Marvel: Soul King

Hell.

A towering pillar formed of countless ice flowers dissolved abruptly under the searing black flames, releasing a pungent sulfurous stench as it melted. Emerged slowly from the flames was a massive and terrifying figure.

The being had curved devil horns on its head, a pair of bat-like wings as black as ink extending from its back, and legs bent unnaturally below the knees, ending in flaming cloven hooves.

Hooves, horns, wings—there was no doubt this was a textbook demon!

The moment the demon appeared, time and space across Hell seemed to freeze.

Though the demon's true name was unknown, it was universally referred to as Mammon.

When its projection was destroyed, all its memories were transferred back to Mammon's true form. Upon learning what had transpired, Mammon rushed from another layer of Hell at top speed, intent on intercepting Lod and his group before they could escape.

But alas...

Lod had anticipated this and had already fled with Angela and the black cat long before Mammon arrived.

"Hahaha! Such a unique soul—it will be mine!"

A soul that is neither fully dead nor alive, for it carries the consciousness of its time in the living world. A soul capable of wielding Hell's death energy and even slight Authority of Hell without being a god of death or a demon—this was an extraordinary discovery.

Mammon's mood could not have been better.

He had stumbled upon something that would grant him the upper hand in his schemes against the other Hell Lords.

Now, he needed to find a way to complete the descent ritual.

"It seems I have to go back to Plan A," Mammon's eyes gleamed. "But first, let's get my claws on that soul."

---

Earth.

"Ahhh!"

Angela, who had been lying unconscious, suddenly screamed as her eyes shot open in terror. Her chest heaved violently, the motion emphasizing her... substantial assets.

"Awake now?"

Constantine discreetly averted his gaze before sarcastically saying, "Welcome back. Ahem, as I was going to ask, how's the scenery in Hell?"

Still shaken, Angela took several deep breaths before replying with lingering fear, "It was absolutely horrible. I swear, that was the worst decision I've ever made!"

"Too late for regrets now."

Constantine squinted as he exhaled a white puff of smoke. "I warned you before. Hell isn't a good place. Now that you've stepped into our world, things like this will keep happening."

"I..." Angela could only offer a bitter smile.

She had imagined a thousand horrifying depictions of Hell, thinking she was mentally prepared for whatever she would face.

But the moment she truly entered Hell, she realized just how naive she'd been.

Just as humans cannot comprehend the true nature of "gods" and therefore depict them in human forms, her imagined horrors were not even a fraction of Hell's true terror.

"Rest up and then get moving," Constantine said, flicking ash from his cigarette. "You'll be meeting the person who saved your life."

"The person who saved me?" Angela asked, puzzled. Her expression seemed to ask, "Wasn't it you who saved me?"

"Not me. I'm not capable of pulling a soul out of Hell," Constantine muttered, annoyed. "If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't still be worried about my lung cancer."

The two left the bathroom one after another.

The moment Angela stepped into the living room, her gaze was immediately drawn to a man sitting there, holding her cat, with smoke wafting off his body.

"He is certainly... handsome!"

Angela blurted the words out without thinking, but the moment she realized what she'd said, her face turned beet red.

"Unbelievable," Constantine muttered, feeling deeply wronged. Angela had never reacted like this to him. And he is handsome too, dammit!

"Hi there!" Angela stammered, her ears burning red. Though she avoided direct eye contact with Lod, she tried to compose herself. "Thank you for saving me. I'm Angela. If it's not too much trouble, may I buy you a coffee as thanks?"

'Was this... a pickup line?'

Judging by Angela's flushed cheeks, quickened breathing, and slightly misty eyes, this woman clearly wanted to jump Lod's bones.

Constantine: (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻!

Lod was equally speechless. While he acknowledged his good looks in this world, he didn't think they were enough to make a woman fall head over heels at first sight.

"Meow~"

The black cat stretched lazily, its golden eyes gleaming with amusement as it leapt gracefully from Lod's lap to the floor, curling up by his feet.

