"Please come in."
Led by Grace, the two entered the vast estate. The foyer alone was larger than Constantine's entire office, glittering under crystal chandeliers with various high-end luxury items.
The sheer display of wealth nearly blinded Wade's masked eyes.
"Wait here a moment," Grace whispered nervously, clutching the banister of the grand staircase. "I'll go call Lila down. Please don't reveal your true identities yet, Mr. Constantine. Lila doesn't know about my visit to find you."
Grace gave John a tight, apologetic—yet undeniably lingering—smile. Then, swaying her slender waist, she walked up the stairs and disappeared from their sight.
"You bastard, John!" Wade hissed, instantly leaning close to Constantine and narrowing his white lenses suspiciously. "Tell me the truth! When exactly did you two hook up?!"
Just now, Grace's eyes had held absolutely zero presence for Lord Deadpool. One could even say she outright ignored him. Yet, the look in her eyes when she glanced at the rumpled chain-smoker held a certain sultry, familiar charm.
Facing Wade's frantic inquiry, John didn't reply. He merely raised a single eyebrow, offering a slow, unapologetic smirk to confirm the suspicion.
Seeing John's smug, irritating expression—and imagining this cynical grifter rolling in the high-thread-count sheets with the wealthy blonde—Wade dramatically clutched his chest.
"This is worse than killing me!" Wade cried, sliding down the wall.
John paid no more attention to Wade's antics. He stood up and began surveying his surroundings. As he walked casually around the foyer, fine, crushed bone powder trickled discreetly from his palm, forming a vague, nearly invisible circle on the hardwood floor.
Amid Wade's continued cries of romantic despair, two figures slowly descended the stairs.
"Lila, these are two friends of mine I haven't seen in a long time," Grace said, trying to keep her voice steady. "This time..."
"Him too?" Lila interrupted, not even letting her mother finish.
Lila pointed a manicured finger directly at Wade, making no attempt to hide her disgust. She looked exactly like a rebellious, spoiled teenager—dyed blonde hair, heavy, dark makeup, and a prominent silver nose ring.
Under Lila's undisguised, disdainful gaze, Wade flew into a rage.
"Oh, that's it! Nobody disrespects the suit!" Wade snapped, his hands instantly reaching over his shoulders for the hilts of his twin katanas.
"Calm down, Wade."
John promptly reached out, grabbing Wade's wrist to stop him from drawing steel.
John raised his eyes to the teenager. The faint trace of ancient, predatory malevolence lurking behind the girl's gaze fell directly into John's sight.
Seeing this, John lost any desire to play along with Grace's cover story.
A ragged scrap of ancient cloth had somehow already found its way into his hand. Without the slightest hesitation, John flipped open his Zippo lighter and ignited it.
"No!" Lila's face suddenly contorted with sheer, inhuman terror.
The scrap of the Shroud of Turin in John's hand burned to ash the moment it touched the flame.
A blinding, holy white light erupted from his palm. To Grace and Wade, the light was merely somewhat dazzling, like a camera flash. But when this holy light touched Lila, it was as if invisible, searing flames had ignited all over her body.
Wispy, foul-smelling white smoke rose from her skin, as if acid had been poured over her soul.
A piercing, multi-layered shriek tore from Lila's throat.
Only when the holy light finally faded did Lila, panting heavily, look down at John Constantine. The teenage brat was gone.
"A piece of the Shroud?" Lila's voice dropped two octaves, echoing with a wet, gravelly resonance. "Pity you're not a true priest. You can't unleash its real power."
The demon within Lila now abandoned any pretense of hiding. After John ignited the relic, its exposure was inevitable.
The youthful innocence vanished entirely from Lila's face, replaced by a sinister, predatory smile that stretched far too wide. In her eye sockets, the once bright blue pupils had flooded, turning completely pitch black.
Her neck snapped sideways with an unnatural crack, her black gaze shifting to Grace.
"Mom... I'm so disappointed..."
"Get out!!" Grace screamed, her voice cracking. "Get out of Lila's body!!"
