Metropolis.
As Zatanna stepped out of her apartment, she saw an old black Ford parked outside.
A brown-haired man in a trench coat, with highly polished black leather shoes, leaned against the car, puffing on a cigarette and surveying his surroundings.
"I heard you learned a new top hat spell, Little Zha."
Upon seeing Zatanna, the brown-haired man greeted her.
"I'm really eager to see it now."
"You're such a piece of shit! Constantine! I told you to stay away from me, and yet you're sticking to me like shit again."
Zatanna said to the man named Constantine.
Constantine, whose real name is John Constantine, is known as Hellblazer or Scumbag Constantine, a decadent man who loves to smoke.
Unlike traditional mages and superheroes, his actions completely disregard the so-called superhero code; he is eccentric, acts purely on his own preferences, and has no rules or goals. In his world, there is no justice or morality, only his own interests and survival are paramount.
"I've never denied that about this matter."
Constantine took a puff from his cigarette, exhaled a smoke ring, and said, "If you're angry at me because of your father's disappearance, I will bear all your curses."
"Then tell me, where is my father?"
Zatanna asked with a frown.
"If I could, I would definitely tell you, but most of the time we are people caught in the vortex of fate, dizzy with our own destinies, how could we possibly have the energy to reveal the destinies of others?"
Constantine, with one hand in his pocket, said to Zatanna, "Let's get back to the main topic, did you find anything at the theater?"
"No."
Zatanna said coldly.
"Hmm, your magic, like everyone else's, is in disarray, so it's expected that you found nothing. You must not use backward magic now, or the consequences will be unimaginable."
Constantine warned Zatanna, "Your only remaining weapons are your wisdom and will, Little Zha, it's time to decide your will and stance."
"Is that so? What should my will and stance be like? Constantine, can you tell me?"
"I don't know, but there's more than one way to decide who to fight alongside."
"Including you?"
Zatanna asked Constantine.
"Perhaps not me, after all, in your eyes, I'm just a con artist."
After finishing his cigarette, Constantine tossed the butt away.
"But once things change, I can adapt properly, most so-called mages can't, because they think they'll fail from the start."
Constantine, with both hands in his pockets after finishing his cigarette, said to Zatanna, "After 'The Great Slumber,' the air in the magical world has become somewhat foul. Now, any mage is trapped by themselves; once they cast a spell, they will suffer magical backlash, either being burned by flames or transforming into an alien monster. The only way to avoid destruction is to completely abandon magic, but for them, that's impossible."
"Do you know about the Salem Club incident?"
Zatanna suddenly interrupted Constantine and asked him.
"Of course, I was there."
Constantine said, "A bunch of half-baked mages wanted to play a summoning game, and they ended up burned to skeletons by witchfire. Such things happen every day, everywhere. What we need to do is hold on and not be affected by that fire; as for saving anyone, that's too far-fetched."
"Hmm, judging by your tone, Constantine, I'm 100% sure that those half-baked mages were killed by witchfire because of you."
Zatanna said, frowning.
"You always overestimate me; sometimes the strength I can exert isn't as great as you imagine."
Constantine immediately denied it.
"It's not overestimating you, because you are such an asshole."
"Between a piece of shit and an asshole, if I had to choose, I'd still choose a piece of shit, after all, it means I'm still liked by an animal, unlike an asshole who's hated by everyone."
Constantine walked forward with his hands in his pockets.
As his figure gradually disappeared into the shadows, he stopped and said, "Eric Kent, you must have heard that name, right? The Great Slumber has some connection with his strange book; perhaps he's the one who can break the situation."
With that, he turned and left.
Zatanna watched his retreating back, then turned to look at the old Ford again.
It wasn't his car, so why was he acting like the owner, showing off so brazenly?!
And…
Did this scumbag also notice Eric Kent?
Should she warn Eric Kent?
After all, once he's targeted, it always feels like something bad will happen.
Forget it!
Zatanna shook her head. Constantine wasn't a good person, and Eric Kent wasn't a good person either.
Why should she worry so much?
Meanwhile, Eric, who was on Constantine's mind and considered by Zatanna not to be a good person, found himself in a dark, deep, and lifeless place after being magically transported by Lana and her two companions.
