Chapter 552

Los Angeles, the newly built street is wide, and the dusk sunlight shines brightly upon it.

Constantine, a model citizen, smokes a cigarette as he watches low, streamlined cars from the 80s and 90s honk past; a bearded, fat American in classic country style leans out of the driver's window, giving him the middle finger and cursing his parents.

"Not an illusion, no trace of magic—looks like I really came back." He pulls out the exorcist revolver from his trench coat, checks the bullets, spins the cylinder, and replies to the bearded fat man:

"Do you believe in Christ?"

The bearded fat man shakes his head, silent as a frozen frog.

"Good. Keep it that way."

Constantine strides across the crosswalk; coconut and palm trees sway near Venice Beach, the sea breeze brushing his face with a chill.

He walks straight into a building nearby adorned with Renaissance-style reliefs.

A massive painting of Christ's death hangs above the fireplace; dry wood crackles and pops in the flames, while neatly arranged bookshelves line the walls, filled with religious texts.

It looks like a library.

"Where is she?!" Constantine stares at the wavy-haired woman sitting on the sofa, her back to him:

"Gabriel, where's Angela?!"

Gabriel sways her wine glass, calmly saying: "Angela is right in front of you."

"I mean Officer Angela," Constantine emphasizes; he has zero interest in Gabriel's jokes.

"You're impatient, fearful, desperate," Gabriel turns her head to glance at Constantine, puzzled:

"Tell me, John."

"What happened? You didn't hand the Spear of Destiny to that Messiah."

Her gaze sweeps over Constantine's chest.

"He's dating someone. Has no time for me."

Constantine exhales and says:

"Listen, let Angela go. I'm done. Leave me alone."

"If you or Michael or Raphael want to confirm God's condition, go check yourselves."

Gabriel looks puzzled, then offers him a glass of whiskey.

"Calm down. Whatever happened, you can trust me. Tell me what happened, John."

Gabriel asks: "Why mention the Merciful Father?"

"You don't know?" Constantine struggles to control his emotions, voice trembling:

"He's dancing with the Dimensional Witch right there, and his servant Lucifer is destroying countless worlds as their soundtrack!"

"He's the Fallen God! He long ago perished, but due to the inverted position, fused with the Eastern Heaven Emperor into a new being!"

"Now, for that witch, he willingly fell!"

"No—it was the witch. The witch seduced him into falling!"

That scene, he might never forget until death: the light of apocalypse blinding his eyes, the rhythm of calamity like the most terrifying death dirge, performed as a spectacle.

Constantine is explaining what he saw, but Gabriel's expression grows increasingly strange as she begins to understand:

"John, this isn't a hospital, but if you need treatment—"

Constantine shakes his head, drains the whiskey in one gulp; a wave of helplessness floods his body as he suddenly looks up at the chandelier.

"Is He there?"

What if the God he meets isn't the same one from his world? Maybe He's the God from Deadpool's down-on-his-luck universe?

Maybe God has departments, regional divisions—and all those movie settings are just embellishments, like historical figures boasting about themselves.

It's entirely possible.

"Gabriel, you and I saw the Son in that place," Constantine murmurs:

"The Son, the Holy Spirit, the Father—three in one. Your all-seeing eyes wouldn't mistake Him."

"Is He our God?"

Gabriel says: "John, you know the difference between context and reality. He is indeed the Messiah—but not the one I once knew."

"As for the Merciful Father—impossible."

Hearing this, Constantine feels better; he stares blankly at Gabriel, a glimmer of hope lighting his eyes.

"Really?"

"Of course."

Gabriel smiles.

"Why don't you use magic to share what you saw with me?"

Constantine is about to explain when the building begins to shake violently; Gabriel calmly sets down her glass.

"It's after you, John."

"Looks like the trouble you stirred up has come knocking."

The chandelier flickers and goes out with a sudden explosion.

The doors burst open; hundreds of figures in black Sui Xifu stand lined up outside the building.

"Officer Angela is inside—you can go find her." Gabriel draws a long sword from thin air: "Mammon still wants to come to the mortal realm, even though I tore up my pact with him."

"You leave first. Tonight, some special guests arrived."

Thud—

A beam of crimson flame Xiong Xiong ignites; a hand raises the flame, symbolizing the scorching, terrifying sun—heat and fire, the demon Nega'er, ruler of plague and war.

