256-260

Chapter 256: Never Look Back 

"The jungle guerrillas found him, sold him to slave traders for some tobacco—I didn't see that part." 

"I was a fool. I should have stayed and watched him walk to his death." 

The emaciated old man covered his face with his hands. Reliving that cruel past was already painful, but the child's senseless sacrifice made him feel even more despair and shame. 

Constantine patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Actually, in our line of work, 'never look back' is gospel." 

Cody wiped away his tears. Seeing the priest wearily wave his hand, signaling them to leave, he and Constantine walked out of the tent. 

"I never want to go through something like that again," he said to Constantine. "My body out of control, my mind scattered, completely defenseless against external threats... having to watch myself do such things with my own hands." 

Constantine gave a bitter smile and lit a cigarette. "Do you know why I say 'never look back'?" 

"...Why?" 

"Because there are too many damn ghosts following behind." 

Under the blood-red sunset, their two black silhouettes stretched long, long across the desolate Gobi desert. 

Constantine walked down the small mountain path. At this moment, the herbs were still wreaking havoc in his stomach, making his legs as soft as noodles. 

"How did you do it?" He turned to look at Cody. If the man hadn't shed tears in the tent just now, he would have almost thought he was completely unaffected by the herbs, or hadn't even taken them. 

"What?" 

"Doesn't your stomach hurt? Aren't your legs weak?" 

"My constitution is pretty good," Cody replied. "You might think I'm thin, but actually, my strength and speed are superior to many people." 

"What, are you some kind of super-human from outer space? Or a super-soldier injected with military serum?" 

"It's not that exaggerated, just enough to survive in Gotham—but never mind that, what's next?" 

"Next?" Constantine shrugged. "Next, you pay me the rest of the fee." 

"That's easy enough." 

Cody had no objection to this. It was a clearly priced contract; naturally, the payment should be made after clarifying the matter. 

After he completed the transfer on his phone, he continued to ask, "Now what?" 

"Now, we go our separate ways." 

"?" 

"What's wrong, is there a problem?" Constantine asked. "Your commission was to investigate the whole story, and now the truth is out. You've also given candy to those children. Your curiosity and good will have been satisfied. Isn't that enough?" 

"But the main point now is Nomos. How should he be dealt with?" 

Constantine shrugged. "If you want to deal with him, that's a different price." 

"Is that my decision to deal with him? You have to deal with him, right? Gary Lester was the first one to release him; he's probably already targeted, isn't he? And in Africa, he was already rampaging through a village, and now his power has started to grow even further. If he continues to grow, the next to suffer will be a town, or even a city." 

Cody concluded, "So, you must solve this, and not only that, you need to act quickly. Otherwise, Nomos will eventually evolve into a powerful hungry spirit that can't be handled." 

"You're right," Constantine chuckled. "Since I was going to deal with it anyway, I can let you off with just forty thousand dollars." 

Cody couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. "Constantine, you're not that hard up for cash, are you?" 

"I'm not short on money," Constantine sneered. "I just don't like five-hundred-dollar cold drinks." 

"Fine, you better not fall into my hands again. Next time, the drink will be five thousand dollars." 

The flight leaving Africa cut through the sky. There was not a single cloud or speck of moisture, only an endless expanse of blue. 

Cody looked down from the plane window and saw black figures walking wearily across the dry, cracked earth. As the plane climbed higher, these figures gradually became tiny black specks, like insects. 

"People look like bugs, don't they?" 

Constantine sat beside him, gazing calmly at the land. "But that's how the world is; it never wavers according to human will." 

"Stop trying to be profound, you mystic. Go eat your airplane food." 

At the mention of airplane food, Constantine's face immediately contorted in pain. They had left in a hurry this time, and he had forgotten to buy sandwiches for the flight. 

Cody ignored him, pulling a burger from his pocket and eating it right in front of him. 

For the rest of the day, the two remained mostly on the plane. After arriving in London, they went to a restaurant and learned that the fat man had surprisingly woken up in the hospital and had already flown to New York yesterday. 

"I knew it," Constantine sighed. "Nomos is in New York now, which is why there are the same hungry spirit incidents happening there as here." 