"S-Sorry!" Angela snapped out of her thoughts, the blush on her face fading as she hastily added, "Don't misunderstand. I only meant coffee as a thank-you for saving me."

"There's no need to thank me. It was just a small effort."

Lod replied calmly, though a faint look of suspicion crossed his eyes.

Angela forced an awkward smile and avoided further eye contact.

She herself couldn't understand what had come over her. It felt as though some magnetic force was drawing her toward Lod, compelling her to get closer—even to the point of wanting to... have sex with him.

Watching the two exchange flirtatious glances, Constantine felt a pang of frustration, as if his liver was about to burst from sheer rage. The two bastards were flirting in front of him, in his home.

---

Four people and a cat.

Nemu was looking at Lod, Lod was looking at Angela, Angela was sneaking glances at Lod, and Constantine was watching all of them.

"Hey, could you two at least look at me?"

Constantine was feeling sour and couldn't help but say, "You two went to Hell and still have the nerve to flirt? The world might be destroyed, and here you are exchanging glances like teenagers in love!"

Constantine wanted nothing more than to pull out his Winchester and blow Lod's smug face off, but considering their power difference, he had to suppress the tempting thought.

"..." 

Lod was speechless for a moment, then turned to Constantine and said, "Which of your eyes saw me flirting?" 

Constantine, expressionless, pointed to himself and said, "Both of them." 

"No... it's not like that..." 

Angela blushed slightly, lowered her head shyly, and whispered in defense, "I don't know what happened earlier. I just... suddenly felt that way." 

Unfortunately, in Constantine's eyes, her words sounded more like a shy excuse born from embarrassment. 

But Lod and Constantine both knew the reason why she was acting this way. Constantine was just playing the idiot as always. 

Angela was genuinely affected by some mysterious force, which made her show admiration and desire toward a man she had just met. 

Besides, Lod wasn't some walking pheromone dispenser. How could a stranger fall in love with him at first sight? 

"..." 

Lod looked at Constantine, who just winked at him, so he waved it off and said, "Let's get back to the matter at hand." 

Leaning back on the sofa, Constantine lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said, "That's better. This isn't some Hollywood movie—love alone won't save this rotten world!" 

'Actually... it could save the world.'

Lod barely suppressed the urge to retort. He refrained from mentioning Captain America, Thor, and Black Widow—perfect examples of love saving the world. 

Considering Constantine's star-crossed luck, Lod decided against ruining his illusions. 

After another drag, Constantine turned to Angela. "Do you remember what happened to you in Hell?" 

Angela thought for a moment before answering, "I only remember meeting Isabella. She told me to leave Hell quickly and said that someone was targeting me." 

"Anything else?" 

Constantine frowned. The first time he saw her and her unnatural pull toward Hell, it was definitely because some demon was manipulating her. With such limited clues, he couldn't deduce who was targeting Angela or why. So he sent her to Hell. 

When she would've returned from Hell, he would have used a spell to dictate which Hell she went to. Depending on that, he could find out who was targeting her. 

"No... nothing else." 

Angela shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, I can't remember more." 

"And you?" Constantine turned to Lod, fixing him with a sharp gaze. "Did you notice anything while saving her in Hell?" 

Lod recounted the events, "Mammon imprisoned Angela's soul. I encountered one of His avatars in Hell." 

"You met Mammon?" 

Constantine almost dropped his cigarette. "How did you rescue Angela then?" 

Lod smiled faintly. "I killed His avatar." 

"You... actually killed Mammon's avatar in Hell?" 

"Though it was difficult, yes, I killed Him," Lod said calmly. 

"How did you do it?" 

Lod gave him a deep look and said, "You'll find out eventually, but not now." 

"OK, Mystery Man!" Constantine shrugged. He had met enough enigmatic types not to dwell on it. He continued, "Now for the second question: what did you find out about Mammon imprisoning Angela's soul?" 

Lod answered indifferently, "From what I overheard, she's linked to His descent ritual." 

"What!" Angela exclaimed in shock. 

