271-275

Chapter 271: Why? 

Gary Lester walked out of the building in broad daylight. 

Of course, he couldn't just walk out of the "Chute" on his own, nor could he bypass the Midnight Building's security system. Half an hour after Constantine brought him in, Midnight had already classified him as the highest-level surveillance target within the building. Or rather, anyone who entered the Chute was already under Midnight Building's top-tier surveillance. 

In fact, earlier that night, he was still trembling like a soft, rotten mess in the iron bars of the Chute, wishing Midnight would just give him a couple of shots to get rid of this agonizing and tormenting addiction. Other than that, he didn't want to think about anything else—because if his mind so much as stirred, he'd recall what Constantine had told him, and he'd realize that when the sun rose, he'd be used as bait, once again facing that terrifying Hunger Demon. 

How could I possibly survive against that monster? his subconscious kept asking him. How could Constantine and Midnight possibly defeat it? What if I accidentally get killed? What if it escapes from the bottle again? 

He couldn't answer these questions, and so they gnawed at his brain, keeping him awake. 

In fact, if it weren't for his relationship with Constantine, if it weren't for his willingness to entrust his life to his friend, if it weren't for his belief that Constantine would do everything he could to save him, with his cowardly nature, he would absolutely never have agreed to this dangerous plan. 

And just as his mind was in turmoil, and he was lost in thought, footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor. 

Is it Constantine? Or Midnight? 

He looked towards the door with nervous anticipation—if they were coming to find him now, perhaps it meant the plan would change, and he wouldn't have to face Namos as bait anymore? 

However, the person who appeared before him was the man he didn't know well, Cody. 

Lester, who had been somewhat excited, immediately felt incredibly dejected. He sat back down listlessly. He didn't know why the other person was looking for him, but he couldn't influence the plan made by Constantine and Midnight. In fact, Lester even doubted whether the other person knew the specific details of the plan, considering that Constantine and Midnight hadn't even brought him along when they came to see him. 

"I know you might be a little disappointed, but don't be disappointed yet." Cody calmly pulled out a lock-picking tool. "Constantine, stop lighting that cigarette, come over here and help me check the door lock for surveillance magic." 

"You're questioning a master of magical trickery." A familiar voice replied from behind Cody. "I checked the situation here the first time I came. Any surveillance magic here won't work now. As long as you're quick, we won't leave any traces—but are you sure your end is okay? Midnight isn't an idiot. We've been hacking the cameras for so long; he might notice." 

"I'll loop the footage for a while. In the surveillance feed, the scene here won't change at all. We can directly take him back, disguise him, change his clothes, and then send him out of the building." Cody shrugged. "Midnight might be a top-tier magician, but he won't have time to learn all this technical stuff." 

"What?" Lester, overjoyed, rushed to the bars, saw Constantine walk out, cigarette dangling, and asked excitedly, "I don't have to be bait for Namos anymore?" 

Constantine's expression wasn't particularly happy. He forced a smile and patted Lester's shoulder. "We... we changed the plan a bit. You go wait for us outside Midnight Building—remember not to wander off, or if Namos notices you, none of us can help you." 

At the mention of that name, Lester couldn't help but shiver. He asked Constantine, "Then, if the plan doesn't need me, how will you attract Namos?" 

Constantine still didn't answer, just took another drag from his cigarette. Cody, however, said, "I'll do it." 

Click, the locked door was opened by Cody. He nodded in satisfaction. The intermediate lock-picking skill worked pretty well; it could handle the Chute's lock—of course, this might also be because Midnight felt that a place holding zombie laborers was already secure enough and didn't need overly complex custom locks. 

"I'll go in disguised as you, and you'll go out disguised as me," Cody said. "Don't worry, my disguise skills are excellent; I can definitely get you past the security guards at the door." 

Facing the open door, Lester hesitated. "You... you'll take my place? But Namos is very dangerous..." 

"It can't handle me." Cody smiled. "I just gave it a sword slash earlier, don't worry—my self-preservation ability is stronger than yours." 

Lester, confused and skeptical, looked at Constantine. Seeing him remain silent, tacitly agreeing to the statement, he could only follow the two back into the room. 

