Chapter 271: The World Is Saved, But What About Me?

PS: The next chapter will be a bit later.

Gary Lester was born a loser.

He bought ice from street thugs, learned magic from a motley collection of shoddy spellbooks, befriended Constantine, and even went to New Orleans with him.

The last three things he did in his life: the first was releasing Nemo, the second was finding Constantine and begging him to fix the mess he had created—as for the third, that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Funny enough, his entire life had been a blur, yet his death might hold more meaning than his whole life combined.

Whether that statement was right or wrong, at least Constantine convinced himself of it deep down.

"Come on, listen, Gates is an idiot; he brought this on himself." Constantine vented furiously in bed, shouting at the four "people" by the window: "Of course you can just die and look down on what I've done—regardless of any guilt, I, the scum, am the one who has to bear it; I'm the one who has to deal with them!"

Guilt is proof of survival—that was the phrase he had used countless times to comfort himself in his heart, repeating it over and over to hypnotize himself into a good night's sleep.

"Alright, I'm done." He spoke coldly to the four spirits in the room: "Now, you can get out; I'm going to sleep—remember to close the door when you leave."

Moments later, the room plunged into darkness; star-like points of light filtered in through the window, bringing a faint glow. This was the top of the skyscraper; the sounds of traffic and pedestrians could barely penetrate, making the room seem even more silent.

Constantine curled up in bed, unable to sleep.

Moments later, he turned the lights back on, scanning the empty room—there was nothing around him, only himself.

A suffocating sense of loneliness surged in his heart; a second ago, he had been cursing and telling Emma and the others to leave, but the next second, he began to miss them, missing Emma's soft embrace.

He turned off the lights, drew the curtains, and lay stiffly back on the bed; this time, the suffocating darkness completely enveloped him.

"Goodnight, John."

In the drowsy state between sleep and wakefulness, a gentle female voice sounded by Constantine's ear, completely crushing his fragile nerves.

Constantine buried his head in the pillow, suppressing the tears welling in his eyes and his low sobs; moments later, the corner of his mouth tasted the wet tears, salty and bitter.

Ma Ma Zhaodi clicked off the bug and walked into the Midnight Building.

He couldn't bear to listen anymore.

After parting ways with Constantine, he had harbored some doubts, so he followed behind, wanting to see what the man was up to.

Turns out the guy actually took a taxi to the casino.

After Scum Constantine ran into the casino, he didn't follow him inside; he wasn't a gambler, nor did he have any particular fondness for gambling; this stuff didn't count as a labor method recognized by the System, so it couldn't help him increase his Asset Points.

So he turned around and went back to the church first, wanting to ensure no one would be clumsy enough to peel off the Talismans above; fortunately, the priest reacted quickly, and when Ma Ma Zhaodi returned, he saw that the man had already temporarily recruited several church personnel to isolate the church.

Ma Ma Zhaodi simply asked for the priest's phone number and informed Midnight of both the number and the news about the church. After finishing these urgent matters, with nothing else to do, he headed straight back to the Midnight Building.

Only after returning to his room did he realize that Constantine still hadn't come back, nor had he explained his plans for the next day; this was highly unusual—it was already late at night; could the guy be spending the whole night at the casino?

Although generally speaking, comics wouldn't feature such a bizarre scene as "the world is destroyed because someone ran off to gamble and missed the world-saving plan for the next day," yet if the person involved was Constantine, the possibility of such a situation occurring was small, but absolutely not zero.

So he unlocked the door to Constantine's room, confirmed no one was inside, casually placed a bug under the bed, and then headed out toward the Midnight Casino.

Strangely, he circled the casino inside and out twice, yet he never saw a trace of Constantine, nor did he hear his voice; every sign indicated that the guy wasn't in the casino.

So he found a waiter, tipped him a small amount, and asked if he had seen a blond British guy in a trench coat; only then did he learn that Constantine had actually come looking for Midnight, but simply hadn't found him.

What exactly was he planning to do tonight?

Ma Ma Zhaodi was full of doubts; at the time, he hadn't dared to place a bug directly on Constantine, first because the guy was a mage, and second because the man was an old con artist who might well have noticed what he was doing. But now, he began to feel a bit regretful; this silence looked exactly like someone plotting something big.

It wasn't until he was walking on the street that he heard Constantine's voice coming from the bug.

"Jesus, what evil have I done to deserve this suffering!"

Hearing Constantine's hysterical voice, Ma Ma Zhaodi raised an eyebrow—his emotions seemed somewhat unstable.

"Damn it, what do you want! Why stuff my damn room full of dead people?"

Oh, this was getting explosive.

Ma Ma Zhaodi immediately grabbed his bicycle and rushed toward the Midnight Building, pricking up his ears to catch every word carefully—he knew Scum Constantine, that bird of a man, was never short of gossip, and he was going to feast on the drama.

But by the time he arrived at the foot of the Midnight Building, he found he couldn't eat the melon anymore.

"On what grounds do you look down on me! What do you want me to say? Aventi killed you, so I'm very sad—I'm damn well sad, do you know? It damn near killed me too!"

"Just like Lester; he's going to become a pawn now—but do you think I don't want to find another way!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi's expression suddenly turned serious; he never expected to overhear Constantine's past and his struggles.

Most importantly, he had already figured out what Constantine planned to do to Lester—setting up such a scheme against his own friend, he truly deserved the title of scum.

But what he said afterward was correct, because this was the only way to destroy Nemo; if no one was willing to do this dirty work, New York would be finished.

Someone always has to be the one to strike the blow, but not everyone is willing to be the one to strike the blow—and Constantine was too perfect for this role.

But people got one thing wrong: Constantine wasn't born evil; he knew what was right and what was wrong.

Thus, occasionally in the dead of night when he was alone, when he closed his eyes, he would hear the silent accusation of the world from the deepest part of his heart.

The world is saved, but what about me?

Where can the soul named "Constantine" find a place to rest?

(End of Chapter)