Constantine frowned. "Sigh, I guessed as much. But why Angela? What's her connection to Mammon's descent ritual?" 

"I'm not sure either," Lod admitted. "Aren't you the expert on Hell? Can't you just ask a few demons?" 

'You're overestimating me...' Constantine twitched and said, "They hate me. They'd kill me on sight, let alone spill secrets." 

"That makes things difficult..." 

Lod pondered for a moment before suggesting, "Don't you have friends who can help?" 

"Uh... no, that's out too." 

Constantine looked awkward. "I already tried contacting them, but they hung up the moment they heard my voice." 

"Your social skills suck..." 

"They used to be fine... until some accidents happened." 

"Such as?" 

"I dragged two friends to Hell." 

"Were they willing?" 

"I didn't get a chance to ask." 

"Got it." 

"Glad you understand." 

Angela, listening to their exchange, glared at Constantine with disdain. "Scum!" 

"Thanks for the compliment." 

Constantine didn't care, though a fleeting sadness crossed his eyes. 

Everyone knew Constantine was infamous for dooming his friends, but no one realized he spent five minutes every morning imagining his friends dying because of him. 

This mental exercise wasn't morbid self-pity. It was preparation—so when the day came, he wouldn't be paralyzed by grief and could keep fighting to save this broken world. 

Sensing the somber mood, Lod shifted the topic to redirect Constantine. "Actually, you still have one friend left." 

"Who?" 

"Papa Midnite." 

"He's not dead?" 

"Not entirely. Barely alive." 

"You're ruthless." 

"Right back at you."

---

Midnight Club. 

After two hours, Lod and Constantine returned to the scene. 

As soon as they walked in, Constantine felt like he had stepped into a slaughterhouse. The air was thick with a nauseating stench of blood. 

Drip... drip... 

As they descended to the lower level of the bar, Constantine was stunned. 

Although he had an inkling of what had transpired here, he hadn't anticipated it would be this gruesome though. Every hybrid of angels and demons in the bar was slaughtered. 

Severed limbs and mangled flesh littered the floor, with thick blood seeping through the cracks in the wooden boards, spreading to every corner. 

"Oh God, how many people did you kill?" Constantine frowned and bared the overpowering stench. 

No wonder Lod had told Angela to stay home and even had Nemu accompany her. Clearly, he had foreseen this outcome. 

If a cop saw this scene, they'd likely slap cuffs on Lod without hesitation. 

"Everyone except Midnite," Lod replied calmly, as if he were discussing the weather. 

"You're just like Gabriel..." 

Constantine leaned against the wall, lit a cigarette, "Always acting high and mighty, looking at human lives as if they were weeds." 

"You're mistaken, Constantine," Lod's eyes narrowed slightly. "No one starts off high and mighty. Not me, not Gabriel." 

"That's an interesting perspective. First time I've heard it." 

Constantine took a deep drag of his cigarette, hoping to mask the smell of blood, then asked, "I don't like those bastards either, but why did you kill them?" 

"Does the reason matter?" Lod countered. 

"It does." Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke and chuckled, "I need to confirm that the guy I'm teaming up with isn't some lunatic or... a demon." 

Lod smirked. "Didn't you already confirm through a contract that I'm not a demon?" 

"Anything can fail, including those unreliable contracts." Constantine kept one hand behind his back discreetly. 

He had faced the darkest betrayals and witnessed the ugliest sides of humanity. 

As a result, Constantine trusted no one, not even someone who appeared human. 

A mysterious man tied to a Hell contract yet not under Hell's jurisdiction; someone who could effortlessly slaughter hybrids, rescue lost souls, and even kill a Hell Lord's avatar—Lod was a walking enigma. 

Of course, Constantine's subtle movements didn't escape Lod's eyes, but Lod wasn't concerned. 

Even if Constantine had the means to kill him, the time it would take to cast a spell would give Lod plenty of opportunities to eliminate him ten times over. 

"Come on, man, I just want to know why they had to die. Otherwise, what if you snap and take me out too?" Constantine joked. 

"The reason is simple," Lod said indifferently. "They attacked me first." 