"But why would he go to New York?" 

"That magical bottle that can trap him was mailed there." 

"Pffft..." 

Constantine sent Chas home, then he and Cody picked up Lester from the house. After a quick explanation to Mrs. M, 

The three boarded a flight to New York again. Cody noticed that there were no flies around Lester, perhaps because Constantine's room had some defensive magic. Regardless, the unlucky guy was certainly safe now. 

He glanced at Constantine, who was still lost in thought, likely still dwelling on the events in Africa. This struck him as odd, as his stereotypical impression of Constantine wasn't that of a particularly compassionate person. Could he really be that sympathetic? 

Thirty-six hours later, on the Brooklyn Bridge in New York, USA. 

The taxi's radio crackled, the host's voice chirping away as if he weren't reporting real news, but a thrilling supernatural novel. 

"Citizens, do you know what's happening out there?! Just today, Fifth-Seventh Avenue jeweler Bruce Parker died swallowing gems in his display window; another boss tried to devour his secretary alive in his own office—friends, only in New York can you hear such strange tales! Don't change the channel! We'll bring you more detailed information soon!" 

As each news report came over the radio, Cody's heart sank further. In just two short days, the sustenance Nomos had gained in this city was terrifying. 

It wouldn't be long before this city became its playground, a true Pandemonium. 

Chapter 257: Midnite's Special Welcome Ceremony 

"That damn perverted monster!" 

Listening to the news on the radio, the taxi driver instantly started cursing. "First, it was the damn stock market crashing, then the damn egg prices skyrocketing, and now what the hell is this new demon?!" 

Lester in the back seat, however, couldn't care less about his complaints. He listened to the news on the radio, terrified, and reached out to hug his head. 

"Nomos! Nomos!" 

He couldn't help but grab Constantine's arm, trembling as he asked, "Nomos is here, right? I'm so scared, John, I'm so scared..." 

Constantine sat beside him, expressionless. He was too tired to explain anymore—Lester hadn't stopped talking since they took off from Heathrow in London. 

If it weren't for the fact that Lester was his friend, Constantine would have really wanted to shout, "Shut up, you blabbering moron!" 

Holding out until now, Constantine was extremely annoyed. He seriously wanted to pull out a gun and just shoot Lester—at least fantasizing about such a scene helped him relieve stress. 

"John, does Papa Midnite have any powder? I really need that stuff..." 

Cody sighed and put his hat back on Lester's head. "Lester, control yourself. With me here, I won't allow you to take even one milligram of powder." 

Meanwhile, the radio's sound had turned into a debate between a medical expert and a theologian. 

"The victims' characteristic is an extremely strong desire to devour objects they're obsessed with. It could be behavioral abnormalities caused by a viral infection..." 

"Nonsense! This is divine punishment from my Lord for sinners, a warning to the world, a premonition of justice descending!" 

"Dr. Arnold, Father Banshri, with all due respect, but you need to hear this new report—a thirty-year-old man in the Bronx choked to death on his collection of rare comic books..." 

"Excellent," Constantine thought. "People can pick sides based on their stance, but who would have thought that both sides are completely unrelated to the truth?" 

--- 

At this moment, in a high-rise building in New York City, whispers from hell were softly echoing. 

Lush green vegetation filled the room. In the colossal space spanning thousands of square feet, palms, bromeliads, maidenhair ferns, and various other plants found in rainforests grew intertwined. From time to time, small animals crawled among the foliage, making it look less like an ordinary artificial greenhouse and more like a miniature indoor ecosystem. 

The owner of this room must be incredibly wealthy—to achieve this in a concrete and steel high-rise would undoubtedly cost a fortune. 

The setting sun streamed through the glass exterior wall, casting a golden glow over everything indoors. A burly man in a suit suddenly emerged from the plant jungle. 

He picked up a human skull from an altar table, which looked somewhat eerie in the golden light. 

"Do you feel it?" he asked the skull. "That dangerous scent in the air—come, sister, temporarily withdraw from the pleasures of hell and give me some advice." 