The entire space was filled with the smell of Death and decay. Above him were pitch-black cracks, intertwined like infinitely extending veins or blood vessels, resembling Death itself.
Looking up into the distance, hazy yellow gas drifted in, smelling of sulfur, giving a very uncomfortable feeling.
The ground was covered with thick, dry, wood-like material; stepping on it produced a heart-stopping sensation.
Eric bent down and picked up a withered branch from the ground.
The black gas covering it quickly dispersed, revealing its true form.
A white human thigh bone.
Tossing the thigh bone in his hand, Eric's brows furrowed slightly.
Had he arrived in hell?
Hell also exists in the DC world, with legendary figures like Lucifer and Hades. Although they rarely appear on Earth, these dimensional beings are existences that even his current self cannot be confident of defeating.
As for the witch possessing Lana, he initially thought she was an amateur sorceress, but she was able to send him to hell. Someone with this level of magic certainly wasn't just an ordinary mage.
With many thoughts flashing through his mind, Eric took out his Cosmic Scepter and used it as a flashlight to illuminate the surrounding space.
The hazy, gray weather prevented even his Super Vision from penetrating, which significantly heightened his vigilance.
He walked forward along the deserted path, observing his surroundings while thinking about how to escape.
The power that filled his body wasn't completely lost; he just felt it being subtly suppressed.
Had his strength also weakened considerably?
Shaking his head, Eric continued to walk forward.
After passing through a place filled with Death and desolation, Eric arrived at a swiftly flowing river.
Various black, humanoid figures floated on the overcast river.
They must be the vengeful spirits drowned in the river.
Eric casually tossed a piece of shredded paper he carried into the water.
It was Lionel's business card, which he hadn't expected to still be in his pocket after being transported here.
After marveling at the tenacious vitality of Lionel's business card, Eric looked at the paper.
The moment the paper shred touched the river water, it sank into the lake.
A river where even paper sinks—this must be the legendary Styx, known as the "Feather-Sinking River"!
Eric gazed at the river, which exuded a strange aura, his eyes filled with caution.
Should he try to fly across?
Standing up and looking at the other side of the river, Eric considered whether to fly across the Styx.
Forget it!
He had never heard of anyone being able to fly across the Styx.
Dismissing the risky idea of "flying across the Styx" from his mind, Eric continued to look towards the other side of the river.
The distant mist dispersed, and the shadow of a boat glided from the other side of the river.
A person completely wrapped in a black robe, with an indiscernible face, rowed the boat.
After bringing the boat to the shore, the figure in the black robe glanced at Eric.
"Do you intend to take a ride, stranger from a distant journey?"
The person in the black robe asked him, their voice carrying a hint of coldness as if from a far-off land.
"Are you Charon?"
Eric asked the other party.
He knew that in legend, the Styx had a ferryman responsible for carrying the dead across.
He hadn't expected to encounter this legendary boatman.
Hearing Eric's question, Charon took off the hood he wore, revealing an old man's face with a goatee.
Eric nodded, "If we're talking about the most famous boatmen in the world, you'd certainly be one."
"Whether living or dead souls, I will carry them across the river."
Charon seemed not to have heard Eric's words, his eyes fixed on Eric with a keen gaze.
"If you don't have a coin, then you cannot cross the river, stranger."
"As for coins, especially those related to ancient Greece…"
Eric said, handing him a silver coin with a flying eagle engraved on its back.
He had "borrowed" it from Wonder Woman.
Earlier, during his fight with Wonder Woman, his Heat Vision had shot off the silver coin covering her chest.
He took advantage of Wonder Woman's distraction to pick it up from the ground as his spoils of war.
Although the silver coin had always been on Wonder Woman's chest, it felt a bit strange for him to collect it now.
But Eric could swear he only treated the silver coin as a war trophy and had no other indecent intentions.
The Olympian silver coin, which he had previously considered a trophy, was now given to Charon as payment for the ferry.
Charon glanced at the Cosmic Scepter in Eric's hand, then allowed Eric to board the boat.
Once Eric was on board, Charon began to row the oars.
The small boat immediately moved forward.
Eric sat in the stern, quietly observing the scenery of the Styx.
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