slowed down.
"If Darkness is going to rise, it'll rise from Los Angeles. Don't pretend you don't know who's in that place!" Constantine angrily snapped back at the Angel without any politeness.
"Lucifer is not the threat. The disaster we face is." The Angel's tone was heavy. His words made the usually sharp-witted Constantine grasp an important detail.
"We?"
He looked at the Angel suspiciously.
The Angel did not respond.
"Do what you must."
He simply reminded him once more.
"Alright, I'll find out what terrifies you lofty masters so much." Constantine sighed and chose to compromise.
His soul was his weakness.
"Good."
The Angel nodded.
Constantine continued, stating a condition. "But first, you have to ensure Superman won't come looking for trouble with me again. He even went to Gotham yesterday, arrested me, and gave me a warning!"
"That despicable thief! He still won't admit to stealing my psychic card! That lying superhero is morally bankrupt!" Even in his cursing, Constantine only dared to curse softly.
As if the world slowing down couldn't give him much sense of security.
"You don't need to worry about Superman. He will only teach you a lesson once." The Angel chuckled lightly. As Constantine remained suspicious, he immediately changed the subject.
"The child you kidnapped is the trouble you should be worried about—poor Constantine, you just have a talent for attracting creatures you shouldn't mess with." The Angel's golden eyes were full of pity. This action made Constantine's heart jump.
A bad premonition rushed to his mind.
"What do you mean?"
Constantine hurriedly pressed.
"The meaning is simple... Before the Lord returns, if that boy captures you, don't mention Heaven, and don't mention me, but you can say you were tempted by Lucifer."
"Tell Him to go find our King of Hell. I trust Lucifer can deal with Him."
The Angel spoke solemnly.
"Huh?"
Before Constantine could react.
The Angel had vanished.
The passerby returned to their original skin tone, and the world resumed normal operation. Though still completely baffled, Constantine felt a chill down his spine from the Angel's choice of words.
"It was all Charles! It was all his independent kidnapping plan! I'm innocent—if I hand Charles over now, could I possibly earn a tiny bit of reprieve?"
He shouted at the sky.
He received no response.
Only passersby looking at him like he was an idiot.
***
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