As he spoke, he carried the skull to the massive glass curtain wall. This greenhouse was on the top floor of the building, offering a panoramic view of the brightly lit New York City and the entire sky. 

"Look, something is moving in the jungle outside—can your dead eyes see its face? Can your dead mouth utter its name?" 

--- 

The whispers from hell were like a dream, an inaudible murmur from another dimension that subtly entered the man's ears—he didn't get the answer he wanted. 

"You don't recognize it?" the man asked the skull. "Sister, I thought you had a thing with every demon in hell." 

The demon gave a silent reply again. 

"I see. If it didn't come from above or below, then it's a new evil spirit born of the human world. It's so hungry, 'Hungry Spirit' is quite fitting." 

"And now, we need to make sure it eats somewhere else..." 

The man placed the skull back on the altar and pressed the intercom button. "Servant, bring me a white rooster." 

A strange gurgling sound came from the loudspeaker. After a moment, silence returned. 

At this very moment, Cody and Constantine, along with Lester, happened to walk into the building. 

"This is where Papa Midnite lives?" Cody asked. "Looks impressive." 

"What, did his African heritage give you some kind of misconception?" Constantine lit a cigarette. "Although this guy is a Voodoo practitioner, so he's a bit bloodthirsty and certainly a creepy fellow—there's no doubt he's rich, extremely rich, and he's used his money to collect a lot of good stuff in the circle." 

He summarized, "Papa Midnite, perhaps not omnipotent, but certainly capable of stirring up trouble in the supernatural world." 

Cody immediately understood. It seemed this universe's Papa Midnite, like in the movies, had maintained his persona as a "weapon master," holding many sacred and magical artifacts. While top-tier good stuff might be scarce, he probably had a good number of mid-tier magical items. 

The trio made several turns on the ground floor of the building and finally found a fire safety door. Constantine walked ahead and pushed the door open, and an unbearable, pungent stench immediately wafted out from the gap. 

"Jesus, what the hell is that smell? Worse than a damn zoo..." 

Cody's senses were quite sharp. He could not only smell the stench from inside the door but also hear chicken clucking from deeper within, as well as the heavy footsteps of a burly man. 

"Careful," he warned. "No telling what's in there." 

"Just some of Midnite's usual tricks..." Constantine replied carelessly, stepping boldly inside. "Anyone home? Excuse me—" 

His voice cut off abruptly, and Cody, pulling Lester along, quickly followed, his other hand already gripping his gun, ready for any conflict. 

--- 

Upon reaching Constantine, a pile of chicken coops appeared in their sight. White-feathered chickens were cooped up, clucking noisily. A burly, dark-skinned man, completely naked except for a loincloth, was holding a chicken coop in one hand. He turned his head to stare at the unexpected intruders, his eyes somewhat vacant, looking less than intelligent. 

"Uh-uh..." 

"Um... excuse me?" 

"UGH AHHHH!" 

Hearing Constantine's cautious greeting, the burly man immediately let out a deafening roar at the group. 

Chapter 258: Isn't It Logical to Use Hypno-shrooms Against Zombies? 

The enraged giant roared, swinging a punch at the group. His immense bulk gave him terrifying strength. Cody knew that massive fist was more than a normal person could handle, so he quickly pulled his two teammates out of the way. 

Boom! 

The big, dark man's punch landed on the nearby wall. The punch was as terrifying as Cody had guessed, tearing straight through the wall. 

Cody couldn't help but ask loudly, "Are these some of the Midnight's usual tricks!?" 

Constantine shrugged. "Yeah, but don't worry, I have a way to deal with it..." 

Boom! 

Another loud crash. The big, dark man pulled his fist out, almost bringing down half the wall. Seeing the situation turn sour, Cody directly pulled out a shimmering, rainbow-colored mushroom from his pocket. 

[Hypno-shroom (Includes planting rights and sun-purchasing rights)] [Price: 50,000 USD Asset Points] [Note: Zombies are our friends, they are severely misunderstood. Zombies play an important role in our ecosystem. We can and should work harder to teach them to think our way—by Hypno-shroom.] 

