Chapter 260: Never Look Back

"The jungle guerrillas found him and sold him to slave traders for some tobacco—I didn't witness that part."

"I was a fool; I should have stayed to supervise him on his path to death."

The withered old man covered his face with both hands, reliving that cruel past once more, which already caused him immense pain, but the white sacrifice of that child made him feel even more despair and shame.

Constantin patted his shoulder comfortingly: "Actually, in our line of work, 'never look back' is a true saying."

Ma Ma Zhaodi wiped the tears from his face; seeing the priest wave wearily to signal their departure, he and Constantin walked out of the tent together.

"I never want to experience something like that again," he said to Constantin. "My body out of control, my mind scattered, completely unprepared for external threats... and having to watch helplessly as I do such things with my own hands."

Constantin smiled bitterly and lit a cigarette for himself: "Do you know why I say 'never look back'?"

"... Why?"

"Because too many damn ghosts are following behind us."

Under the blood-red setting sun, the black silhouettes of the two men stretched extremely long, extremely long, across the desolate Gobi Desert.

Constantin stumbled along the downhill path; at this very moment, the herbs were still wreaking havoc in his stomach, making his legs as soft as two strands of noodles.

"How did you do it?" he turned his head to look at Ma Ma Zhaodi beside him; if not for the tears the other man had shed in the tent just now, he would have almost thought this person was completely unaffected by the herbs, or perhaps hadn't even eaten them.

"What?"

"Isn't your stomach uncomfortable? Aren't your legs weak?"

"My constitution is better," Ma Ma Zhaodi replied. "You might think I'm quite thin, but in reality, my strength and speed surpass many people's."

"What, are you some kind of superhuman from outer space? Or a super-soldier injected with military serum?"

"Not quite that exaggerated, just enough to survive in Gotham—never mind that, what should we do next?"

"Next?" Constantin shrugged. "Next, you transfer the final payment to me."

"That's easy enough."

Ma Ma Zhaodi had no objection to this; it was a contract with a fixed price, and naturally, the money should be transferred after clarifying the matter.

After he finished the transfer on his phone, he asked again: "Now what?"

"Now we each go back to our own homes."

"?"

"What's wrong, is there a problem?" Constantin asked. "Your commission was to investigate the full story of the whole matter; now the truth has come to light, you've also given candy to those children, and your curiosity and kindness have been satisfied—isn't that enough?"

"But the focus now is Namos; how should It be handled?"

Constantin shrugged: "If you want to handle It, that's a different price."

"Is that what I want to do? Isn't it that you must handle It? Gary Lester, as the first person to release It, is probably already being targeted by It, right? Moreover, back in Africa, It was already able to ravage a village, and now Its power has begun to grow further—if we let It continue to grow, the next thing to suffer will be a town, or even a city."

Ma Ma Zhaodi summarized: "So, you must resolve this matter; not only that, your actions must be fast enough, otherwise, Namos will sooner or later evolve into an insurmountable powerful Hungry Spirit."

"You're right," Constantin chuckled. "Seeing as I was going to deal with It anyway, I can charge you only forty thousand dollars."

Ma Ma Zhaodi couldn't help but laugh in anger: "Damn it, Constantin, are you that short on money?"

"I'm not short on money," Constantin sneered. "I just don't like fifty-dollar cold drinks."

"Very well, you'd better not fall into my hands again; next time, the drink will cost five thousand dollars."

The flight leaving Africa cut through the sky; here, the sky had not a trace of clouds or moisture, only an endless blue.

Ma Ma Zhaodi looked down at the ground through the airplane window, seeing black figures of people walking wearily on the dry, cracked earth; as the plane climbed higher and higher, these figures gradually turned into insect-like black dots.

"People look like insects, don't they?"

Constantin sat beside him, gazing calmly at this land: "But the world is just like that, never swaying by human will."

"Stop pretending to be profound, you charlatan, and eat your airplane meal."

Mentioning the airplane meal, Constantin immediately put on a mask of pain; this time he had left in such a hurry that he forgot to buy some sandwiches to take on the plane.

Ma Ma Zhaodi ignored him, casually pulled a hamburger out of his pocket, and started eating it right in front of him.

For the rest of the day, the two of them stayed almost entirely on the plane; after arriving in London, they went to a restaurant and learned that the fat man had actually woken up in the hospital again and had already boarded a flight to New York yesterday.

"I knew it," Constantin sighed. "Namos has now reached New York, which is why the same Hungry Spirit incidents are appearing there as here."

"But why did It go to New York?"

"The magic bottle that could contain It was mailed there."

"Tsk."

Constantin sent Chase home, while he and Ma Ma Zhaodi picked Lester up from the house; after briefly explaining things to Mrs. M, the three of them boarded another flight to New York.

Ma Ma Zhaodi noticed that no flies were gathering around Lester again; he didn't know if this was because Constantin's room had some defensive formation; in any case, this unlucky fellow was indeed safe now.

He glanced at Constantin beside him; this guy was still distracted, probably still thinking about the affairs in Africa, which made him feel a bit strange, because according to his Stamp Imprint, Constantin was not a very conscientious person—could he really be so compassionate toward the world?

Thirty-six hours later, on the Brooklyn Bridge in New York, USA.

The taxi's car radio crackled, the host's voice chattering endlessly in the radio, as if what he was saying wasn't real news but a thrilling supernatural novel.

"Citizens, do you know what's happening outside? —Just today, jewelry merchant Bruce Parker on West 57th Street swallowed gems alive and died in his shop window; another boss tried to devour his secretary alive in his office—friends, only in New York can you hear such strange tales, don't change the channel! We will bring you more detailed information immediately!"

As news item after news item was reported from the radio, Ma Ma Zhaodi's heart sank little by little; in just two short days, the nourishment Namos had obtained in this city was terrifying.

This city before his eyes would probably soon become Its paradise, becoming a veritable Hall of Ten Thousand Demons.

(End of this chapter)