Chapter 139: A Hammer Falls from the Sky

New Mexico, this is a state generally slightly similar to Texas. The vast land and sparse population make most places here not prosperous, but rather have a feeling of being behind the times.

"Hmm, the weather is really good today." Constantine walked leisurely on the street, the air in his nose and mouth full of the fragrance of soil. Of course, the premise was to automatically exclude some smell of feces.

Initially, Mephisto wanted to throw Constantine to New York. After all, that looked like the center of the stage. Constantine was naturally unwilling. Fishing is the true dream of a working person.

Consequently, after some bargaining, Constantine was sent to New Mexico.

The moment he landed in the morning, Constantine knew that he had probably been pitted because of information asymmetry.

He estimated that Mephisto was laughing secretly in hell now. He had spent his whole life hunting eagles, only to be pecked by a sparrow. Or perhaps he was just too happy to come to the human world and relaxed his vigilance.

However, no matter what, he had survived, which was much better than dying in hell.

In addition, he didn't even need to explore. Just standing in the town, Constantine could feel that there was something emitting powerful magic power in the suburbs. That energy level, it might be another artifact.

"Eh... it's really a bit troublesome." Constantine patted his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, which was already empty.

Without hesitation, Constantine turned and walked to the small shop. Buy a pack of cigarettes first. Without tobacco, Constantine's small body couldn't live steadily in this world.

Tobacco in hand, Constantine leaned against the wall and lit one. The pungent smoke drifted in front of his eyes. This thing, although not as strong as a cigar, was still passable.

"Hey, smoke ghost boss, morning." People passing by greeted Constantine.

"Morning~" Constantine raised his hand to signal.

Although Mephisto pitted him in the last step, he was quite honest about his identity.

The identity Constantine inherited was a hotel owner who died from excessive smoking. This owner owned the largest hotel in this town and had a considerable amount of savings, probably several million dollars.

Of course, this money was not very clean, coming from a black-eat-black incident; otherwise, the owner wouldn't have lived steadily in this small town.

"Eh, Mr. Constantine, do you know? Something amazing fell outside." A young boy approached Constantine and said mysteriously.

"Oh? What?" Constantine blew a smoke ring. He naturally knew, but it would be best if he could ignore this thing.

The boy's fingers moved, looking at the pack of cigarettes, and raised his eyebrows at Constantine.

"There's no additive in this." Constantine replied.

"I naturally know, hurry up, I don't want to be seen by my mother." The boy curled his lips and looked around.

Constantine inexplicably wanted to laugh. The human world is more interesting than hell, so he slapped the pack of cigarettes he had just opened into the boy's hand.

"Wow, you're really generous. I guarantee this news is worth more than the price!" The boy touched a lighter and prepared to light one.

The shop owner smiled and took another pack of cigarettes from the counter, handing it to Constantine. The name of the original smoke ghost had spread throughout the town, known as being able to not eat, but not being able to not smoke.

"You were fooled by him. That's not a message, it's just a hammer. It might have fallen from some plane," the boss said.

"No! It's not just that. That hammer is very heavy, Uncle Smith couldn't pull it," the boy retorted with dissatisfaction.

Hammer... Constantine narrowed his eyes slightly and felt the taste of Runic Script. Could it be the one I'm thinking of?

"Even if you can't pull it, it's still just a hammer. Besides, that's ownerless land, and you can't ask the airline for compensation. Why pay attention to it?" the boss continued.

The boy was speechless for a while and could only look at the boss angrily.

"Hey, your mother is here." Constantine touched the boy and said.

The boy looked back, scared, threw the cigarette in his mouth, and ran away.

Constantine looked at this chase scene, shook his head, took two more packs from the boss, and turned away.

Runic Script, hammer, Asgard, Odin...

There are more and more characters on this stage, but I don't know if you are the protagonist or a supporting role.

Constantine pressed his hat brim and walked toward his hotel. If it weren't for Mephisto watching behind him, Constantine would definitely have driven his pickup truck and gone out for a trip to avoid the big event that was about to happen.

But if he couldn't avoid it now, he had to make some preparations.

Arriving at the hotel, Constantine was surprised to find that there were quite a few people at his door. A bunch of guys in black clothes were moving things into a truck there.

"Hey, who are you?" Constantine knocked on the door and asked the guys inside.

"I am S. H. I. E. L. D. agent Coulson, Mr. Constantine." Coulson showed his credentials.

"I don't know any S. H. I. E. L. D. agent. I only know that this is my hotel, my territory." Constantine emphasized again.

"I didn't intend to dismantle your hotel. We just intend to take away some things that shouldn't be here," Coulson spread his hands and said.

Eh, there are guys who can't understand human speech everywhere.

Constantine sighed, spat out the smoke, took out a short-barreled shotgun from under his trench coat, and topped it directly on Coulson's head.

"I said, stop! Understand?!" Constantine repeated.

Coulson raised his hands, and the surrounding agents took out their guns and aimed at Constantine.

"Believe me, I have no malice," Coulson explained.

"Yeah, no malice, so what do you want to do by taking my suitcase?" Constantine tilted his head, looking at the guy holding the suitcase behind him. Inside was a bit of "business trip subsidy" given by Mephisto.

Constantine just went out to breathe some fresh air and bought a pack of cigarettes, and the subsidy was almost taken away. This is okay!

"Sorry, this is an order..." Coulson still wanted to continue saying something.

Constantine became more and more impatient, his finger on the trigger. "Either put my things down, or try whether I dare to shoot?"

Coulson and Constantine looked at each other for two seconds, then waved to the agents behind him. "Put down Mr. Constantine's personal items, just take Ms. Jane Foster's things."

This time Coulson didn't intend to take Constantine's things. After all, as a hotel owner, he had nothing to do with this matter, and taking everything was just too lazy to distinguish.

"You're sensible." Constantine put the gun away. He generally didn't cause trouble, but if others provoked him, that was hard to say.

Of course, Constantine didn't intend to make things big. After all, this identity was still a bit unclean.

"Mr. Constantine, your gun seems a bit different." Coulson asked.

"Just changed the appearance a bit. It has been reported to the Gun Association. Do you intend to find trouble with me for this?" Constantine asked back.

"Of course not. Actually, we can be friends. It's good for you." Coulson continued.

"It seems you know a lot of things."

"Of course."

Constantine lit a cigarette. "For example, the hammer in the suburbs?"

"What do you know?" Coulson looked at Constantine. He felt that this hotel owner might be a bit unusual.

"Don't treat everyone as a fool." Constantine was very calm. "That's the only unexpected thing that happened here. Besides it, I don't know what else could attract agents like you."

"Alright, if you know anything else, you can call me. We can provide some special rewards." Coulson handed over a business card.

Constantine put the business card into his pocket. With Mephisto watching behind him, he couldn't avoid dealing with S. H. I. E. L. D. in the future, so having a contact method would be more convenient. ===== CHAPTER 140 =====