Now, Nega'er—Constantine's longtime enemy he's crossed many times—wears armor, his expression solemn, yet he bears no demonic traits, resembling a dignified deity.

Moreover, holy light surges from Nega'er's body; from the mysterious gate behind him, an endless army marches forth—

—the Eternal Punishment Legion

Nergal and his legion simply appeared directly in the mortal realm?!

"No."

Constantin staggered back a step.

"Humanity needs peace and a healthy mode of existence—your arrival is a catastrophe for the mortal world!" Nergal glared coldly at Gabriel:

"Gabriel, return to where you belong!"

At this moment, Nergal

was acting insane!

Constantin swore this was the second-most absurd dream of his entire life!

He knew this demon god held the role of head of the secret police, but what wind had blown through to make him remember his duties today?!

"Come on, Constantin!" Gabriel stepped in front of Constantin, his black wings emerging behind him, crimson eyes fixed on Constantin:

"Guard the Spear of Destiny at all costs!"

The glass in Constantin's hand slipped down his limp arm and shattered on the floor.

He stared, utterly frozen, at Gabriel—oozing filth and corrupt power—and at the legion, once demons, now casting holy spells.

In his mind, a single word surfaced unconsciously, growing clearer.

"Inverted."

Buzzzz, beep—!

Timer ended. The black hole soul-cleansing device shut down. Before all eyes, Su Lin pulled two glowing masks from the black hole.

"Your Harley."

"Your Hamon."

"There's a bit of Aha left in the formula—make do?"

He handed them to Yi Donglai and Miss Kelaien, but strangely, no one reached out to take them.

"Just a joke. All of you lack a sense of humor."

He crushed the holy artifact in his hand; space warped, and Zhao Lei, Hamon, and Aha reappeared on the ground—disinfected, rebooted, restored to factory settings.

Zhao Lei and Hamon were bound with ropes, their expressions calm, mouths frozen in stiff smiles.

If the memories weren't fully erased,

you might as well retire for good this lifetime.

"So fun! So damn fun!"

Zhao Lei still kept up his defiance, telling Yi Donglai, who was pulling the rope to drag him away: "Wait! Grand Confused Siming, can I take both my Xinpan back with me?!"

"What Xinpan? What Grand Confused Siming?!" Yi Donglai, director and chief physician of the Tiancheng Psychiatric Hospital, sneered: "You're having another episode. Go take your medicine."

Hamon grinned: "Didn't we agree? You become my devotees, and I'll become your Xinpan and Lingshi?"

"Even though synchronizing with you guys meant playing a game of constant scheming and power struggles—fighting for control of the body dozens of times per second—it was entertaining."

Aha crossed his fingers over his chest in a prayer pose: "But I'm sorry—I've devoted my body and soul to the God of Light."

In other words, the degree of overlap in this transcendent system—where all three remained simultaneously devotees, Lingshi, and Xinpan to each other—was absurdly high.

"Don't disgust me." Su Lin forced a vial of demonic potion down Hamon's throat.

Soon, a woman with shoulder-length jet-black hair appeared.

Her skin was as translucent as polished glaze, a single curl of hair resting just so on the single eyepiece of her glasses, yet her bright, clear eyes gazed through the lens and hair at the others.

"Is this punishment?"

A voice like wind chimes rang from A Meng's lips—she carried herself with a bold, unconcerned air.

"You're my big niece—how could I punish you?" Su Lin said to Miss Kelaien:

"Take your A Meng away. When you've decided where to hold the century wedding, let me know."

"Don't disgust me." After confirming Hamon had no trace of high-tier transcendental essence, Miss Kelaien sealed him and tossed him onto the Source Fortress.

Having finished, he removed his hat, bowed formally, and dissolved into particles, fading into the air.

Su Lin didn't rush to assign Azathoth the script for "The Sun in the Secret." After all, the other escaped Dragon Princess wasn't even here—such a naive fool.

"Alright, it's time for you to go back," Su Lin said.

"Isn't my home right here?" Aha asked, puzzled. "The new world has the Destroyer Star God, the Hunter Star God—and I'm the Joy Star God!"

"My lord Bishop, don't you remember meeting me before you were sealed? We were chased daily by the Hunter together!"

"I, Aha, am also one of the Multiversal Devourers!"