"Attacked you?" 

"Exactly." 

Although Lod smiled, his eyes were icy cold, radiating a chill that could pierce to the bone. "I gave them several chances to back down, but they wouldn't listen." 

"Good job, my friend!" 

Constantine silently mourned them for a second before adding, "I've wanted those scumbags dead for ages. They didn't deserve to live."

Constantine's ability to change his stance faster than flipping a page was nothing short of impressive. 

Lod couldn't be bothered to argue and said, "Midnite is in his secret room. You know how to get in, right?" 

"Of course." 

Constantine patted his chest confidently. "I've had my eye on that secret room for a while. I know the way." 

The two walked through the bar and down a hidden passage behind Midnite's office, eventually reaching a room designed like a chapel. 

Midnite, dressed in his usual attire—suit, hat, scarf, cigar, and gold chain—oozed a gangster vibe. 

But the moment he saw Lod, his face turned pale. 

"Dear Midnite, your old friend has come to visit!" 

Constantine opened his arms, got ready for a hug, but barely took two steps before a double-barrel shotgun was pointed at his head. 

"It's you, Constantine!" 

The fury in Midnite's eyes was almost tangible, as if he could set Constantine ablaze with his glare. 

Because of this walking disaster, Midnite's hard-earned reputation and territory were destroyed in a single night.

"Wait, wait..." Constantine quickly raised his hands. "I know you're pissed, but we're on the same side now. Maybe think about the consequences before you shoot?" 

Using Lod's presence as leverage, Constantine exuded confidence, causing Midnite to hesitate. The shotgun in his hands began to waver. 

"..." 

Midnite's face twisted in frustration. He eventually lowered the gun and gritted his teeth. "The bar's gone, the people are dead. What do you want now?" 

Constantine didn't mince words. "I need to borrow something from you." 

Realizing he had no choice, Midnite suppressed his rage and asked, "What is it?" 

"Your electric chair." 

The electric chair from Sing Sing Prison, it had taken 200 lives, and over time, the despair and regrets of the condemned seemed to imbue the chair with a supernatural power: the ability to rewind time at the user's will. 

Incidentally, this chair was one of Midnite's prized possessions, which he obtained at a significant cost.

"What do you want with it?" Midnite asked warily. "You know what it's capable of. Without a valid reason, I can't let you have it." 

"The question is, do you even have the right to refuse?" Constantine smirked. With Lod backing him, he wasn't afraid of Midnite's disapproval. 

Midnite's expression darkened. 

If not for Lod, he'd have already torn Constantine apart. 

"Come on, Midnite. Aren't we friends?" Constantine grinned shamelessly. 

Midnite sneered, "Because I know you, Constantine, I'm even more worried." 

Constantine sighed dramatically. "Fine, I'll be honest. I'm looking for Balthazar." 

After a moment of silence, Midnite relented. "Promise me you'll leave immediately after using it and never come back." 

"Aw, I thought we were best friends." Constantine pretended to be hurt. 

Midnite scoffed. "We've never been friends. Not before, not now, and not ever."

Saying this, Midnite pulled out a chair with an early 20th-century design, wrapped in tin, from his collection of antiques. He placed it facing east and gestured for Constantine to sit.

Constantine stretched his body, then sat on the electric chair. He also removed his shoes and planted his bare feet on the ground.

Midnite poured a bottle of purified water around the chair, letting the flow soak Constantine's feet, before coldly asking, "Ready, you bastard?"

"Uh... honestly, not really."

Constantine took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

After all, it wasn't every day someone got the chance to experience an electric chair straight out of a 20th-century prison, especially with the added thrill of being shocked.

"Do it!" Constantine exhaled and, with a resolute expression, said, "I'm ready. Let's get started!"

Crack—

Midnite raised a rod with an electrified tip, and with his face twisting into a cruel grin, he stabbed it downward.

Judging from his expression and gaze, Lod suspected that if he wasn't there to supervise, Midnite might've taken personal revenge by shoving the electric rod into Constantine's face.

