Chapter 626: Pathological Crisis (10)

Countless strange black patterns spread up from the base of the walls; the shapes formed by their shadows evoked all manner of terrifying monsters.

Angela gripped her gun tightly, but it gave her no sense of security—she knew that if such things truly existed, modern human weaponry might be useless against them.

She didn't realize that her arms, which had not trembled since leaving the police academy, were now trembling slightly; her sweaty palms made it impossible to hold the pistol as firmly as before, yet she still forced her arms to steady, aiming her gaze at every passing shadow.

Then she turned and saw Constantine pull a wine goblet from his coat, mutter a few incantations, and fill it with clear water; he then took out the Bible he had just retrieved and began whispering a prayer over the goblet.

After finishing the prayer, he pulled out a tattered cloth, dipped it into the water of the goblet, then held the cup and said: "Give me your magazine."

Angela didn't touch her gun; instead, she pulled a spare magazine from her waist and handed it to Constantine, who raised an eyebrow and said: "I like working with people who are well prepared."

Angela snorted, reached again for her waist, and with a sharp "click," three fully loaded pistol magazines appeared in her hand; she said: "I've spent just as much time dealing with vile criminals as you have with demons—sometimes, they're even more terrifying."

As she spoke, she watched Constantine drop her magazine into the goblet, stir it, and as white mist rose from the cup, he pulled it out—dry as if never wet—and handed it back to her, saying:

"These are enchanted bullets, infused with holy damage. Later, I'll set up an exorcism array; during that time, you must use your gun to drive away any demon that approaches."

"The array is extremely fragile before completion—none of the candle flames, the paper flames on the floor, or the fire in my hand can be extinguished. If you see a shadow drawing near, destroy it with these bullets."

Angela's face remained expressionless as she swiftly swapped the magazine; with a sharp "bang," a shadow slithering along the floor was struck by a bullet—she heard a shriek, black smoke erupted from the impact site, and the claw-like shape shattered instantly.

Suddenly, the female officer calmed—her initial panic had stemmed only from fear of the unknown; now she realized firearms could harm these creatures, so what was there to fear?

Firing enchanted bullets at demons was no different from firing regular bullets at humans; Angela quickly made the demons understand why she was called one of the East Coast's finest detectives.

Raise, aim, fire, raise again—her movements flowed seamlessly; even as multiple shadows attacked at once, her bullets never missed, and none of the shadows could draw near Constantine in the room.

"You need to conserve ammo," Constantine said as he drew the magic array on the floor. "These aren't their true forms—just illusions created by their power leaking from Hell. Merely the prelude to their assault…"

As Angela fired, Constantine explained rapidly: "Demons seeking to invade the mortal realm usually follow several steps: first, they seep their power into the spirit realm, then from there into the mortal world. Once their power has fully penetrated, their physical forms will arrive here."

"What happens then?" Angela asked, still firing.

"At that point, bullets with only basic enchantment won't pierce their bodies—you'll need heavy firepower to shatter them, or extremely powerful magical artifacts…"

"Can't we stop them at this stage?" Angela asked.

"No—we wait until the exact moment they draw their invading power to form their bodies. That's when they're most vulnerable. If we set the trap right, we can catch them all at once."

"Watch out—the invasion is starting!" Constantine stood up; the magic array on the floor was nearly complete, but in Angela's vision, the entire world plunged into darkness—all lights extinguished.

The Moment of Deepest Darkness had arrived.

Angela raised her gun, took a deep breath, and as countless shadows lunged at her, she rolled sideways, fired two shots—"bang," "bang"—then stepped back, aimed at the shadow beneath her feet, and fired again—"bang."

Counterattacking was difficult: not only was aiming nearly impossible in this darkness, but she had to avoid disturbing the candles within the array—even a slight movement could make the flames flicker.

Soon, Angela emptied her first magazine; she pulled out a second and glanced at the goblet—the water inside was nearly gone, barely enough to enchant one more magazine.

Without hesitation, Angela handed the magazine to Constantine; after enchanting it, he returned it to her. She took a deep breath and said: "Maybe I shouldn't have dragged more people into this. If this is our sisters' fate, then let me see just how terrible Hell really is."

