Chapter 280: Did I Become the Backup Plan?

The next day, Ma Ma Zhaodi bought a plane ticket back to Gotham City.

"This trip turned out a little more complicated than I expected." He bit into a piece of fried fish, then tried a French fry, and said to Constantine: "Can you believe it? From the moment I landed at the airport and entered London until now, after all this time, I've only just now had my first bite of British food."

"That's not bad." Constantine casually flipped a page of the newspaper and gave Ma Ma Zhaodi a grin: "Once this meal is over, you'll have eaten everything in Britain that's fit to eat."

". You're being a bit extreme."

"Maybe, at most add a Greggs, that stuff tastes alright—but other than that, sorry, nothing else, at least I don't think so."

Ma Ma Zhaodi looked at Constantine skeptically and asked: "Really nothing else?"

"Ever heard of Stargazy Pie? A flatbread with a dozen dead fish heads stuck in it—you can't possibly want to eat that too, can you?"

"Well, I have heard of it."

Constantine didn't find anything interesting in the newspaper, and bored out of his mind, he tossed it on the table and asked in a lowered voice: "I've been wanting to ask since yesterday—how exactly did you do it?"

"I have a prop that can help me avoid one, uh, special situation." Ma Ma Zhaodi answered his question: "You've seen it, that little totem on the phone charm, although it's already disappeared now."

"That thing has that kind of ability?!" Constantine felt his professional expertise of over a decade being seriously challenged: "There's no trace of magic on it whatsoever, no signature of any sect or magician—actually, the thing looks exactly like a kid's doodle—and most importantly, a person couldn't just pull that off so easily. It would definitely require considerable power, perhaps an equal Sacrificial Offering, and you'd have to negotiate with one side in advance."

"I'm a bit different from you lot, I don't quite fit into this world, there's no place for me here to begin with." Ma Ma Zhaodi explained: "But you lot are different, just as you said, every one of you was born and raised here, karmic ties and fate have wrapped themselves around you layer upon layer—especially something like yesterday, going against fate like that is harder than reaching the heavens."

"Interesting." Constantine listened to Ma Ma Zhaodi's explanation and thought silently: "'Someone not born and raised here,' that sounds like some kind of visitor from beyond the universe."

"No, I mean the service doesn't work across regions—the Western theology on your side and the Eastern underworld on mine, there's no extradition agreement between the two."

". So, if Lester had used that prop, he might not have been able to do it like you did?"

"He most likely couldn't have done it like I did, he might have just died outright."

Ma Ma Zhaodi didn't speak in absolutes, but in fact, the system's prompt at the time was: 【This prop cannot take effect on this target in the current event】

Probably, in the original fate, Lester had indeed perished together with Namos.

"Alright then." Constantine sighed: "I guess things don't always go as one wishes, Traces and Magic can never be free in this life."

"Anyway, if you need anything, come find me." Ma Ma Zhaodi wiped his mouth: "Paid Traces and Magic aren't bad either, don't worry—I have fixed prices."

Constantine pursed his lips, pulled out another Silk Cut, and lit it for himself.

"Smoke less."

"You're not a bag of bones right now, two puffs won't kill you."

Ma Ma Zhaodi sighed, stood up, and walked out of the restaurant.

"How does that saying go—a leopard can't change its spots."

"Of course, you could put it another way—fate has its own plans for you."

When Ma Ma Zhaodi woke up, the plane had already landed at Gotham's airport.

"Good, at least nothing went wrong this time."

After walking out of the airport, he casually hailed a cab and headed to his little shack—on the way he even spotted a few prisoners sent out to work, and it was clear that Gotham's prison labor system was still running steadily these past few days.

Performing dialysis on the city's blood is a long-term project, Ma Ma Zhaodi wasn't impatient—at least for now, this city could be called safe and sound.

Of course, the crime rate might be a bit higher, but there's always a gap between the battle report and the front line, the situation is actually quite a bit better than it looks.

"Sigh, I miss you so damn much!"

The moment he stepped through the door, Ma Ma Zhaodi enthusiastically hugged—his own body pillow.

Mm, he went to nest.

It happened to be the dead of night, if you're not sleeping then what? Working?

Isn't that inhumane?

With such thoughts, Ma Ma Zhaodi entered his dream—

"You went to England, Africa, America, but I couldn't find any image records of that flight you took out of Gotham."

Can't get into it at all.

Just right, still that familiar feeling.

After so long without hearing that hoarse, dark, utterly emotionless voice, Ma Ma Zhaodi was actually a bit nostalgic.

But mostly he was annoyed—the other guy seemed to have some kind of talent for pissing people off, just a casual sentence was enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

So he warmly inquired after his old friend's health: "Are you sick in the head or something?"

"Have you looked at the time? Do you know what hour it is? Do you have any self-awareness that you're disturbing people? I need to sleep, bro."

At this moment, Ma Ma Zhaodi's surging urge to roast could no longer be contained, and burst out all at once: "Why do you always come through the window? I've told you so many times to use the door, when will you ever listen to a human being for once? And Chief Gordon said you've been busy, Alfred said you've been pulling all-nighters lately—no time to see guests, but you have time to investigate me, huh? You really not worried about dropping dead?"

However, the pointy-eared bat paid no attention to his words, still with that same willful style, he continued: "Something happened in London and New York, someone died—died in a strange way."

"What are you getting at?"

"A long time ago, I vaguely sensed that there are realms in this world beyond science and common sense—if I had to describe it, it would be what people commonly call 'magic.'"

"And then?"

"I know a bit about your traveling companions—John Constantine, the Midnight Father, Gary Lester—you even went to a tribe in Sudan."

Ma Ma Zhaodi began groping around, looking for something suitable to throw at someone.

"Are you sick?" he asked: "I go out for a trip and you investigate this thoroughly? You're not doing your job in Gotham anymore?"

"Since the Holiday Killer incident, I've set up some intelligence-gathering arrangements in England, so I wouldn't be caught flat-footed." Batman replied: "It doesn't take much time."

Ma Ma Zhaodi was left speechless.

"The people traveling with you don't have great reputations, and the tribe you visited also had rumors of black magic—I hope you haven't gone astray."

"Oh god. No! I went to save the world! Not to destroy it!" Ma Ma Zhaodi clutched his head in agony: "Damn. That's just Constantine's social circle, what can I do about it?"

". So, you do have the ability to protect Gotham from attacks by certain mysterious forces?"

Hearing this sentence, Ma Ma Zhaodi finally understood,

"WTF, I've become the backup plan?"

(End of Chapter)