The disguise didn't take long. Cody's technique was extremely fast. After Cody swapped clothes with him, only a mere five minutes had passed, and his appearance already looked about 80-90% similar to Cody's. 

As he was about to leave, Lester looked up at the silent Constantine, then at Cody, and said, "I don't know why you're willing to help me like this... but thank you, Cody. I owe you a huge favor." 

"That's not just a favor—but it's both for helping you and for helping him," Cody replied. "Go on, wait for us outside. By the time the sun rises, everything will be resolved. Tomorrow at this time, we'll already be on a plane." 

Lester left the room, and Cody watched him from the window until he was out of the building. Once he confirmed the plan was going smoothly, he took out a bottle of potion and placed a strand of hair inside. 

"Polyjuice Potion," he introduced to Constantine. "A potion made by a very great magician, it can completely transform a person into someone else." 

Constantine, however, didn't look at the potion in his hand. Instead, he asked, "Why?" 

"Why what?" 

"Why help a scumbag like Lester? I mean, yeah, he's one of my best mates, but I also know he really is a scumbag—this whole mess was his doing. So, wouldn't it be fitting for him to take responsibility?" 

"I said, it's not just to help him, but to help you too." 

"I'm a scumbag too," Constantine replied. "I'm well aware of that." 

He crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray, took a deep breath, and looked at Cody, his eyes filled with a deep anger. 

"Why go to such lengths for someone like that?" 

Chapter 272: A Scoundrel's Confession  

"Why go to such lengths? Does a rotten person like that deserve such a good ending?" 

Cody looked at Constantine and countered, "Why not? Do you think you don't deserve to be saved?" 

Constantine lit another cigarette and sneered, "I'm asking you, what makes you think you're qualified to step up and play the savior?" 

"I've always hated arrogant jerks like you. You always think the world can't turn without you, don't you? You believe you were born with a mission to save the world, that you're destined for great things. You can never stand by and watch others sacrifice themselves, yet you're more eager to die than anyone else. It's like you're the only saint, the only angel, the only Joan of Arc reincarnation in the whole world, and everyone else is selfish, shameless, and a coward who won't sacrifice." 

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he grew more agitated, pointing at Cody and cursing, "Did anyone ask you to save them? Did anyone ask you to sacrifice yourself in their place? What right do you have to arrogantly step in and deny everything about people like us? Don't you know, even bastards have backbone, and bastards have their own way of doing things! What right do you have to make my suffering seem worthless with your sacrifice?" 

"You think you saved someone, so you're noble, right? I know what you're thinking... We both know about that spell, don't we? We can both seal Namous, so it becomes very simple – either you do it, or I do it." 

"The struggle is mine, and the sacrifice is mine, you jerk!" Constantine roared. "I have to lie to my friend with my own mouth. I have to seal Namous into his body with my own hands, and then let him and that evil spirit gnaw at each other until death. That's practically me killing him with my own hands! I made such a huge decision to bear that pain and sin, and you didn't even struggle for it!" 

"You just came running over and told me, 'No need to betray your conscience and soul, we'll have a perfect ending! Just sacrifice you!' " 

He asked, syllable by syllable, "Why? Why you? Don't bastards deserve to sacrifice themselves?" 

Cody was silent for a moment. He hadn't expected Constantine to ask such a question. So he replied, "My thoughts... aren't that complicated." 

"We both know that sealing spell, that's true, so either you do it, or I do it – and the target is Lester." 

"He's your best friend, right? He said he could entrust his life to you. I was thinking, for you to lie to him with your own mouth, and kill him with your own hands, it would be too cruel, both for you and for him." 

"You made this decision to save New York, and that's precisely why I think you shouldn't bear this guilt. You're not a bad guy, Constantine, you're a good person who can't turn back." 

"I also don't want to do this in your place, because I'm selfish too – there are two types of people in the world: one type thinks sacrificing themselves is a pain, and one type thinks sacrificing others is a pain. And we're very similar, Constantine, the pain of sacrificing others is extraordinary for us." 

"The reason you're cursing me is because you had a second choice – you could have sacrificed yourself, because you're no longer the only one who knows the sealing spell. This ritual doesn't need you to personally perform it anymore. You had the choice of 'self-sacrifice,' but you didn't choose it; you still decided to sacrifice Lester." 

