Chapter 4006

Strange, disguised as Constantine, followed the real Constantine back to their base quarters. Most of the Constantines did not arrive with the main force but came by their own various paths, so this was also their first time at the base. Strange did not need to worry about giving himself away by not knowing the situation here.

The base on Apokolips was, in truth, no better than the Asgardian base; neither was very suitable for human habitation. A room contained a hard board bed, a table, and a chair; a clock hung on the wall, and that was all.

At least the Asgardian base had a mattress; the bed here was entirely metal. It seemed Darkseid could not comprehend the act of human sleep, let alone understand why humans needed to sleep on a bed of moderate firmness to rest well.

However, thinking about it, there were not many real humans in the Justice League either. Strange suspected that the Batmen might not have rested since the fighting began, and for a moment, he actually didn't know who the real Superman was.

Strange chose to stay next door to Constantine, and the two of them specifically picked the edge of the corridor on the highest floor. Only two people lived on this floor, and others probably wouldn't choose this place, making it a very quiet spot.

Strange tidied up his room a bit and asked in his mind, "Are you really going to approach Darkseid? Aren't you worried the deal will fail and he'll sell you out to Batman?"

"Then he'd better sell me for a high price," Shiler said with a smile in his tone, "I'm very valuable, after all."

"Now is not the time for jokes," Strange said, "What assurance do you have that you can move Darkseid?"

"The key isn't what price I pay, but what reward I want. If I were to make Darkseid turn against Batman, the price would be too high; but if I only want shield technology, it's not that difficult."

Strange sighed softly and said, "I always feel the Guardians of the Galaxy will become the breakthrough point; the Batmen might use them as an opportunity to take the initiative. I have to find a way to send the message back."

"That is very risky," Shiler's voice carried a warning tone, "Darkseid monitors everything inside the Apokolips domain. You can monitor all energy changes on Earth through the magical defense network, and he will only do it better than you. Any energy fluctuation cannot escape his eyes; as long as you use magic, you will definitely be discovered."

"Then I won't use magic," Strange said, "Constantine can go without using magic, why can't I?"

"Rather than doing things you aren't good at, it's better to leave them to those who are."

"What do you mean? You don't want me to count on Constantine, do you?"

"His use of magic won't arouse suspicion. As long as you can find a way to persuade him, you naturally won't have to take this risk yourself."

"How is that possible? This guy doesn't look like someone who would defect," Strange said.

"Everyone has conditions they cannot refuse; it just depends on whether you can find his weakness. Besides, he was the one who captured the person, so he has the right to dispose of them; it just depends on whether he wants to bother with this matter."

"He..."

"Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough!!!"

A series of violent coughs suddenly came from next door, giving Strange a start. He immediately said to Shiler, "What's wrong over there? Why is he coughing so severely?"

"If you smoked 30 cigarettes a day, you'd cough even worse than him."

"Hiss..." Strange couldn't help but show an expression of disgust. As a surgeon with mysophobia, he couldn't stand people smoking. 30 cigarettes a day—wouldn't that just pickle him from the inside out?

"Ugh... wheeze... wheeze..."

A very faint but low retching sound came from next door, followed immediately by wheezing.

Strange was slightly stunned. He knew many smokers would have a reflex to retch, but the wheezing that followed was clearly wrong. Even though he was just a surgeon, he could tell the chest sounds were clearly abnormal; it was almost on par with a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

"Are his lungs failing?" Strange muttered to himself. But he also knew a thing or two about his own internal medicine level, so he walked to the wall to listen more carefully.

With a "clatter," it sounded like something had been knocked over. Strange rushed out of his room and dashed to Constantine's door. The door wasn't locked; he turned the handle and rushed in.

Constantine, having taken off his coat and wearing only a white shirt, had collapsed next to the table. Strange hurried over to help him up, and Constantine went into another extremely violent coughing fit. Strange was quite flustered, not knowing what to do.

Constantine pointed a trembling finger at his trunk. Strange walked over and brought the trunk over. Constantine opened it, fumbled around inside, and then pulled out a small bottle of medicine, pouring it into his mouth. Strange took it and looked; it was some kind of cough syrup with analgesic ingredients.

He wanted to ask a question, but Constantine, lying on the bed, put a cigarette in his mouth, felt around in his pocket, didn't find a lighter, and reached his hand out toward Strange.

As a non-smoker, Strange didn't react for a moment to what he was doing, and then Constantine, lying on the bed, rolled his eyes and turned his head to the other side.

Only then did Strange realize he probably wanted a lighter, and now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Buddy, your lung cells might have less than half working, and you still want to smoke?"

"It's not that I want to," Constantine slowly turned his head back, looking at him with a slightly vacant gaze, "It's that I need to."