Cody could have just pulled out his gun, or put on his Beast Ring and gauntlets and broken the opponent's bones directly. However, considering Constantine had mentioned that this big, dark man was on Papa Midnight's side, he ultimately chose a less damaging and seemingly more graceful method. 

"Go!" 

Seeing the big, dark man charge forward with another roar, Cody simply raised his hand and threw the Hypno-shroom. It transformed into a colorful streak of light, landing directly in the man's mouth. In no time, this magical mushroom "melted in his mouth," sliding down his throat and into his stomach. 

"Uh uh uh..." 

As the mushroom went down, Constantine immediately saw that the big, dark man, who had just been so menacing, now looked dazed. He glanced around, then stood silently in place, no longer moving. 

"I was just about to say I had a way to deal with him..." Constantine lit another cigarette. "Turns out you solved it already—what was that mushroom?" 

"A hallucinogenic mushroom that makes enemies see us as friends in their illusions. It lasts an hour," Cody explained. "Still not magic, and it only works on opponents who aren't very smart. But it's good that this big, dark man is just as I thought, not very clever." 

"That's the problem with zombie laborers. It's not so much that they're not smart, as that they have no brains—but you don't really need to feed them mushrooms. Just yell at them, and they'll obey." 

"That's a zombie?" 

"Yeah," Constantine shrugged. "They're a special kind of zombie from Voodoo, they call them 'reanimated corpses.' I don't know exactly how it's done, Midnight never says, it's probably a secret of their Voodoo. I heard they use things like pufferfish for the spell. Anyway, the end result is turning a living person into a reanimated corpse." 

"Then my mushroom wasn't misplaced at all..." 

"In short, these things are very useful. They're loyal, fearless, strong in combat, easy to control, and never lazy—besides being afraid when scolded, they basically have no flaws." 

"It's a good thing these things can't be mass-produced," Cody commented. "Otherwise, American capitalists probably wouldn't hire human workers anymore." 

As the two talked, a rough male voice suddenly came from a communicator nearby. 

"Idiot, why haven't you brought the rooster upstairs yet? Did you forget how to use the elevator again?" 

Upon hearing the scolding, the zombie indeed showed obvious signs of fear. He immediately cowered and collapsed to the ground. 

Constantine chuckled at the voice. "Heh heh, that's his master's voice." He casually picked up a white rooster from the ground and handed it to Lester, who had been dazed, to help him collect himself. 

"Come on, let's go see this old friend." 

A Confrontation with Papa Midnight 

Moments later, in the greenhouse. 

Ding— 

The electronic door chimed, and the zombie laborer finally brought in the white rooster. 

"It's time." Midnight had now changed into his attire and held a golden staff carved in the style of a primitive tribe. He impatiently scolded behind him, "Dead man, I warn you, if you don't do things more efficiently, I'll bury you again—and no one will remember you then." 

However, it wasn't the zombie who came up. 

"Papa Midnight, remember me?" 

A familiar voice wafted over with the smell of smoke. Midnight turned his head in astonishment, then saw the blond scoundrel in the yellow trench coat smiling at him. 

"Constantine?!" 

"Well, well, well, isn't this a beautiful forest? It reminds me of the Royal Botanic Gardens—" Constantine grinned, weaving through the jungle to Midnight's side. "Hope you don't mind us coming straight up. Your watchdog barked a few times, but he's quiet now. He's just a lamb at heart, after all." 

Cody followed closely behind. He now truly saw the sorcerer known as Papa Midnight and witnessed his primitive and peculiar attire. He wore a white top hat, a white swallowtail coat directly over his bare upper body, and only a grass skirt on his lower half, revealing thick, dark thighs. 

The elegant suit couldn't fully conceal the Haitian sorcerer's robust physique. The pristine white color contrasted sharply with his dark skin. Papa Midnight exuded a raw, wild aura. Even if he could fully master American social rules and thrive in New York City, this wildness always made him seem out of place in this land. 

Facing Constantine's unexpected visit, Papa Midnight's already dark complexion grew even darker. Watching him raise the golden staff in his hand, Cody even guessed that he might be unable to resist using that staff to severely beat Constantine in the next second. 