"The reason you're mad at me is because you realized you don't want to sacrifice others, but you don't want to sacrifice yourself either. You feel like you're no longer a good person who sacrifices to save the world; you feel like you're a hypocrite who's afraid to sacrifice yourself – and you hate hypocrites the most." 

Listening to Cody's words, a rush of blood went to Constantine's head. He gritted his teeth, took two steps forward, and fiercely grabbed Cody's collar. His fingers trembled slightly, whether from anger or shame: "Jerk! If you dare call me a hypocrite one more time, I swear I'll—" 

He stopped there. 

What would he do to Cody? Kill him? 

But Cody was already going to seal Namous into his own body; there was no need for Constantine to do anything. He would be gnawed into an empty husk by that vicious spirit from the inside. 

He had already decided to die. 

"Give me the potion, you bastard!" Constantine heard himself spit out those words: "Let me drink it! I'll show you if I'm a spineless wimp, a hypocrite, a coward!" 

He knew what those words meant, and he knew the soul-crushing pain of being gnawed by Namous. Therefore, he felt he must be insane to say something so angry. 

But at the same time, he felt an indescribable sense of relief deep inside, like a traveler who had walked for a long time finally setting down a thousand-pound burden, or like a patient who had suffered endlessly in bed finally welcoming the day of liberation. 

So his hand gripping Cody no longer trembled. 

"Give me the potion," he said. "You don't deserve to make decisions for me, you jerk." 

Perhaps Cody was right. For Constantine, death was terrifying, but sacrifice was a release. 

So Cody looked into Constantine's eyes and smiled. 

"Constantine, you're still a good person," Cody replied lightly. "So there's no way I'm letting you die." 

"What do you know about me? You think you understand me?" Constantine hated that smile and retorted fiercely, "You don't know how my father died, or what happened in Newcastle, do you?" 

"I did all that, you bastard! At fourteen, I killed my father with black magic with my own hands, and then at twenty-five, I killed a little girl with black magic, and my friends—" 

"Anne Marie, Frank, Benjamin... they all went to Newcastle with me, and they all died because of me. Lester was there too; that's where he got his addiction – and that little girl, Astra, she was dragged into hell, to suffer eternal torment..." 

"I did all that, do you understand? You jerk! You're saving a murderer! You're saving an idiot who caused countless deaths." 

Constantine continued to rage at Cody, but he didn't notice that his face was already streaming with tears. 

Rather than cursing Cody, he was cursing himself, that ignorant, arrogant, self-important soul. 

At the same time, it was also a confession, an atonement. 

So Cody patted his shoulder and smiled at him. 

"Then I'm even less likely to let you die, Constantine." 

"There are still so many souls waiting for you to save them." 

Chapter 273 The Agony 

A cigarette takes about four minutes to smoke. 

A bottle of whiskey might last two hours, tops. 

But what happens when you have nothing at all? How long can a person endure pain? 

In a dark, tiny room, a figure sat quietly on the floor, motionless and silent, looking as if he were dead. If not for the occasional violent spasm caused by intense pain, everyone would have thought he was truly gone. 

A tiny spark of light flared in the darkness, and as a wisp of smoke drifted out, a second figure in the shadows stirred. "Want some whiskey?" 

"No thanks!" 

Cody's voice was hoarse and strained. Most of his focus was on battling the excruciating pain of being gnawed from the inside and the overwhelming weakness. Speaking wasn't easy. 

"Don't push yourself so hard." Constantine took a swig of his drink, then set the whiskey bottle in the corner. "Your body is much stronger than Lester's. That thing will take at least a day to eat you alive—this is going to be a long fight." 

"Drinking makes it easy to lose control." Cody desperately tried to suppress the urge to go mad and struggle from the pain. He silently congratulated himself, knowing that without the system, he absolutely couldn't have endured such bone-piercing agony. He'd probably be insane by now. 

[Detected a slow increase in your heart rate and blood pressure. Pain is currently suppressed to 70% of normal. Would you like to increase suppression to 50%?] 

"No, thank you." 

[Tip: Adjusting pain suppression will not affect the cost for this session, which remains 10,000 asset points.] 

"I'm not—cough, cough—worried about the money." 