"Bang!" Another shadow was repelled by an enchanted bullet; after the final round fired, Angela dropped her gun and stared into the endless darkness—through the haze and hallucinations, she saw her sister, Yin Isabelle, waving to her.

At that moment, a bright flame flared with a "whoosh," illuminating the entire room—Constantine ignited the cloth, and flames surged upward; all the shadows shrieked and fled frantically toward areas without fire.

Constantine tossed the burning cloth into the air, where it formed a massive fireball hovering above; he extended his hand to control it, keeping it suspended so the shadows dared not approach, then said: "If I keep this burning, no demon will dare manifest its true form—but when it dies, they'll return, and then we'll all be in danger."

"So I'll extinguish it now. In the instant the room plunges back into darkness, the demons will descend—get ready… he's coming!"

"Jian Lai"

No sooner had Constantine finished speaking than all flames vanished; Angela saw a grotesque, evil shadow lunging straight at her.

Instinctively, Angela raised her arm to block—suddenly, red light flared beneath her feet, and a scream rang out; she turned to see the evil figure trapped within the magic array, followed by another cry:

"Constantine! You!"

Instantly, the room flooded with light—the lights, which had vanished completely, blazed back on, as if the darkness had been nothing but an illusion.

Constantine dropped the charred cloth on the floor and said: "... Surprise!"

"... Is it over?" Angela asked, trembling; she had no strength left, staggering to Yin Isabelle's bed and sitting down. Constantine sat beside her, turning to gaze out the window at the night sky, and said: "Perhaps it's over—but this life never ends."

Angela turned to Constantine and asked: "Do you live like this every day?"

Constantine pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, lit one, inhaled, and said: "Something like that—or worse. But at least I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Angela turned back, rested her elbows on her knees, and wiped her face with both hands. "Why is this happening? Why do we have no choice? Why must we suffer such a terrible curse?"

"The world is like this—everyone has their own misfortune. So I turn mine into an advantage, a way to survive here. Look at it clearly: with this power, at least ordinary people can't threaten you."

"Really?" Angela turned to Constantine again; her once-resolute gaze had softened, now fragile.

The ordeal had drained the strong female officer of all physical strength and inflicted severe psychological torment—her body and mind had sunk to their lowest point.

"If you were normal, I'd never advise you to touch anything mystical. No matter how brilliant or intelligent you are, I'd only tell you to stay far away."

"But those born under a curse—if they don't learn these things, their only fate is to be passively crushed. If you want to fight back, you must meet violence with violence."

Constantine inhaled, exhaled a slow stream of smoke, and said: "... Understanding this cost me dearly."

"What cost?" Angela asked, curious.

Constantine looked up, scanning the hospital room; the deep-set eyes beneath his browbones were finally illuminated by the light. He said: "Metropolis is truly one of the world's greatest cities—its psychiatric ward conditions are far better than the one I stayed in."

"You've been in a psychiatric ward too?"

"Of course. That's a long story—you probably wouldn't want to hear it, but it's one of the proofs of how I killed those innocent people." Constantine regained some strength, rose from the bedside, and loosened his tie.

"You might think I'm insane, but I miss those days—when guilt and self-loathing drove me nearly mad, I was strapped into a restraint chair, injected with useless sedatives, beaten, thrown to the floor..."

"That must have been terrible..." Angela said, her voice low.

"But I live for this pain—if it didn't remind me, I'd still be alive, perhaps already convinced I was nothing but a walking corpse." Constantine turned back; Angela looked up into his eyes—their hypnotic power had always drawn her in, making her unwittingly lose herself in them.

People always crave stories steeped in darkness. Constantine carried too many such tales—madness, darkness, sorrow—radiating a sickly allure.

Constantine leaned down, exhaled smoke; Angela seized his wrist, took the cigarette he'd just smoked, brought it to her lips, inhaled, then blew the smoke into Constantine's face.

Constantine gently pulled her up, lowered his head, and kissed her.

But at the moment their lips met, Angela snapped out of her trance; she pushed him away and said: "No, wait—I... I have to stop their plot..."

Angela turned away awkwardly, preparing to leave the room—unaware that behind her, Constantine's lips curled into a smug smile.