"The view from up here is beautiful, isn't it—oh, and my friend brought your rooster up for you. You're welcome." 

At this point, Constantine's gaze swept over the altar adorned with skulls. "I assume you're about to cast a little spell?" 

"Constantine," Midnight said coldly. "What do you want?" 

"I need your help." 

Midnight then laughed in anger. 

"You cheated me out of fifty thousand dollars, and now you want my help? You've got as much nerve as Satan himself..." 

"Forget that small change, Midnight. Something big has happened in New York." 

Constantine replied with a serious expression. "I don't know if you've found out the name of that thing, but I can tell you—Nameless, a pure hungry spirit, is rampaging outside right now, devouring like a starved wolf in a sheepfold, enjoying a rich feast of flesh and souls. This place is full of its delicacies." 

"Haven't you noticed?" 

Chapter 259: My Hometown's is Like This 

It was deep in the night, the moon high in the sky, with dark clouds pressing down. 

In the brightly lit city of New York, the conversation between the two sorcerers continued. 

"The Indians say, when the tiger feeds, the jungle holds its breath." 

"We call that 'one mountain cannot hold two tigers,'" Cody chimed in smoothly. 

Constantine, whose rhythm was interrupted, instinctively rolled his eyes at him, then collected himself and continued speaking to Midnite, "Think about it, Papa, what powerful person can tolerate a demon making trouble in their own backyard?" 

Midnite listened to Constantine, his face grim as he looked at the night sky outside the window. Meanwhile, Constantine behind him continued his attempts at persuasion. 

"I know how to defeat that thing, but I need a mage's help—a powerful mage with resources." 

"A free mage," Cody thought to himself. "Must be strong enough, have a stake in it, and willing to help without getting paid..." 

Constantine couldn't hear Cody's thoughts. He casually pulled out another cigarette, walked to the altar table with the skull, and lit it with a candle on the table. "Old man, think it over carefully, and you can ask the skull too. I'll be back in a bit—oh, and be sure to send my love to your sister here, she was an incredible woman in life." 

"She still is." 

Midnite saw him push Lester, who was holding the white rooster, forward and say, "One more thing, do me a favor and look after this friend—that's all, see you." 

Cody couldn't help but frown. He didn't expect Constantine to just leave their teammate here, which seemed like an unnecessary choice. 

But in the next moment, he saw Lester, clutching the chicken, walk meekly to Midnite's side, tacitly agreeing to Constantine's arrangement, even appearing somewhat eager. This made Cody swallow the words he was about to say. 

As the two left, Cody could vaguely hear Lester's voice from the crack in the door: "Uh, Mr. Midnite, John said you could help me get a fix. Do you have any of that high-purity stuff...?" 

Cody couldn't maintain his expression; Lester had exasperated him into laughter. 

"Constantine, I just thought of an old saying from my hometown." 

"Hm?" Constantine, looking perfectly at ease, asked, "What is it?" 

"A leopard cannot change its spots." 

"Don't understand. Speak English." 

"A dog can't stop eating shit." 

--- 

However, what Cody didn't know was that after they left, the conversation between Midnite and Lester continued. 

"Oh, my friend, you can have anything you need, but you'll have to wait a moment—first, why don't you tell me about your old friend, and that stranger? Have you known them long? Do you trust them deeply?" 

"Uh, that stranger seems to have only just sought out John a few days ago. We're not very familiar, not even friends," Lester replied cautiously. "I only know his name is Cody, he's into occult stuff, and he has some money. He seems gentle, but he always likes to control people. I don't really like or trust him." 

He had also thought about the candy he ate and the hat he wore, but he was well aware that he was a drug addict, and these past few days, Nomos had been tormenting him into a state of mental exhaustion, keeping him half-asleep. He wasn't entirely sure if those unrealistic, strange things were just hallucinations, so he decided not to mention them. 

"Oh, another outsider who doesn't know his place," Midnite smiled knowingly. He had seen many of these bumpkins who thought having a bit of money meant they no longer needed to be respectful. Without exception, they all believed they could buy anything with wealth, fantasizing about spending money to make the occult serve them, earn them more money, eliminate rivals, or even defy fate and gain immortality. 