While Lila was screaming under the assault of the holy light, Grace had already bolted to hide behind John. Now, finally seeing the demon reveal its true, horrifying form inhabiting her daughter's flesh, the last shred of denial in her heart was utterly shattered.
Grace broke down, sobbing hysterically at the demon.
Yet, the entity only laughed more heartily at her despair.
"Mom, I am your daughter," the demon cooed. As it spoke, the pitch-black void in Lila's eyes instantly receded, returning to her normal, terrified blue. Her expression morphed into one of impeccable, heartbreaking sadness—the look of a child betrayed by the one person supposed to protect her. "Would you let them hurt me? Help me... help me kill them, Mommy!"
Seeing her daughter's tearful, begging face, Grace's heart seized. A violent tremor of guilt racked her body—the pure, maternal guilt of allowing her child to be harmed. She took a step forward.
But with the final sentence, the blue vanished. Lila reverted instantly to her black-eyed state. The vulnerable tone was gone, replaced once more by the demon's venomous, mocking rasp.
The jarring whiplash finally jolted Grace out of her trance. She stumbled backward, weeping into her hands.
"You're quite skilled at playing with human hearts," John noted, narrowing his eyes solemnly. "That's different from the mindless brutes I usually send back down."
"Ah, the brutes," the demon mused, cracking Lila's knuckles. "It seems, little mage, you're quite adept at dealing with my kind."
The demon tilted Lila's head, analyzing the occultist.
"In that case, how about we leave each other alone?" the demon offered smoothly. "You and your clown can take any shiny trinkets you want from this house. Take the money. Just walk away, and don't disturb me on this trip."
The words made Constantine's blood run cold.
Its high intelligence, its flawless manipulation of human emotions... these were all completely different from the chaotic, low-level possession cases he usually handled.
However, demons are never benevolent. Constantine had just burned it with a holy relic—an unforgivable offense to a creature of pride. Yet, it was offering to let the matter drop immediately.
John knew exactly what that signified.
This demon had a specific, massive agenda for coming to the human world. It was a high-tier entity, and its plan was so important that it was willing to forgive a physical insult just to remain hidden.
"My career tells me..." John said, casually lighting a fresh Silk Cut cigarette. "...demons are never to be trusted."
"It seems our negotiation..." the demon snarled, the temperature in the foyer plummeting. "...has broken down!"
The moment the words fell from Lila's lips, a massive, invisible wave of telekinetic force surged toward John.
He and Grace were instantly violently flung backward, crashing hard against the mahogany double doors.
"I told you so!" Wade yelled, drawing his katanas. "Constantine! You're utterly hopeless at negotiating!"
The instant John was sent flying, Wade—who had been itching for a fight—leaped into action. His twin swords flashed coldly in the chandelier light as he launched himself into a lethal, acrobatic dive straight toward the possessed girl.
However, Lila merely glanced briefly at the airborne mercenary. She twitched a single, black-painted fingernail.
A heavy, solid-oak stool placed against the wall was violently yanked into the air by an unseen force. It hurled straight at Wade like a cannonball.
Wade tried to swing his swords to slice it, but he suddenly found his arms completely paralyzed. He was trapped mid-air by the same telekinetic grip.
"Oh, come on! I knew it!"
CRASH.
Unable to counter, Wade was smashed brutally into the corner of the foyer by the flying oak stool, tumbling into a heap of limbs and splintered wood.
Though his body was completely immobilized by the demon's magic, Wade's mouth had absolutely no intention of stopping.
"Hey! Hey, Ms. Demon!" Wade shouted from under the broken stool. "I'm not actually close with that trench-coat guy! If you look closely, you'll see our art styles don't even match! He's from DC, I'm from Marvel! It's a whole multiverse licensing nightmare!"
Lila slowly turned her black eyes toward him.
"If you don't mind, could you let me go?" Wade pleaded earnestly. "Vanessa's calling me home for dinner. And you know, angry women are really, really scary!"
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