Chapter 100 Voodoo Warlock Midnight
“Daddy Midnight’s bar, I’ve always wanted to go in.”
Charlie muttered to express his attitude to Constantine beside him.
But this slutty guy is not interested at all.
I don’t know how many times Constantine was imprisoned for being careless. He lacked the most basic respect for the secular world.
"If you are a psychic, you will naturally be able to get in."
Constantine strode into this basement-like bar with a nearly burned out cigarette in his hand.
He said casually to the guard who showed him the back of a card: "Two frogs on the stool" and walked over.
Charlie imitated Constantine and said the same words to the doorman, but was pushed out by the tall man who did not look like a living person.
The flipped card shows a mouse wearing a skirt, which looks a bit funny.
While Charlie was battling wits with the doorman, Constantine had already met the wizard known for his voodoo.
Dad Midnight, generally people will only call him Midnight, and those gang members will add the term "father they respect" after Midnight.
Midnight's body was always accompanied by a lingering stench, like the smell of a corpse.
But he always dresses like a successful person. Maybe he and Mr. Fisk have a lot in common.
“Midnight, do you still think balance is the most important thing now?”
Constantine smiled cheaply and threw the cigarette butt aside.
"John, I remember I warned you not to litter."
A miserable green flame ignited from the wizard's hand.
"Don't be so serious. I just want to tell you that hell seems to be a bit chaotic recently. Those guys seem to have found some loophole in the barrier and popped up one after another."
Constantine ignored the flames in Midnight's hand, took another cigarette in his mouth, and then stretched his head towards the flames.
"That has nothing to do with me. I only follow balance and remain neutral!"
The fire in Midnight's hand disappeared before helping Constantine light the cigarette.
"I just came to ask if you have seen anything..."
Before Constantine finished speaking, a guy he was very familiar with walked in.
“Ah, Constantine, I miss you so much.”
A guy dressed like a lawyer or CEO walked in with tango steps.
In terms of arrogance, this guy seems to be slightly comparable to Constantine.
"Balza? Long time no see."
Constantine turned his head and looked at the guy who interrupted him, one hand already reaching into the inner pocket of his windbreaker.
“Bang!”
"In my territory, you'd better abide by my rules!"
Midnight slapped his hands on the table and stopped this possible conflict with an angry attitude. By the way, he also swore his sovereignty. .
"Ah, Midnight, my old friend! How could I embarrass you?"
Constantine reached into his pocket and took out a box of matches, and struck the flame , lit the cigarette in his mouth.
Balza's completely black eyes flashed with almost undetectable red light. His hand took out a coin from his pocket and was playing with it on his fingertips.
"You know, I would never lie to a friend."
Constantine walked to Balza's side, turned around and stood in line with Balza, and then winked at Midnight.
"Being your friend never ends well."
Midnight's cold tone indicated that this guy was not very happy.
"How could it be? You think so? Balza, my old buddy and old friend."
Constantine put his hand directly on Balza's shoulder, showing that the two brothers were in good company.
"If you take that damn shroud out of my pocket." Balza sneered in response to Constantine.
“These are the sacred objects collected by the priest in the church. They can protect you from evil spirits. How can you refuse my kindness?”
Constantine With a shocked expression, he silently pulled out the shroud and stuffed it back into his windbreaker pocket.
"I think you need it more than I do, Constantine. Every guy in hell has asked me to say hello to you, and some of them can't wait."
Balza's originally handsome face suddenly changed. It becomes like dry, dead skin.
He, Balza, is a demon born from the fire that controls the insect swarm. No shroud is needed to ward off demons.
On the contrary, what he needs to guard against is the power from heaven and the church.
“Constantine, it’s time for you to go!”
"The person you called John before is now Constantine. It's really a new generation replacing the old one."
Constantine's response made Midnight's body emit a gloomy darkness that was visible to the naked eye. Green gas, Midnight no longer intends to tolerate this guy.
"Okay, I still have things to do."
Constantine faced the two people in the room and backed away.
Smoothly dragged Charlie, who was waiting at the door, into the car.
"You know, Charlie."
Constantine put away the smile on his face, silently inhaled the last puff of cigarette into his lungs, and then lit another one.
"Go back to the office, okay. But you should teach me some exorcism techniques. Two people are better than one."
A young man named Charlie complained.
But Constantine didn't respond.
Just like what Midnight said, none of his friends ended well.
......
"We have taken over this case now!"
Rumlow appeared in the office of the Major Crime Squad and showed the police officer who was still having a headache. own documents.
Of course, it is the FBI ID.
When S.H.I.E.L.D. handles matters, it will always produce agency credentials within its purview.
"Thank God, you're finally here!"
As if relieved, the police officer pushed everything on the table in front of Rumlow.
"Sign the confidentiality agreement, right? Come on, I've been working overtime for a long time!"
The police officer took the agreement away from the agent behind Rumlow, cleanly He signed his name neatly.
"Then you get busy first, I'm off work. Bye! Remember to turn off the lights before you leave!"
The police officer's figure had disappeared around the corner before Rumlow and the others could react.
"Have you ever worked like this before?"
Rumlow suddenly wanted to find a bottle of liquor and take a few sips.
"Generally not."
The agent behind him said these words leisurely.
"But he is an exception. No matter where this guy is transferred, he will encounter this kind of thing. I have met him seven or eight times."
This is not counting others. Agent's case.
"Maybe he should be transferred to S.H.I.E.L.D."
Rumlow took a long breath and started spitting out an old joke from nowhere.
(End of this chapter)