Zzzzt—

As the rod touched the water on the ground, a surge of powerful electricity instantly coursed into Constantine.

The sensation of being electrified coursed through his entire body, leaving him teetering with agony.

"Ahhhhhh!"

His eyes rolled back, and his body emitted wisps of white smoke.

Watching Constantine suffer, Midnite couldn't suppress the upward curl of his lips. His mood even lightened a little.

If this shock killed Constantine, Midnite figured he'd enjoy it even more.

---

Suddenly, Constantine felt his "field of vision" expand. Time began rewinding before his eyes as countless scenes flickered through his mind like a movie on fast forward.

Knowing time was precious, He didn't delay. He immediately concentrated and visualized Balthazar's appearance in his mind.

"Balthazar…"

"Tell me… where is Balthazar?!"

In the fragmented timeline flashing before him, a surge of immense power suddenly pulled his consciousness into one of the "fragments."

He then witnessed his friends, Father Hennessy and Beeman, being killed by Balthazar for investigating Mammon on his behalf.

Next, he saw an office building located somewhere in Los Angeles. His consciousness moved into the top floor's office, where Balthazar was present.

Dressed in a sleek suit with his hair combed back, Balthazar had the refined demeanor of a gentleman, holding a glass filled with a crimson liquid as thick as blood.

Balthazar's lips moved, indicating he was speaking to someone, though Constantine couldn't see anyone else in the office.

What made Constantine even more curious was the look of fear on Balthazar's face. Who was he talking to?

As Constantine pushed his consciousness closer, he faintly heard some crucial words: "hospital... arrival... twins…"

Just as he tried to move closer, Balthazar let out a scream. Half of his skin began to corrode and rot as if doused with pure holy water.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!"

Balthazar fell to his knees in a pathetic display of apology before turning his face toward Constantine. His expression twisted with rage, and his blood-red eyes locked onto Constantine.

"It's you, Constantine!"

Balthazar spat the words through clenched teeth, with half his face melted.

Constantine's heart sank.

The electric chair allowed his consciousness to rewind time, but in this state, he was defenseless. If his consciousness was killed here, his physical body would become a vegetable.

"Die, Constantine!"

Balthazar's eyes betrayed his fear. If his plans were leaked, the "master" he served would surely send him to heaven.

And as a demon with countless sins, being sent to heaven was a fate worse than death.

"Fuck!"

Constantine shouted and tried to do something. In that split second, he attempted to use a spell that would forcibly pull him from hell—in this case, the chair—and sever his connection to this state.

Hearing Constantine's cry, Lod used a flash step to appear beside the chair. Ignoring the chaotic electrical currents, he grabbed Constantine with his bare hands and yanked him free, then tossed him toward a pillar.

Bang!

Constantine crashed against the pillar, the impact hitting his waist, and let out a pained scream.

'That was an accident...' Lod swore he didn't do it on purpose, nor did he hold a grudge against Constantine's waist.

After rescuing Constantine, Lod shifted his focus back to the electric chair.

This tool, capable of rewinding time for its user, was far too dangerous for him. If someone used it in the future to trace an event back to him, all his carefully constructed identities would be exposed.

This hidden threat could not remain.

With a casual swing of his blade, Lod split the electric chair in half and instantly felt sense of relief.

"Much better..."

Midnite's eyelids twitched as he felt his heart ache. This was his favorite collectible, now reduced to ruins by a single slash.

"My chair..."

'Stay calm, stay calm.' He kept telling himself that collectibles were material possessions. Losing a chair was better than losing his life.

"Ugh…"

Constantine groaned as he struggled to stand. "Could you go easier next time? I think you broke my waist!"

"Next time, for sure," Lod replied while barely suppressing a laugh.

Midnite stared mournfully at the destroyed chair but dared not voice his complaints. Instead, he grumbled, "Constantine, did you find what you were looking for?"

"I did... Balthazar!"

Still clutching his waist, Constantine said, "That guy is definitely connected to Mammon. I saw him talking to someone about the arrival ritual, a hospital, and twins."

