Chapter 791

This night, Cat Getan's rain was extra cold, carrying a sorrow beyond the chill, making people shiver from head to toe.

A figure swayed out of the pitch-black alley, leaning against the wall and starting to vomit, then started coughing violently, muttering a pile of messy words. When he finally moved to a step, what was illuminated by the street lamp was Constantine's haggard face.

He hiccuped, leaned weakly against the cold wall, and his body emitted a terrible stench. Judging from the two shoe prints on his trench coat, he should have been kicked out because he had no money to continue smoking marijuana.

But his drug addiction kept acting up. The hand lighting the ordinary cigarette was shaking so much that he couldn't even strike a match. After trying several times, besides wasting a few matches, there was no progress. Constantine sighed and stuffed the cigarette back into his pocket.

Suddenly, he saw a point of fire appear on the other side of the wall, reaching out toward him.

Constantine's eyes lit up immediately. He immediately took out a cigarette and leaned his head over, lighting the cigarette with the fire. He took a puff comfortably, exhaled a puff of smoke, and said: "Thanks, buddy."

But the next second, he was so startled that he almost jumped up from the ground, because the face that appeared on the other side of the wall was Bruce wearing Joker makeup.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Constantine exclaimed: "If I hadn't turned on my spirit vision, I would have thought it was that lunatic!... Wait a minute, you're not him, right?"

Turning on his spirit vision again, Constantine checked Bruce's soul from top to bottom, and then breathed a sigh of relief and said: "Oh, fortunately, you are not him... Wait, why are you wearing this makeup? Is it Halloween now?"

Constantine slightly operated his brain, which was still immersed in drug addiction. Recalling, April Fool's Day must have passed, and he hadn't offended Batman recently either.

Constantine squatted opposite Bruce, looking at his face carefully.

He discovered that the makeup didn't seem to be painted on either. Bruce's face seemed to have been soaked by some chemical agent. The skin became wrinkled, turning into an unhealthy pale color. And the lips were extra red because the chemical agent made the skin on his lips peel off. Those red colors were fresh blood.

Constantine narrowed his eyes. Just as he wanted to ask, he saw Bruce take out a cigar from his pocket and light it. Then, Constantine smelled a familiar scent.

He opened his eyes wide, revealing the most shocked expression since he was born, and then suddenly turned into anger.

He grabbed the cigar in Bruce's hand, threw it to the ground, stepped on it to extinguish it, and raised his voice: "Batman!

! Are you crazy?!

! Do you know what you are smoking?!"

Bruce leaned against the wall and said: "Of course I know, isn't it the kind of cigarette you usually smoke? Even the smell is exactly the same. Of course, I know, here this thing is called medicine..."

"Can't you see? I'm sick." Bruce coughed violently twice and said: "I need this medicine, I plan to go and get some more in a while..."

"You're damn crazy!" Constantine was like being stimulated by something. He said to Bruce: "Medicine??? You think with your world's most genius intelligence, is this thing medicine???"

"You..." Constantine squatted down, covered his forehead with his hand, and said: "Listen to me, listen to me, Bruce... Listen to me, kid, I smoke this thing because I am a patient with late-stage lung cancer. Late-stage lung cancer, do you understand? That is to say, my lungs are about to rot..."

"If you have spirit vision... forget it, you don't have this thing, but you must know, I'm about to die. This thing is not used to treat illness, but to relieve pain."

"I'm in a lot of pain right now." Bruce's tone was very calm, without a ripple. He said: "I have a lot of things to do in a while. I can't lose my ability to act, so I plan to recover my spirit."

"But this thing can't help you recover your spirit!" Constantine stood up again. He spread his hands and said: "Smoking marijuana will only lower your memory, make you have all kinds of hallucinations, make you want to vomit, have cold sweats, and have no strength at all..."

"If you smoke this thing for a long time, it may endanger your male function. If you smoke too much, it may lead to shock or death!"

Just at this time, Constantine turned around on the spot, held his forehead with his hand, and said: "My God! How could I say these things to someone?!"

His fingertips were trembling, stopping on the spot, and then he looked down at Bruce and said: "Do you have to make me tell you? Do you have to make me tell you like a softie that this is actually very uncomfortable, okay?"

"I really want to vomit right now, my lungs hurt, not two minutes. I have to cough and vomit, and half of the pain here is caused by this thing. Are you satisfied?!"

Constantine gritted his teeth and said: "Batman, you really have it. Your recent psychology, you really learned it effectively!"

"How did you know that as long as you treat yourself as a hostage, I have to come to stop you like a justice messenger?!"

Bruce stood up, wanting to pick up that cigarette. Constantine pushed him away hard, but to his surprise, as soon as he pushed, Bruce fell.

Constantine was even more shocked. He said: "Satan! How can you be so weak?!... No, you shouldn't have already, wait, wait..."

Constantine hurriedly picked up the cigarette by his feet, then threw it to the other side of the road. Feeling uneasy, he lit a cluster of flames in his hand, rubbed it into a fireball, and smashed it toward the cigarette, until it was completely burned to ash, before finally feeling relieved.

