In the apartment living room.
The figures of Darian and Constantine appeared out of thin air, giving Angela quite a scare.
"God, are you two okay?"
Angela had originally been a firm materialist, believing that science could explain everything.
But in the short span of half an hour, she had first experienced an attack by a large group of demons, and then witnessed two living people vanish and reappear right before her eyes. Her worldview had shattered completely, and she had now become a devout Catholic believer.
Darian chuckled, "It's fine, it's fine. I found your sister. She did indeed commit suicide, but you don't need to worry; her soul won't remain in Hell, because I've already sent her to meet God."
Why did that sound so strange?
Having witnessed Darian's abilities, Angela had no doubts at all and thanked him repeatedly, "Thank you so much, thank you for saving Isabel's soul."
As she spoke, she noticed Constantine standing to the side, silent, his eyes hollow, as if his soul had been drained from him.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Don't mind him. He was just rejected by Heaven, and now he's taking it hard."
Darian's face showed undisguised schadenfreude.
Constantine was truly disliked by everyone, even dogs; even Heaven welded their gates shut the moment they saw him, afraid of being scammed by this guy.
But one couldn't blame Heaven for that.
Constantine's reputation was notorious across the three realms.
From the Angels in Heaven to the demons in Hell, there wasn't a single faction that hadn't been scammed by him; his reputation was worse than the devils in Hell.
If Heaven actually accepted this guy, it probably wouldn't take more than a few days for the good reputation they had accumulated over so many years to be completely ruined by this single rat turd.
Constantine suddenly seemed to regain his soul, grabbing Darian's arm with a hurried tone, "Buddy, summon Heaven one more time. They definitely didn't hear me earlier. Try again. Given my character and qualifications, there's no reason for them not to want me."
Darian chuckled, "Have some self-awareness. With your resume, only Hell would be willing to take you in. I advise you to just submit to Satan; maybe he has prepared dozens of well-endowed demons in a theme park, just waiting to dote on you together."
Constantine turned even paler upon hearing this, "I don't believe it! Unless you summon Heaven again!"
"I'm not summoning Heaven; I'm just redeeming souls and sending them to Heaven. This method can only be used on souls."
Darian spread his hands helplessly, "Unless you pass away right here and now, turning into a soul state, I can't attempt to send you to Heaven. Of course, I can't guarantee whether Heaven will be willing to accept you after you become a soul. If they are still unwilling, then you'll have no choice but to go straight to Hell."
As he spoke, Darian took out his Golden Desert Eagle again, pointing the gun at Constantine's head.
"However, since you are so certain about your character, I can fulfill your wish and send you on your way right now, to see whether it's God or Satan that you meet."
"Wait, I suddenly changed my mind."
Constantine reached out and pressed down on the muzzle, saying with a serious face, "Although I have absolute confidence in my character, the human World is currently in chaos with demons running rampant. As an exorcist, how can I abandon humanity at a time like this and go to Heaven to enjoy myself alone?"
"I think the matter of going to Heaven can be put on hold. The most urgent task now is to resolve the current crisis first."
Having said all that, he was actually just chickening out.
Darian couldn't be bothered to expose the guy, so he took out his phone and pulled up the mysterious pattern he had photographed from Isabel.
"Do you know the origin of this pattern?"
Constantine frowned and looked at it for a long time, then shook his head, "I don't know either, but I can ask a few friends. They are quite good at this kind of investigation, so there should be news soon."
Darian raised an eyebrow, "You actually have friends? Oh no, I mean, there are actually friends who haven't broken ties with you?"
Constantine grinned, "Of course. They are old friends I've known for over a decade, and we have a bond that has survived life and death."
The so-called bond that survived life and death referred to the fact that Constantine had almost gotten them killed several times.
But this also indirectly showed that these friends of his had very tough fates, making them very suitable to be his friends.
Constantine took out his phone and dialed several numbers in sequence.
But after a while, his expression changed repeatedly, and finally, he hung up the phone as if he had eaten shit.
"What's wrong?" Darian asked.
Constantine gritted his teeth, "They're all dead. The methods of death were all very strange. It's highly likely that the demon hiding behind the scenes did it. He knew I was investigating him, so he killed all my friends."