"Congratulations. Where to next?" Lod's tone was indifferent, though inwardly, he felt relieved that he had finally steered Constantine toward the right lead.

With rage blazing in his eyes, Constantine growled, "I'm going to get ready, then I'm finding that bastard Balthazar and settling the score!"

Midnite tried to keep his expression emotionless. "Remember your promise, Constantine. Don't ever come to me again."

"Next time, I swear."

After bidding farewell to Midnight, the two walked out of the bar and onto the street. 

To send Constantine off, Midnight even gave them his new car and the keys, he even pleaded for these two troublemakers to leave and never come back. 

"Buckle up, my friend," Constantine said as he sat in the car. He lit up another cigarette and put one hand on the wheel. "Make sure to fasten your seatbelt. My driving speed is beyond imagination!" 

"Just drive already," Lod sighed helplessly. He wanted only to complete the mission and get away from Constantine, as he was far too exhausting to deal with. 

Knowing the story's trajectory in advance but being unable to spoil it was a unique kind of torture. 

He could have directly told Constantine that the mastermind was Gabriel, but spoiling might draw attention from the powers of Heaven and Hell. So he could only watch Constantine piece together the puzzle slowly—a maddening feeling! 

At 3 a.m. in Los Angeles, a car raced wildly down an empty road. Just as Constantine had said, he didn't bother with the brakes. 

"Wait… do you smell that?" Constantine asked, one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding his cigarette. His brow furrowed as he caught a peculiar scent. 

Lod sniffed and said, "It seems like… sulfur?" 

"Sulfur?" Constantine's face changed suddenly. This was bad news, as the smell of sulfur was often intricately linked to demons from Hell. 

Before Constantine could warn Lod, the car suddenly shook violently, and an immense force flipped it over! 

The car was thrown high into the air before plummeting down. Lod reacted swiftly, he grabbed Constantine by his shirt collar, kicked open the windshield, and tossed him out first! 

For some reason, Constantine felt a strange sense of déjà vu. 

In the next instant, he realized why—it was the same as last time. 

Crash! 

Once again, he was thrown sideways, and this time, there was a utility pole conveniently in his path. The impact of flesh against metal produced a teeth-gritting sound, accompanied by Constantine's scream of pain. 

"My back!!!" Constantine howled in agony and clutched his waist as he glared at the culprit. "You did that on purpose! This is the second time!" 

"Uh…" Lod looked embarrassed. This time, it truly wasn't intentional—it was purely coincidental. 

If anyone was to blame, it was Constantine's own bad luck. Who told him to fly into a utility pole? 

"Fuck you! You definitely did it on purpose!" Constantine cried and rubbed his aching back. 

Lod offered an awkward but polite smile, with his eyes involuntarily drifting toward the wrecked car, and a suspicion crept into his mind. 

If he remembered correctly… 

This was the third car to be destroyed, right? 

Once or twice was forgivable, but this was the third time now. Every time they got into a car, they were suddenly attacked. Were the villains targeting vehicles specifically? 

Lod couldn't shake the feeling that he was under some strange curse from a certain "Joe"-type character renowned for destroying vehicles. 

Sparks flew! 

The bright streetlights on both sides of the empty road began to flicker and alternate between light and dark. The snapping of electrical wires filled the air, creating a scene straight out of a horror movie's opening. 

Constantine understood this pattern. 

For some reason, demons always seemed to break lights or wires before appearing, as if it was a necessary ritual to announce their presence and create a creepy atmosphere. 

Constantine shouted into the darkness, "Come out, demon!" 

Bang! Crack! 

The streetlights shattered, and the wires seemed to be torn apart by an unseen force, dropping to the ground and sparking wildly. 

The air was suddenly filled with the stinging smell of sulfur, and from the shadows came the sound of hard-soled shoes striking the pavement. 

A figure slowly emerged from the darkness. Under the moonlight, Lod and Constantine saw the person's face. 

"It's you.... Balthazar!" Constantine was shocked a little. He wasn't expecting the other party to show up so quickly. 