They simply didn't understand how high the price of miracles and magic was, nor did they know that U.S. dollars could never pay the true cost of magic. The more valuable what they desired, the more significant the exchange had to be; fate, life, and soul were the true currencies of the occult. 

After getting Lester's answer, Papa Midnite instantly lost interest in Cody's information. 

--- 

"So, what about your old friend? John Constantine, do you trust him?" 

"John..." After a moment's consideration, Lester replied, "I trust John." 

"I entrust my life to him." 

On the other side, Constantine and Cody had just descended the stairs when a chilling wind suddenly hit them—a noisy rushing sound filled the air, and heavy rain began to fall outside. 

"No taxis on the street, and quite a lot of people," Cody observed the pedestrians coming and going under the streetlights, marveling at how many people were in New York's bustling district at night. Gotham certainly didn't have such a sight. "Did you bring an umbrella?" 

"What do I need an umbrella for? It's not far to the subway," Constantine exhaled a puff of smoke. "Haven't you spent some time in America? You're in New York, aren't you going to have some fun tonight?" 

"Sounds like you want to go solo and just made up a clumsy excuse to get rid of me," Cody couldn't help but retort. "You might as well be more direct; there's no need to hide anything." 

"I'm going to see my girlfriend." 

Cody understood. 

"Alright, I can understand how you feel, but your girlfriend might have already come into contact with Nomos. In other words, be careful when you're alone; don't get infected." 

"Even if I run into Nomos, I don't need you to..." 

Mid-sentence, Constantine suddenly paused. He thought about it carefully, then replied, "I think you have a point. Come with me." 

Cody looked at Constantine, who had suddenly become very agreeable, and immediately had a bad feeling. 

"No, no, my expression of concern was purely out of politeness," he immediately waved his hands. "You absolutely don't need to take it seriously, and this is between you and your girlfriend's—" 

"Stop talking so much," Constantine directly pulled him towards the subway station. "Just come on, I'll need your help later." 

--- 

New York's subway at night was still packed, like sardines in a can, making Constantine feel crammed. 

The rain had left many people's clothes and shoes wet, and their jackets carried a musty smell, making the air in the subway unpleasant. 

Ever since they got on the plane, Constantine's expression hadn't been good, and when they squeezed into the subway, his face grew even fouler. 

Then, he watched in astonishment as Cody effortlessly slipped into the crowd, moving through dozens of gaps like a fish in water, and casually appeared beside him. 

"Why are you so adaptable to crowded places like this?" 

"No other reason than practice makes perfect—it's like this at my old university, back home." 

Chapter 260: Memories Best Left Untouched 

Constantine looked grim as he finally emerged from the crowds on Houston Street, managing to find enough space to light another cigarette. Clearly, he wasn't in a good mood. 

Cody, on the other hand, felt completely normal. Even New York's midnight subway wasn't that crowded; for truly packed sardine cans, you had to see the morning rush hour on the subways back home. Early-rising office workers, in unspoken agreement, squeezed into the same confined space at the same time, heading for a monotonous job they'd been at for years, maybe decades, and perhaps another twenty or thirty more if they were "lucky." Dozens of eyes stared blankly, shining with a dull, desperate light. 

During his own time working, Cody often thought that if supernatural powers truly existed, a subway station overflowing with resentment would likely be the first place to spawn a vengeful ghost or evil spirit. 

The two walked out of the subway station, strolled a short distance down the street, and eventually arrived in Greenwich Village. 

As they entered the street, dead memories suddenly began to assault Constantine's mind. At every street corner, old memories, often of Emma, would resurface with the familiar surroundings. 

They continued deeper down the main road, and Constantine's memories kept flashing in his mind. The memories he usually tried to suppress were now completely unstoppable. 

It was like picking at an old wound; each layer peeled back hurt a little more. Constantine fought hard to suppress the urge to turn and leave, finally arriving in front of a building. 

He didn't want to go in, but he had to—if not for Cody. 

It was somewhere nearby, Constantine thought, where Lester had mailed the bottle, to Emma's place. 

If they were lucky enough, the hungry spirit might not have had time to destroy the bottle yet. 