Constantine knew that he couldn't use violent means to stimulate Bruce, so he helped Bruce up from the ground, helped him to the steps nearby, then knelt halfway opposite him, pressed his shoulders, and said:

"Bruce, I know, you think I'm an unreliable person. Okay, I admit, I'm a rotten person. I got addicted to drugs when I was 14. At that time, I just wanted to play around, you know, my classmates all played this."

"I'm different from you. I wasn't born in a rich area, and my parents didn't care about me. I taught a bunch of fox friends since I was a child. They took me to play this, and I also felt it was very interesting..."

"Yes... yes... at the beginning, it was very good. God, I felt I could lie on the sofa for a whole day, but at that time. I was too young. Just like you, I didn't realize how dangerous this was..."

Constantine let go of his hand, then put his hand on his knee and said: "No matter who took you to play this, you stop now, it's still in time."

Constantine took a puff of the cigarette in his hand, then snapped his fingers and exhaled a puff of smoke.

Suddenly, a phantom of a demon appeared on the street in front of him. Constantine walked over and pointed at him and said: "Look, I can summon the entity of a demon. This is the confidence I dare to do these rotten things."

"If one day I don't want to be so rotten, I can sell my soul to exchange for a stable life for the next few decades, but Bruce... Bruce... look at me..."

Constantine held the sides of Bruce's head with both hands and pried his head over and said: "Can you summon a demon? Do you have magical talent? Can you make time go back and everything start over?"

"If you can't, don't do this kind of thing!"

"But everyone here is doing this kind of thing." Bruce looked at the lights on the street ahead and said: "They treat this thing as medicine to cure their illness that won't get better. The person selling the medicine really regards himself as a doctor, and the person taking the medicine really regards this as medicine."

Constantine was silent, because he suddenly understood what Bruce was saying. He said: "Are you sympathizing with these people? Do you think they can't afford medicine, so they can only do this? Are you feeling very sad about this?"

Then, Constantine saw Bruce reveal a smile. The cigarette in Constantine's hand fell directly to the ground. When the ash touched the ground, it was like brilliant fireworks.

"No, I am feeling happy about this..." Bruce's lips started to tremble a bit. He accelerated his speech and said excitedly: "I am happy that I am in the midst of it, trying hard to become one of them..."

Although Constantine couldn't understand this metaphor, he could see Bruce's current state, because he could see the soul directly. He squatted in front of Bruce again, held his knees with both hands, lowered his head, and said:

"Batman, do you know why I want to stop you from doing this?"

Bruce looked at him, there was no question in his eyes, but his gaze was very focused. He became better at listening to others than before.

Constantine moved his hand and said: "I know, saying this might be a bit cheesy, but, I have lived for so many years, rotten for so many years, you are the first person who sincerely wants to save me."

"Do you know? I was very confused about this at first." Constantine sighed and said: "I really don't understand, why do you insist on saving me?"

"Of course, there is no shortage of people in this world who saved my life and want to hold a grudge and ask for repayment. They all know what kind of ability I have. Some people are my friends just for immortality, and some people do me a favor just to let me help him kill people."

"It's not difficult to see through these emotions, because I can see people's souls directly. I can judge whether you are lying, I can see what emotion you are in when you say this... Yes, I have mind reading."

"But, when I read your soul for the first time, I discovered that you just want to save me, and the reason you save me is that you want to save everyone in this world."

"I was stunned, because you are serious." Constantine looked at Bruce's blue eyes, just like seeing the bottom of the sea. Through the soul, he was talking to the little boy lying under the black tide. He said:

"You shouldn't have been so kind. What you obtained from this society is far less than what you gave it, so I feel very surprised."

Bruce shook his head and said: "Isn't what this society gave me enough? Endless wealth, comfortable living conditions, the confidence of not having to worry about livelihood..."

Constantine was stunned for a moment and said: "But this is not given to you by this society, this is given to you by God. You can't decide where you are born, and no one in this society can decide either."

"... I took these things and had a very long dream. In the dream, I became a bat, hanging high on the attic, worrying about my mission of revenge..."

Constantine's eyes became a bit gentler. He looked at Bruce and said: "Are you feeling guilty because you didn't save this world as early as possible?"

"No, I just feel it's funny." Bruce revealed a very stiff smile, as if the muscles on his face were very unaccustomed to him making this expression. He said:

"When I was staying in the house, the owner here was dying by the thousands, and I was just sleeping in the attic, moved by the logic in my dream..."

"During this period, many people made a lot of noise to remind me. They said I should wake up. I said they were crazy."

"The owner of the house finally couldn't stand it. They kicked me out. I could never understand them, feeling that they were so stupid, shortsighted, and easily believed in rumors."

"I said to myself, I don't need that house. I want to stand on the roof and then go save them. After I discovered that this wouldn't work, I found a small door and slipped in secretly."

"Then, I finally discovered the truth. It's not that they didn't live seriously enough, it's not that they were used to treating all this as a game, laughing frivolously and absurdly."

"But, in the life of ordinary people, all accidents come so absurdly, very humorously, without any matter completely under their control. Then, facing suffering, what else can they do?"

Bruce looked at Constantine's eyes. The street lamp's light shone into his eyes, like Cat Getan's sunset. He said:

"They can't cry, because crying consumes too much energy..."

"Then, besides laughing, what else can they do?"