Dressed sharply in a suit with slicked-back hair, Balthazar looked like a confident young man, but his face carried a cold expression as he radiated murderous intent. "Constantine, you're dead tonight. No one can save you!" 

"I don't think so," Constantine replied and shrugged nonchalantly. "I was planning to kill you myself, but since you're in such a hurry to die, who am I to stop you?" 

"Hahaha…" Balthazar laughed cruelly with his eyes filled with malice. "You think you can kill me? What are you planning to do—talk me to death?" 

"Of course not. I do that to my friends, not enemies." 

Constantine lit another cigarette, took a deep drag, and provocatively blew smoke in Balthazar's direction. 

He wasn't joking. 

Constantine never shut up when he was with his friends. 

"Friends? You mean your tools, huh?" Balthazar looked at the man standing next to Constantine. 

This guy looked… incredibly weak! 

He didn't exude any sense of danger or threat. 

"Constantine, you brought a sacrifice with you this time as well. How lovely!" Balthazar wanted to make the man betray Constantine by telling him how he operated. If he could tempt the weak man to his side, Constantine would lose some of his cards. 

"You didn't visit Midnite's bar today, did you?" Constantine suddenly asked a seemingly random question. 

"No. Why? Are you stalling for time, hoping Midnight will come to save you?" Balthazar was confused. He thought Constantine was pinning his hopes on Midnite. 

"No reason. I just wanted to confirm something." Constantine grinned with his eyes oddly friendly. "My Lod, he is yours. Just remember to leave him alive. We have a lot of questions for him." 

"My Lord?" Balthazar became even more confused.

Looking at Balthazar's confused face, Constantine felt like laughing hysterically inside.

The most ironic thing was that this guy still had no idea about the tragedy that had unfolded at the Midnight Club.

It was genuinely pitiful.

When Constantine thought about Balthazar facing Lod next, he couldn't help but grin uncontrollably.

Lod also smiled slightly because he was finally free from running around aimlessly with Constantine.

"I'd like to see if you can still laugh later!"

A crimson gleam flashed through Balthazar's eyes as he spread his arms and let out a sharp, piercing howl toward the sky.

"AHHHHH!"

The sharp howl ripped through the quiet night sky, spreading waves almost as tangible as matter, shattering the asphalt beneath their feet.

A buzzing sound filled the air.

A chilling wind picked up on the desolate street, which carried a putrid stench and an unsettling hum that resembled a swarm of bees.

"Rip them apart!" Balthazar commanded.

The moonlight above was obscured as a massive, irregular shadow formed and engulfed Lod and Constantine.

"He's summoning low-level demons from hell..." Constantine said calmly as he gazed up at the massive, shifting shadow, which was actually a swarm of hideous and grotesque monsters.

The monstrous swarm rushed toward them like a suffocating tide.

Constantine didn't panic because he brought the "Moses' Cloth Fragment." The artifact worked incredibly well against these low-level demons.

"Well, this will be over soon," Lod said calmly with a self-assured smile as he stepped forward alone, heading straight for Balthazar.

"Good luck…"

Constantine didn't stop him. He used the cloth to take care of the low-level demons.

One by one, the demons exploded midair in bizarre, gruesome bursts. Their corpses fell like rain, unable to penetrate the invisible death zone extending ten meters above their heads.

One... ten... a hundred... a thousand...

No matter how many demons charged down recklessly, they all exploded when they came within ten meters of Constantine.

Beings, whether human, demon, or angel, feared the unknown.

When they encountered something beyond comprehension, it induced primal terror.

"This… this can't be!"

Balthazar's confused expression froze, quickly transforming into pure terror. He screamed hysterically, "What's happening? What did you do? Why is this happening?"

Constantine smirked and replied, "Well, my friend, it's because of this."

He held up the cloth, something underneath it pointing upward. Balthazar's attention was drawn to it. Slowly, Constantine pulled the cloth away, revealing his hand—a single middle finger extended toward Balthazar.