He wasn't entirely unconcerned about money, but Cody did indeed decline the system's thoughtful offer for another reason. He had already grown used to dying and getting injured in the system's combat simulations. At the time, he thought that adapting to that level of pain beforehand would be enough to ignore it in real combat. 

"I was wrong, cough, cough." Cody clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "That pain? It was nothing!" 

In this universe, pain is probably as unavoidable as combat. So, it's better to adapt early to avoid being caught off guard in a life-or-death situation next time. 

That being said— 

"It really hurts, ah!" 

Cody sat in the dark, trying his best to suppress the urge to cry out, so others wouldn't hear him. 

The three of them hadn't actually gone to Sudan. He was currently in one of Constantine's secret safe houses, which was temporarily being used as a cage. Cody had gone into the small prison in the basement to prevent him from going berserk from the pain and tearing the whole house apart. 

However, it seemed that decision wasn't very significant. With the system's help, Cody's sanity was barely holding its own against the feeling of agony. 

Creak— 

A beam of light suddenly appeared in the basement, and a man timidly walked down. 

"Yo, John, I bought the whiskey, morphine, and cigarettes, and some food..." 

Lester, using the light, secretly glanced at Cody in pain and then felt too ashamed to look again. By now, he knew that Cody had sealed Namo as a vessel in his place. That phrase, "you owe me a life," sounded understated but weighed a ton. 

"Got it." Constantine took a drag from his cigarette and patted his old friend's shoulder. "Leave the morphine for me. You go upstairs... Remember, don't secretly inject yourself with that stuff." 

Lester nodded silently and went back upstairs. He no longer had a physical addiction, and if he could overcome the urge to relapse, he could become a normal person again. However, neither Cody nor Constantine had much hope for that. It was normal; they knew Lester's willpower all too well. 

"Self-sacrifice driven by wishful thinking is worthless, Cody." Amidst the flickering spark, Constantine slowly exhaled a puff of smoke. "To make someone better, not only do they need the desire to improve, but you also need the means and power to discipline them." 

"Well said, you must rarely be fooled by bad women." At this point, Cody was gradually getting used to this level of pain, and his sentences became more fluent. "But your cigarettes are really harsh. Can you not smoke?" 

"Damn it..." Constantine cursed in annoyance, stepping on his cigarette butt. "I'll go upstairs to smoke." 

"Smoke less, smoking is bad for your health." 

"You sound just like those politicians. Trying to get into the civil service at Whitehall?" Constantine scoffed. "With all those ritual tattoos, the BBC would love to report, 'Free Asian Tattoo Artist Joins British Politics,' 'We Should See Everyone with Equality'—" 

"Smoking bans are a matter for the collective, Conzi—you probably won't fit in with the crowd this lifetime," Cody said. "What I mean is, at the rate you're smoking, you might not live to see that policy implemented." 

"F**k you, I'll live to be a hundred." 

Constantine gave him the middle finger, really put his cigarette pack back in his pocket, and picked up the whiskey again. 

"Drink less alcohol too." 

"Damn it." Constantine put down the bottle too and picked up the morphine. "I'll give you a shot and then go straight upstairs." 

"I don't need morphine right now, see, I'm pretty clear-headed." 

"..." 

Not many people could leave Constantine speechless, and Cody couldn't help but chuckle. He had probably unlocked a rare achievement. 

The next day. 

Cody's breathing was steady; he seemed to have adapted to the pain. 

[Pain is currently suppressed to 80% of normal.] 

"I can take more," he thought. "Add one percent." 

As soon as he spoke, the pain of countless insects gnawing at his body intensified by another degree. 

"Hmph—" 

Cody barely managed to brace himself against the ground, supporting his body. 

"If you can't take it, just get a shot." 

Constantine's voice rang out again. He was still in the basement today. 

"No need." 

Constantine shrugged. He instinctively reached for a cigarette but realized the pack was full of Pocky. 

"Damn it... This is what you call 'good cigarettes'?" 

"Pocky with a smoke flavor. Something good you can't buy anywhere else." 

Constantine pulled one out and put it in his mouth. Sure enough, a faint smoky flavor spread across his tongue and through his nasal cavity. 

"Normally, Namo's feeding times are pretty consistent," he said. "A normal person would have been completely consumed by noon today. I didn't expect you to last this long." 

