Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 389: Ch.388 Fire

"Constantine, you're still here."

The scruffy magician was still sitting in the same spot as before, only now his trench coat was covered in bloodstains and bits of flesh on one side, as if he'd been walking on a muddy roadside and a speeding car had crushed a crate of tomatoes right next to him, spraying him in the process.

His face, hands, and even his glass had turned red.

It looked like he had managed to cover his glass at the moment of the incident, which was why he was still able to drink from it.

"What else could I do? The Witchmark has arrived, and we're all doomed." Constantine gave Su Ming a half-dead look and let out a long sigh. "At the moment the flames hit, all I could think about was finishing the drink in my glass, but it only licked the edge of my coat before retreating."

Su Ming looked down, and indeed, the black, radiating burn marks on the floor reached precisely to Constantine's feet.

"The games between the Satans and God won't let you get off so easily." He sat down across from Constantine.

John Constantine was a tragedy, currently stuck in a state where even death couldn't come to him.

Once, he'd done some good deeds, intending to go to Heaven, because his lung cancer was in the late stage, and he didn't have much time left.

But the demons, wanting to prevent him from ascending, infused his body with demon blood. This powerful blood kept him alive but also brought along all sorts of inherent sins.

Essentially, Satan's thinking was, "If I can't have him, then neither can God."

And thus, Constantine kept on living, but the demon blood only brought more suffering. His lungs were nearly rotten, and he avoided spellcasting for this very reason.

He had accumulated too much of a cost for his magic.

The First of the Fallen wasn't Lucifer—he wasn't nearly as accommodating as the Prince of Hell. He preferred to endlessly torment Constantine, making him howl and struggle in agony.

If Batman's ex-girlfriends had the highest mortality rate, then Constantine's ex-girlfriends had the most tragic deaths.

Compared to Kyle Rayner's ex being dismembered and stuffed into a fridge, that was nothing.

Constantine's ex-girlfriends often died in unspeakable ways. Even Dream himself couldn't help but cover their bodies with large white sheets when he saw them.

In the dreams of demons, they had never seen such gruesomeness.

It was too horrifying. Ordinary people would go mad just from one look at those corpses, gouging out their own eyes and smashing them on the ground to escape the terrifying reality.

"What do you want to ask? I'll tell you everything."

Constantine raised his hand to call for another drink, and although the magical bar cabinet was burnt to a crisp, it still retained some of its functions, albeit with far fewer options left in stock.

Fortunately, Constantine's favorite cheap whiskey, which was kept in the most inconspicuous corner, had survived.

Soon, a glass of still steaming, nearly boiling liquor floated over to the small table, but now, there was no one to collect payment.

Su Ming wasn't interested in discussing "heroes over a drink" with Constantine. He was more concerned with the current mission.

"Who was the marked one this time?"

"How about I start from the beginning and tell you what happened here after you all left?"

Constantine raised his glass—this was the first time he'd ever had to blow on it to cool it before drinking.

But it felt rather nice—the scalding liquor, like molten lava from Hell, mixed with the burnt stench of the girls. It was just the right kind of drink for someone like him.

"After you all left, the girls' party began."

Constantine wiped the bloodstains on his face as he spoke to Su Ming, and Donna came over as well, curious about what had happened here.

Though Arabella often messed around with Bobo, she set aside her mischief this time and helped Bobo collect the charred corpses.

Bobo needed to confirm that none of the bodies were his bartender.

"Diana, it seems like your chest shrank."

Donna's presence distracted Constantine, and the low-cut uniform naturally drew his gaze. He noticed that Wonder Woman's chest had gone down a size.

Though not by much, his eyes never failed to notice these things. Had they been doing such intense activity that within half an hour she'd lost so much?

Donna naturally glared at him, seeing this as outright harassment. She immediately planned to use her lasso to bind Constantine and make him lick her boots.

And make him apologize while doing it.

Su Ming held her hand, gently shaking his head. Now wasn't the time to fool around with Constantine.

"Focus. What happened here?"

Constantine clicked his tongue, noting how Deathstroke held "Diana's" hand, and found himself more inclined to believe some recent rumors.

But he cleared his throat, pulling the topic back on track: "The girls' gathering was just about venting frustrations. You know, ever since the Source Wall cracked and the anomalies came in, a lot of people couldn't cast spells anymore—or at least were too scared to."

"Hmm, we've all seen what happens when you cast spells."

Su Ming nodded, agreeing with Constantine's statement—it was true.

"So initially, it was just a group drinking to drown their sorrows. The girls started with beer and then moved on to stronger drinks. It only took a few minutes before some of them passed out."

Constantine pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a slow drag.

"You weren't planning to take advantage of them being drunk, were you?"

Donna's eyes turned sharp. She had been to college, and outside the clubs near campus, there were always greasy middle-aged men waiting in their cars to pick up young, drunken girls.

Constantine looked just as suspicious.

"No, you've misunderstood me. I'm more into older women." Constantine gave her a knowing smile.

But Donna wasn't Diana—she didn't understand. She looked at Su Ming in confusion.

Su Ming rolled his eyes and whispered a few words into Donna's ear.

Her eyes widened instantly. She stared at Constantine with disbelief before turning away, gagging as she left.

She'd rather help Bobo collect bodies.

"Aww, come on, what did you tell her?" Constantine grinned, scratching his head.

"It doesn't matter. Just keep talking—what happened next?" Su Ming turned back to look at Constantine.

He sighed—he didn't really care what people thought of him at this point. "And then I saw Rebecca Castells. She showed up too."

Su Ming nodded slightly. It seemed she was the marked one.

Rebecca, codename "Witchfire," was a practitioner of dark magic.

But she hadn't done anything unforgivable. On the contrary, she had contributed to society.

She was said to be the best singer and dancer in the magic community and the most powerful magician in the entertainment industry.

Yes, her goal wasn't to rule Earth with magical power but to use magic for special effects, breaking into showbiz to make big money.

She had released two music albums, and her songs had even made it to the Billboard charts. Her music videos played on TV every afternoon.

To be precise, she had once been a star. Back then, she was always in the spotlight, using a smoking pen to sign autographs for her fans or casting curses on haters.

But the entertainment industry was a fickle place. Years ago, when her magic tricks made her music videos seem very "real," she was hot—but fame never lasts.

Those magical flames could only keep fans interested for so long. No matter how beautiful the fireworks, eventually people get tired of seeing them.

People preferred watching catfights between female stars or scandals involving cheating. If it involved coming out or love triangles, even better.

Now, she was just a has-been pop star, retreating to the magical community. Maybe she'd saved up enough money to make a movie.

Seeing that Su Ming understood, Constantine made a blooming gesture with his hands.

"So tonight, she got to 'burn' again."

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