Strange sighed deeply, gave up the idea of persuading him, and asked, "Your condition is poor, right? Why not tell Batman?"

Constantine hummed with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, then shook his head and said, "Telling him wouldn't be of any use; it would only result in a bunch of anti-smoking educational slogans."

"You mean you want to cure your lungs while still smoking?"

"Can't I?"

As a doctor, Strange really wanted to beat him up, but precisely because he was a doctor, he ultimately held back and said, "Do you have the X-rays?"

Constantine gave him a look, so Strange had to go to his trunk to search. After searching for a long time, he found a tattered X-ray in the lining of the trunk's lid.

He took it to the window, held it up to the light, and when he saw the shadow occupying most of the lungs, his eyes widened instantly.

Although he hadn't looked at X-rays for a long time, even an ordinary person could tell how outrageous this thing was. Let's put it this way: if you poured a dish of sliced beef and ox tripe, soup and all, into his chest cavity, it wouldn't be any less functional than Constantine's lungs were now.

Strange covered his forehead, and when he turned around, he looked at Constantine with the expression one might use for a rare biological specimen. He really wanted to know how this guy could move around freely with 80% of his lungs occupied by shadows; it was simply a medical miracle.

So he first walked over to look at the cough syrup Constantine had drunk, opened the lid to smell it, and was immediately made to frown by a pungent odor. He could be certain that cough syrup would never have such a heavy, bloody smell.

Strange looked into the bottle again and saw a clump of very viscous, blood-red fragments. He suddenly had a bad premonition, but Constantine, lying on the bed half-dead, coughed twice more and said with a smile, "Looks like you're a novice, but it doesn't matter; it won't be long before you can taste the flavor of a demon too."

Strange swallowed hard. Although he had dealt with quite a few demon gods, most of the demon gods on their side were energy beings without physical bodies, but it seemed the universe Constantine came from wasn't like that.

Then he suddenly realized something, looked at Constantine, and asked, "So the thing in your trunk—is that your medicine?"

"Sort of, but after I caught him, I took an urgent order and didn't have time to process it. Cough, cough, cough, cough... A little girl's mother found me and said her daughter was possessed. I originally wanted to go take a look, but then I was called here by Batman."

"Can you cure him?" Strange asked Shiler in his mind.

"Perhaps, but if I rebuild a lung for him, his body will contain a part of the Gray Fog. According to the rules of his universe, he won't be able to go to heaven."

"You mean he could have gone to heaven originally?!"

"Maybe not, but he really wants to go to heaven. Or rather, he doesn't want to go to hell."

"If you shape a part of his body, where will he go after he dies?"

"Not clear, but it's more likely he will dissipate completely. Neither God nor Satan can stop all of this."

Strange felt a bit of a headache. Looking at that trunk of things, he knew the universe Constantine was in must be severely influenced by religious factors—something like the struggle between angels and demons.

Whether people can live well in such a place depends not only on combat power but also on the rules. If you don't fit the rules, it's useless even if you have heaven-defying abilities.

And clearly, wanting to go to heaven in such a place requires following Catholic rules—meaning no sin, no suicide, and strictly speaking, the body must be original.

Using medical means for organ transplantation would be one thing, but if an Outer God were to do it, especially if a part of an Outer God were to replace one of his important organs, it would absolutely have an immeasurable impact on his body and soul. Going to heaven would definitely be out of the question, and going to hell would probably be a struggle too.

If that were the case, this lung cancer would be hard to treat. Wakanda had relevant technology, but Constantine's situation was still a bit too complex. With the components in his body, even if the most powerful miracle drugs were poured in, he'd still get slapped three times for every step he took.

"I can help you," Strange said, "Or rather, let's make a deal: I help you, and you help me."

"Sorry, no need. I can handle that thing tonight, and I guarantee it won't cause any commotion," Constantine sat up from the bed and looked at Strange, saying, "Don't tell Batman about this, or I'll make you regret it."

"I wasn't talking about handling the demon," Strange said, frowning. He pointed to Constantine's lungs and then said, "Don't you intend to solve the problem here?"

"You have a way to solve it?" Constantine raised an eyebrow, looked Strange up and down, and then said, "If you aren't a novice, it's quite surprising that you can stay this healthy. Do you have some secret recipe?"

Strange sighed, took a few steps back, and said, "Can you set up a magic circle to block prying eyes?"

Constantine frowned, but he still took something out of the trunk that looked like broken porcelain shards and placed them one by one in the corners of the room. Whispering sounds echoed in the room, and then it fell completely silent.

Golden light swirled in Strange's eyes, and after Constantine's disguised appearance faded, Strange's original face was revealed.

"Let me reintroduce myself: Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of this universe, and also the best surgeon in the multiverse."