"Maybe it's because my meat is tougher," Cody replied. "It can't chew through me." 

"It makes no difference. Sooner or later, it's just a matter of time." 

Constantine stopped speaking after that. He saw four ghosts standing silently beside Cody, praying for him, hoping to alleviate his pain. 

Useless, Constantine thought—but let them be. 

Chapter 274: Transcending Life and Death 

Day Three 

Cody sat motionless on the ground, his body considerably thinner now. The pain was dialed up to one hundred percent, but he was too weak to scream, which was probably a blessing in disguise. 

"Are you dead yet?" 

Having finished the Pocky Cody gave him, Constantine casually took a cigarette from his pack and put it in his mouth, though he didn't light it. 

"Not yet." 

Cody's voice sounded hollow and weak. Or rather, the fact that he could still make a sound at all was quite remarkable. 

"You're definitely not human. It's been three days, and you haven't even had water. Even without that Namo Si, most people would be done for by now." 

Cody smiled at Constantine. "I'm tougher to chew." 

He wasn't lying. Thanks to his enhanced intermediate physical qualities, Cody's vitality and physical constitution were far superior to an average person's, allowing him to endure Namo Si's consumption for a longer time. In all recorded cases of victims, from the moment the swarm infiltrated their bodies to the awakening of increased appetite and then transforming into a mere husk, it typically took about a day and a half. Cody could roughly sense that Namo Si couldn't devour him that quickly. 

A moment later, Constantine suddenly asked, "If we go see that old shaman, maybe he..." 

"He can't do anything, otherwise he wouldn't let his own people be sacrifices." Cody calmly replied, "Besides, haven't you already sent Lester to find him?" 

Constantine fell silent for a moment, then offered a bottle of water to his lips. 

"No, thanks." 

"It's just water." 

"Drinking it would make me live longer, which would give Namo Si more time to torment me," Cody answered. "Forget it, better a quick end than prolonged agony." 

"Damn it..." 

"There's no other way," Cody calmly replied. "Namo Si's life is tied to its vessel. If I don't die, my emotions and vitality will become the last bit of nourishment keeping it alive." 

The basement fell silent once more. 

Day Four 

Cody's body had completely shriveled, his skin loosely draped over his bones, making him look like a dried mummy. 

"Is he dead?" 

Constantine paused, his question unanswered. But after a moment, Cody's voice still rang out. 

"No." 

Getting an answer, he shrugged and sat back down. 

In reality, however, that voice wasn't Cody's; his vocal cords were already gone. "Ten dollars for a system-generated voice," Cody thought. He'd used it once before, and it worked quite well. He wanted to open his eyes and look around, but everything was pitch black—days of dehydration and being devoured had left him almost unable to see. At this time yesterday, he had opened his eyes, and though his vision was blurry, he could vaguely make out four pale figures praying around him. Were they still there? 

Day Five 

The Namo Si inside Cody had stopped gnawing at him. Its head and skin, covered in engravings, were impossible for it to bite, and his faint vitality and unfluctuating emotions couldn't stimulate its appetite. It was almost driven mad by its own wild, surging hunger—which wasn't surprising, as it was Namo Si, a hunger spirit. Its very essence was endless greed and appetite; these were its fundamental components, and it couldn't suppress this urge. Just as humans, no matter how hard they try, can't stop the blood from flowing in their bodies or their hearts from beating, because these are the body's instincts. To satisfy this desire, it would chew on anything. 

Including itself. 

The sound of voracious feasting echoed within Cody's body; Namo Si had begun to devour itself. 

"Dead?" 

"No." 

Cody still retained his last bit of consciousness, though not much, it wasn't absent. He heard the sound of Namo Si gnawing on itself and wanted to smile, but moving his mouth was too much effort; he couldn't do it. So he silently listened to the hunger spirit's life count down. 

Day Six 

The hunger spirit's gnawing grew more frantic. Namo Si, having started to devour itself, suddenly discovered how incredibly delicious it was. Why hadn't it thought of tasting itself before? So, it completely unleashed its greed and appetite, gnawing even more wildly. The buzzing sound inside its body was now a chaotic mess, no longer harmonious. Every single insect was fighting and devouring each other, completely indulging their primal urges. 

Cody, however, heard only silence. 