Goushi.

This guy's connection to the Mysterious must be excellent—half the rumors in Tiancheng are true, and at least two-thirds of the credit goes to him.

Tiancheng is relocating and must temporarily clear out contraband and dangerous organizations.

Things like the Dao of Forgetting, the Masked Fool, the Hamon Clan—no one knows who brought these in, but cleaning them up is a nightmare.

If Tiancheng were to stay permanently in Su Lin's world, fine.

Any spirit trying to escape the Spirit Seat, any hidden schemer—Su Lin could achieve omniscience and omnipotence, crafting "Inception" or "Infinite Tsukuyomi" to make them forget even their own names.

But given Tiancheng's portals link so many worlds, he couldn't possibly remain a guard, staring at surveillance feeds every day.

Su Lin said to Xing: "What if he goes back to your world and spreads propaganda about the Multiversal Devourers?"

Xing, who had been daydreaming beside him, snapped back to attention.

She said instinctively: "Then I'll just become the Destroyer Star God."

"Watch closely—I'll only teach this once." Su Lin gripped Gu Yue Fangxing's head in one hand: "Instantly refine the Star Core Parasite."

"Wait, take me back to the train—ouch, ouch, ouch!" Xing pried his hand off, then said to Aha: "Here, a Multiversal Communication Token as hush money."

"I already have one." Aha raised his Multiversal Communication Token and showed the group chat he was currently in.

Simulated Universe New Year's Eve Gala

Yanfeng Qili Qili, Hero King, Aha, Merlin, Lin Xueya, the Sunset-Stained Ancient Carving, the God of Time and Space, Amon, Red Middle, Zhao Lei.

Aha: "The Bishop ordered me back, so we'll have to meet offline another time, my dear Envoys."

Hero King: "How dare a subject break an appointment?! Bishop?! What the hell is he?!"

Yanfeng Qili Qili: "Hmph… A Bishop? I, too, am a clergyman. Praise you, the Primordial God!"

"Because of you, I am able to enjoy this moment of possible redemption, this instant when my actions are acknowledged! I shall spread the Lord's will and carry out the evil of destruction you have permitted!!!"

Star: "."

Weigong Shilang: "."

Meng Qi: "."

I can't even imagine how strong his current fate has become, how far it has expanded.

Realizing he might have accidentally opened Pandora's Box, Su Lin decided to set this issue aside for now and handle other matters.

Su Lin said to Meng Qi: "Block Gilgamesh's account for thirty days."

"If you tell anyone, I'll block your account," Star mimicked perfectly.

"Aha is so embarrassed."

Aha transformed into the form of 'Qiong' and stood quietly to one side, preparing to return with the train crew under his original identity.

"Then let's leave it at that for now," Su Lin shook his head and prepared to leave.

Star grabbed Su Lin's sleeve and pointed at 'Aha's' face: "Qiong, change back for a second."

"Why?" Su Lin asked.

Star pulled out a black top hat and placed it on his head: "I pre-ordered a Watchmaker's hat—now I won't need to take any more missions."

You've turned Tian Gang upside down.

"I want to dance that finale move with all the flashy effects you just did!"

Star's eyes sparkled with excitement; he pointed his thumb upward: "So, when the train reaches Pinocony, will you dance with us?"

Su Lin scratched his head, thought for a moment, then exchanged a dance from his system and sent it to him.

"Special effect dance."

"Michael's Dance?"

"Learn it well."

Su Lin turned back and saw Meng Qi and the others staring at him with expressions of scum.

Outside the eastern suburbs of Blacklantern, inside a cemetery.

Miss Kelaien slowly walked past the gravestones and finally stopped before the tombstone reading 'Dunne Smith'.

"I told another Dunne Smith to be braver, but the girl didn't seem interested in him—there's nothing I can do."

Miss Kelaien sighed lightly, then smiled: "Love is voluntary, light, joyful—I'd rather fight a rematch than be arranged by God."

"If possible, I'd like your advice, even though you're a bachelor yourself."

Miss Kelaien imagined the scene: a group of single colleagues learning he was going on a blind date with a beautiful girl, each sharing their "experience"—it would be quite amusing.

Then he laughed, put on his hat, picked up his cane, and stepped slowly into the sudden thick fog enveloping the cemetery, vanishing within.

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