Darian was instantly speechless.
As expected of Constantine; indeed, not a single person who made friends with him ended up well.
Even the toughest fate couldn't stop the destiny of eventually being scammed to death by him.
Constantine was very sad. He didn't have many friends to begin with, and now there were even fewer left. In the future, when exorcising, he wouldn't even have a bullet shield... ah no, he wouldn't even have anyone to help him. He really lacked a sense of security.
He mourned for his friends in his heart for two seconds, then immediately regrouped.
"It's okay, I have one more friend. He's the owner of the Midnight Club, and he definitely knows a lot of things."
The Midnight Club was a completely neutral faction in the human World.
This club was only open to supernatural beings and was a harmonious zone for both Heaven and Hell in the human World.
Anyone who entered the club had to follow the rules; no conflicts were allowed. Its nature was somewhat similar to that Continental Hotel where a bloodbath was triggered because of a dog.
The club owner, nicknamed Papa Midnight, was a voodoo practitioner who belonged to an absolutely neutral faction, not favoring either Heaven or Hell.
He and Constantine had originally been comrades-in-arms who fought side by side, having once resisted Hell's forces together, and his strength was quite impressive.
This could be proven by the fact that he had been Constantine's friend for so many years and was still alive and well to this day.
The Midnight Club was hidden deep in a remote alley in the city, and from the outside, it looked just like an abandoned old warehouse.
The three of them drove to the outside of the old warehouse. As soon as they approached, Darian could feel a faint magic barrier shrouding the entire building, which was likely magic specifically used to shield ordinary humans.
This kind of low-level magic was practically non-existent to Darian and Constantine.
And Angela, under their guidance, also successfully passed through the barrier.
Their group got out of the car, opened the iron door of the warehouse, and walked into the basement level, finding the Midnight Club hidden there.
A tall, sturdy Black man stood at the entrance, stopping them. He held a stack of cards imbued with a magical aura and demanded they state the content on the back of the cards.
This was the club's method for screening out ordinary people.
The Midnight Club had strict rules; no ordinary humans were allowed to enter, not even those brought by club members.
Darian and Constantine immediately stated the patterns on the cards and were let through directly.
Angela was an ordinary person, so naturally, she couldn't tell what was going on, but she was the key to this incident, so they definitely couldn't leave her here alone.
Darian simply pulled Angela into a private chat group, told her the answer, and let her sneak into the Midnight Club along with them.
Walking into the interior of the club, rhythmic electronic music rushed to meet them.
The lighting here was dark red, and the bar and booths were already full of people; it looked just like a regular nightclub.
Darian swept his gaze over and discovered that most of the guests in the club were half-breed Angels and half-breed demons, which is to say, Angels and demons using human shells to operate in the human World.
Their main job in the human World was to compete for human souls for their respective factions; one side was responsible for protecting humans, and the other for enticing them.
To put it bluntly, they were grass-roots salespeople sent to the human World by Heaven and Hell, working from dawn till dusk to grab performance and meet KPIs for their own companies.
Of course, this didn't mean they would be at each other's throats because of it.
On the contrary, the atmosphere here was unusually harmonious; one could even see a few Angels and demons gathered together drinking and bragging, a scene of great harmony.
After all, they were all bottom-tier wage slaves; everyone was just trying to make a living, and there was no need to fight to the death.
The three of them wove through the noisy crowd and made their way to the office deep inside the club.
Constantine was not polite at all and pushed the door open to enter.
Sitting inside the office was a Black man wearing a black fedora and scarf, with a thick cigar in his mouth, looking every bit like a Mafia godfather.
"Midnight, my good friend, I've come to see you again. Did you miss me?"
Constantine spoke first, his tone as warm as if they were brothers reunited after a long time.
Facing this enthusiasm, Papa Midnight acted extremely cold, "Constantine, you bastard, how dare you appear in front of me? Last time you sold me a batch of fake holy items, I haven't even settled the score with you yet."
Constantine's smile froze for a moment. He glanced stealthily to the left and right, discovering that Darian and Angela were staring at him with looks that one would use to size up scum.