"Can't hear anything," his remaining consciousness murmured. "System." 

The familiar mechanical voice echoed in his ear, and for some reason, it felt incredibly reassuring now. 

[I'm here.] 

"What day is it?" 

[Sixth day.] 

"Is Constantine still here?" 

[Yes.] 

"If he asks, tell him I'm not dead yet." 

[Understood.] 

"By the way, I've always had a question—what would happen to you if I really died?" 

[Considering your items and asset points, as well as your current mission, your true death rate is three-thousandths.] 

"Just hypothetically, what if I died?" 

[Don't die.] 

Day Seven 

Cody's thoughts were almost completely stagnant. The gnawing sounds of Namo Si had almost vanished. Millions of voices had devoured each other, most ceasing to exist, with only a few remaining, emitting a weak, irritating hum that posed no threat. 

The system's voice rang out again. 

[As per your previous setting, the system reminds you—today is the seventh day.] 

It took a while for Cody's brain to process what the system had said. He thought for a very long time, with extremely slow thoughts, and asked, "I die today?" 

[According to calculations, yes.] 

"...Water." 

[Understood.] 

A cool sensation suddenly moisturized his throat, replenishing his body's parched, dehydrated cells. In that instant, Cody's mind was re-stimulated; he almost felt alive again. 

"Give me... some nutrition," he slowly thought. "I'm not some religious nut; I don't want to die on the seventh day. I want to die tomorrow instead." 

[Understood.] 

A sweet taste began to spread in his mouth. He didn't know what the system had given him, but it certainly wasn't a Snickers—he no longer had a stomach. When Cody regained a bit of sensation, he immediately noticed Namo Si's condition inside his body. 

Heh, so you have your day too. 

His mood improved, and then he heard Constantine lighting a cigarette. Clearly, the guy thought he was dead, so the first thing he did was light up a cigarette—it wouldn't bother him anymore anyway. 

"I knew it," Cody muttered, a bit exasperated. "That guy will never quit smoking in this lifetime." 

Just then, a wisp of smoke drifted into his nostrils; the guy had walked over to him. Constantine reached out but found no pulse. He silently placed a cigarette in the corpse's mouth. 

"You can finally rest, Cody." 

"Hey, what the—no!" 

Before Cody could reply, he felt a strong burst of smoke rush into his body, eroding the last bit of fragile vitality. And at the same time, Namo Si lost all its nourishment and completely vanished. 

Cody immediately saw stars; a tiny golden figure suddenly appeared in his vision, then rapidly disappeared. 

[Undying Totem has activated.] 

[Achievement unlocked—Transcending Life and Death.] 

Chapter 275: Job Done 

"Cough, cough—you damn Constantine!" 

Just as Constantine was smoking and silently grieving over Cody's "corpse," Cody suddenly jolted up with a shout. This unexpected turn almost made old Con-Man drop his cigarette. 

"Holy—Jesus Christ!" 

"Jesus your head..." Cody sprang up. He spit out the cigarette butt, rubbed his head, and complained with a frown, "Keep it down, you're too loud—I told you I don't smoke, are you hard of hearing?" 

Constantine eyed the now-sitting-up Cody with skepticism. It was only then that he realized his friend's shriveled skin had plumped up again, his dry eyeballs regained moisture, and his hoarse, hollow voice returned to normal speech. 

This was completely normal; the Immortal Totem had a healing effect after revival. 

[Immortal Totem 

Price: 250,000 USD Asset Points 

Note: When you die, simply holding this item will automatically activate it. 

Restores your life to one point, clears all status effects, and grants you Level 1 Fire Resistance, Level 2 Health Regeneration for 40 seconds, and Level 2 Damage Absorption for 5 seconds (5 seconds of additional maximum health) – the icon automatically popping up in your vision indicates activation. 

Note 2: Who knows which little genius made it into a phone charm, but to be fair, at least it's always on hand.] 

"Did smoking bring you back to life?" 

"No, smoking killed me," Cody corrected. "I didn't say I was dead then, why were you so eager to light that cigarette for me?" 

"You didn't even have a pulse! How dense would I have to be to ask again?" 

Constantine's face was a picture of disbelief. "And what the hell was that? The Son of God descended? A miracle of resurrection after seven days of suffering?" 