"I don't want to go in," he told Cody. "This is the place. You go in, ask the people on the fourteenth floor which apartment Emma, the painter, lives in." 

"Are you serious?" Cody asked. "Your girlfriend lives here, and you're not going up yourself? And what am I supposed to tell her? That Constantine doesn't want to see her?" 

"I told you, I don't want to go up." Constantine took a deep drag from his cigarette. "And she's not up there—she's dead." 

Hearing that, Cody paused. He finally understood why Constantine had insisted he come along. 

"Alright," he said. "No wonder. Is there anything else you need my help with?" 

"No," Constantine said, looking down and taking another drag from his cigarette, waving him off impatiently. "Just get up there and find out what you need to know. I want to find a hotel and get some good sleep soon." 

--- 

A Strange Encounter

After Cody's footsteps faded into the stairwell, Constantine still couldn't help but look up. He gazed at the familiar window, where a warm light still shone. 

The studio light was still on. Normally, she would be staying up late working at this time—if that damned demon, Evandri, hadn't thrown her out of that cursed window. 

Thinking this, Constantine threw his cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it hard. 

"Damn it, this is what happens when you date a low-rent exorcist like Constantine." 

He thought cursing himself would make him feel a little better, but it didn't. He felt even worse. 

At this moment, the guilt, pain, and nostalgia tormented his insides. He wanted to leave immediately, but the night's task wasn't done; he wanted to go upstairs, but he was afraid of seeing Emma's room. 

Finally, he sighed and chose to light another cigarette. 

Cody walked up to the fourteenth floor. He didn't go door-to-door, as there seemed to be only one painter resident on that floor. 

Amidst the complex odors of paint, thinner, and turpentine throughout the entire floor, the smell from the painter's apartment doorknob was particularly prominent. It was a scent that had been absorbed into the door over years, suggesting Constantine's girlfriend had lived here for quite some time. 

"But Constantine clearly said Emma had passed away," Cody thought, puzzled, listening carefully. There were distinct footsteps inside the door, heavy and loud, sounding like ordinary men's shoes on a wooden floor. 

Who was this person? The next tenant after Emma? Are New Yorkers really that open-minded? 

So he stepped forward and knocked on the door. 

After a moment, the door creaked open just a fist's width. A man with long red hair and a goatee looked out at Cody from the narrow opening. 

"Who are you looking for?" 

"Emma. I'm here on behalf of her boyfriend—do you mind if I come in?" 

The man looked Cody up and down, noting his Asian face and rather formal attire, deciding he seemed quite wealthy and not like a gang member. So he opened the door for him. 

Cody entered the room. In a few seconds, he quickly scanned the entire space, which was filled with canvases, flower petals, oil paints, and gouache. It was clear that the man before him was also an artist, and he had simply rented the studio Emma had left behind. 

"Actually, she doesn't live here anymore, buddy," the painter told him. "You won't find her here." 

"I know, she passed away." Cody took another two steps. At this point, he was absolutely certain that in this not-so-spacious small room, there was no smell of bugs, nor any smell of the magical glass bottle—that bottle had been touched by Lester and the fat man who had gorged himself to death, carrying their scent. 

Finding nothing here, he felt a bit disappointed. He could only sigh and ask, gesturing to a painting nearby, "Is this her? The one who fell to her death?" 

On the canvas, a vivid red column of light plunged to the ground, and a woman's face emerged on the paper. She looked beautiful and young. 

"Yeah, it's a strange business. Although I didn't know her well, her death certainly gave me some artistic inspiration." 

"Artists don't have many taboos, do they?" Cody glanced at him, not commenting further on his unrestrained behavior. 

"Actually, the painting isn't quite right," a familiar voice said from behind them. "Remember to close the door when you open it, little brother." 

Cody smelled the familiar scent of smoke, but he wasn't surprised—his hearing was excellent, allowing him to fully remember the unique sound of certain people's footsteps, so Constantine's ascent hadn't escaped him. 

"Decided to come up and take a look yourself after all?" 

Constantine didn't answer Cody's question. Instead, he turned and closed the door, then took a deep breath.