He explained awkwardly, "I was a victim too. How would I know those things were fake?"
Papa Midnight snorted coldly, "Then give me the money back."
"The money's all spent. Let me owe it for now, and I'll pay you back double later." Constantine skillfully used the delaying tactic.
"You can pay back my ass!"
Papa Midnight couldn't help but curse, "I'm a witch doctor, at least. Don't think I can't tell; you've long had lung cancer and aren't far from death. I was wondering why you've been going around borrowing money from friends lately; so you, motherfucker, were planning to freeload, bringing one person to die to pay off the debt!"
What a piece of work!
Darian and Angela were greatly amazed upon hearing this.
Constantine's level of scumminess really kept refreshing the lower limits of their perception.
"How could I possibly be that kind of person."
Having his intentions exposed on the spot, even with Constantine's thick skin, he couldn't quite handle it.
Constantine quickly changed the subject, "Let's not talk about that for now. I've come to you this time for serious business that concerns the safety of the entire human World. I need your help to investigate this pattern."
As he spoke, he handed his phone to Papa Midnight.
Papa Midnight didn't bicker with Constantine further.
A person in the late stages of lung cancer who had been personally named by Satan could be considered absolutely invincible. Bickering with such a person would only waste his own time.
He took a drag of his cigar and glanced at the phone nonchalantly.
When he saw the pattern on the screen clearly, his fingers holding the cigar paused, and his expression sank slightly.
Papa Midnight said in a deep voice, "You know my rules. As long as the balance between Heaven and Hell isn't broken, I won't interfere in either side's affairs."
Constantine knew Papa Midnight recognized the pattern and immediately perked up, "The balance has long been broken. A large number of demons have crossed the boundary and descended into the human World. Hell has already violated the rules, and there must be a huge conspiracy hidden behind it."
"That's impossible."
Papa Midnight shook his head decisively, "Heaven and Hell cannot directly interfere in the human World; that is the rule set by those two personally. Neither side would easily break it. Constantine, could this be another lie you fabricated to achieve some goal?"
Constantine's credibility had long since plummeted below zero with Papa Midnight.
He wouldn't believe a single punctuation mark of what Constantine said.
Seeing Papa Midnight was unmoved, Constantine was furious, "If you won't talk, fine. Then lend me that chair of yours, and I'll investigate it myself."
Papa Midnight sneered, "Don't even think about it. I don't want you dying on my turf and summoning Satan here."
That electric chair was one of Papa Midnight's most precious collectibles, coming from Sing Sing Correctional Facility in New York State.
As one of the first three prisons in the U.S. to use the electric chair, from 1890 onwards, a total of 200 heinous death-row inmates had been executed on this chair.
Because numerous evil spirits had descended into Hell through that electric chair, the residual resentment and aura of death had permeated the entire chair, turning it into a special magical artifact capable of tracing the tracks of all evil spirits.
Darian shook his head while watching the two argue, reaching out to push aside Constantine, who still wanted to argue.
"Move aside, let me have a talk with him."
Papa Midnight narrowed his eyes and sized up Darian, a strange expression appearing on his face, "Such a chaotic aura—Heaven, Hell, and the human World all mixed together. Who exactly are you?"
Darian grinned, "My name is Darian. Like Constantine, I am investigating this incident. Although Constantine is indeed scum, I guarantee that he is telling the truth this time. I need you to tell me the origin of this pattern."
"I said, I will not interfere in any conflicts between Heaven and Hell."
Papa Midnight leaned back in his chair, took a drag of his cigar, and blew a smoke ring, "Whether you are an Angel or a demon, from Heaven or from Hell, I don't care."
"Sorry, I am neither an Angel nor a demon."
Darian took out a shiny police badge and slapped it directly onto the table.
"I am a police officer. I now suspect your bar is involved in multiple illegal and criminal activities, including but not limited to operating without a license, tax evasion, illegal sale of alcohol, and harboring a large number of dangerous individuals. Please cooperate with our investigation, otherwise, we will seal off this bar in accordance with the law."
Papa Midnight: "???"
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