He raised his hand and checked his watch. It was past midnight – Sunday, exactly. 

"If I resurrected in three days, you'd be talking about the three days on the cross," Cody shrugged. "Where are there so many miracles in the world? Besides, I'm an atheist, Constantine. I'm Chinese – if someone like me could be the Son of God, it just means God truly has no one else left." 

"Didn't you guys have some Hong what's-his-name... Heavenly Father killing Heavenly Brother?" 

"Whoa, stop right there! I don't want to start a war!" 

As they chatted, Constantine unlocked the basement door. He carefully examined Cody, making sure there was no halo behind his head, and still unwilling to give up, asked, "Did you see anything special the moment you died? Like someone with a halo behind their head, or winged bird-people or something?" 

Cody rolled his eyes. "The moment I died, all I could smell was cigarette smoke in my nostrils." 

The two walked up to the first floor, just as Lester came in through the door carrying cigarettes and liquor. He froze when he saw the two of them emerging from the basement. 

Three pairs of eyes, looking at each other, fell into a brief and eerie silence. 

Finally, after the silence lasted less than half a minute, Lester's scream nearly took the roof off the house. 

"Ahhh—Jesus Christ!" 

"...There's a reason you two became brothers-in-arms through thick and thin." 

Constantine shook his head helplessly. After this commotion, this safe house was probably compromised and would likely only be used as a regular residence from now on. 

Lester finally stopped screaming. He had gone to check on Cody that very noon and thought he was dead. And earlier in Sudan, the old shaman had told him the "host" was bound to die, so the sight before him now felt like witnessing a legend. 

"Are you a saint?" he knelt devoutly on the ground, asking Cody, "Were you sent by God to save me?" 

Cody sighed. He was getting a bit tired of explaining, so he simply stopped and instead asked, "Did you see the news? About Texas?" 

"No, why? What happened?" 

"Last Wednesday night, the roof of a church in Texas collapsed. There were 34 believers inside, singing hymns." 

Hearing that, Lester was speechless for a moment, then quietly stood up from the ground. "...You're a bit too extreme." 

"Or maybe he's one of those God-fans turned God-haters, like a few of the Satans," Constantine added with a sarcastic jab. "Most people don't like contradicting God that much – though, I've met Lucifer, and he definitely doesn't have an Eastern face." 

"Believing in things that are beautiful and practical, and blindly trusting in things that are authoritative and vague, are two different matters," Cody replied. "I don't dislike reverence for deities; I just dislike false authority and fraudsters who use God's name for their own selfish gain." 

"Well said," Constantine agreed. "Next time, I'll take you to meet Gabriel, that snobbish scumbag, and let that birdman get a taste of being chewed out by a 'saint'." 

"Don't even start. Forget his character, at least he has authority in terms of power." 

Ring, ring— 

Constantine's phone suddenly rang. He looked at the caller ID, didn't bother to step away, and answered the call directly. 

"Constantine, it's been seven days," Midnight's voice came through the phone. "Has Namous not self-destructed yet?" 

Cody immediately gave Constantine an "okay" gesture, indicating that Namous was completely dead. 

"Dead, absolutely dead. You can rest easy – we all can," Constantine replied. "If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up." 

"Constantine," Midnight continued on the other end of the line. "We are all people of power. Grief is a luxury – as a magician, one must shed one's humanity, or sooner or later, one will suffer a mental breakdown." 

"I don't want to hear your damn theories, Papa Midnight," Constantine retorted. "Lester survived, just as I said. That old shaman's ancient magic has some real tricks up its sleeve. In his territory, his power can completely exceed your and my imagination." 

"Oh, so the addict was saved by him, then?" 

"Yeah, and if you ever run into a demon and kick the bucket, he can even put flowers on your grave." 

"I don't have time to banter with you, Constantine. No one stays lucky forever. You'll understand my advice eventually." 

"Midnight, I'd rather die than become a heartless bastard like you." 

Constantine hung up the phone decisively. He smugly waved his phone at the two beside him. "See that? A master trickster at work." 

"That's good too, I guess," Cody shrugged. "Since everything's wrapped up here, I should head back to Gotham." 

[Ding!] 

[Gig Completed: Tears of the Despicable] 

[Special Skill Acquired: Stowaway]