Balthazar made a face that is hard to describe.

Seeing this, Lod laughed out loud and approached Balthazar, exuding an aura of composure. Behind him, demons kept falling and detonating.

"Don't… don't come closer!" Balthazar stumbled back in fear, his lips moving as he attempted to cast a curse.

Boom!

There was a deafening noise.

Constantine's vision blurred momentarily, and when he refocused, Balthazar was flying backward at a speed faster than any cannonball.

His body skidded across the concrete, leaving a bloody trench before smashing through three supporting walls of nearby buildings, he only stopped after considerable momentum was lost.

"Urgh!"

Despite being a durable half-demon, Balthazar felt immense pain throughout his body, as though his every bone and muscle was screaming in agony.

"Son of a bitch…"

Before he could curse more, Lod stomped down on his chest.

Crack!

Balthazar screamed in agony as an immense pressure bore down on him, causing the ground beneath to crack and sink under the force. Fissures spread outward like a spiderweb.

'What a terrifying man!' Constantine let out a sigh of relief as he took care of the low-level demons to the last. A high-tier half-demon had been annihilated in an instant.

Knowing Lod had this level of power gave Constantine immense relief.

After all, with a capable ally, he wouldn't have to sacrifice anyone if things went south.

---

"Apologies."

Lod stood on Balthazar's chest and smiled warmly. "I'm not particularly fond of listening to drivel, so this is how it'll work—you answer my questions, and for every wrong answer, I'll baptize you in holy water."

"Holy water bath?" Constantine interjected, his grin turning twisted. "I like that idea. I could even pray for him so he gets to heaven after death."

Lod glanced at Constantine and nodded with satisfaction. "Wishing for a demon to ascend to heaven is indeed what a good human should do."

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you everything!" Balthazar panicked as soon as he heard the words "go to heaven." Without hesitation, he spilled everything he knew.

The gist of it was this:

Mammon wanted to break through the dimensional barrier between hell and the human world. To achieve this, he needed two powerful twin mediums. One of them had to be a believer in God. His chosen targets were naturally Isabella and Angela, the twin sisters.

First, he lured Isabella into committing suicide. According to Catholic doctrine, anyone who commits suicide is damned to hell. This act separated the twins into two dimensions: hell and the human world.

This setup allowed Mammon to use their psychic connection as a medium to attach himself to Angela, the surviving sister, who resided in the human world. That marked the completion of the first step in Mammon's descent ritual.

The second and most crucial step required a specific artifact—God's Blood.

The Spear of Longinus, stained with Jesus' blood, could pierce the veil between dimensions, enabling Mammon to descend fully into the human world.

At that point…

Mammon would be reborn as a new being, possessing hell's power and a human body. He would circumvent the pact between Vishanti, Heaven, and Hell, allowing him to walk freely on Earth.

Balthazar's expression twisted into a grin. "My mission is already complete, Constantine. Did you think I came here to kill you? I was only here to delay you."

"We already knew that…" Constantine lit up another cigarette. "Well…"

Constantine took a long drag from the cigarette and asked, "How long do you think she can hold them off?"

Shing!

A blade pierced through Balthazar's skull.

"Fool. A regular knife can't kill me!" Balthazar sneered.

Lod ignored Balthazar and replied, "Not long."

Constantine replied back as he threw the cigarette. "Well then, we should go now."

But soon...

Balthazar's smugness faded as he felt his soul beginning to vanish.

"What… what kind of power is this? Why is my soul disappearing? This isn't possible! I should be returning to hell!" Balthazar screamed in horror.

The annihilation of his soul meant true death.

Terrified, he looked at Lod and shouted, "Who… what are you?"

"Me?" Lod pondered for a moment before smiling faintly. "Just a Soul Reaper passing by."

(End of Chapter)

TN: The author wrote Constantine as a spineless, incompetent demon hunter who can't even deal with low-level demons while calling him an expert. He panicked constantly and can't figure out that Mammon's target is Angela. After figuring it out He even forgets Angela is Mammon's target three times. Like... What the fuck!

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