Constantine looked at the newcomer, his eyelid twitching.
Speak of the devil.
Sephirot leaned against the doorframe and continued, "What a shame. I even had a suit ready just so I could attend your funeral."
Behind him, Lady yawned, looking down as she scrolled through her phone.
They had made a special trip to find Constantine today specifically to dig up some intel on the Kuchisake-onna who had been killing people all over the city.
They needed to find out if this was the work of a serial killer or if a demon was truly behind the hauntings.
Sephirot and Lady had both just returned from out of town and were completely in the dark regarding the current situation in Los Santos.
Rather than running around asking questions and wasting energy investigating from scratch, it was easier to follow a colleague and pick up ready-made intelligence.
Constantine let out a cold laugh. "Last time we met, you were just a human brat who only knew how to run his mouth. Why do you reek of demon today?"
"What? Did you finally go to Hell for a postgraduate course?"
"I'm not like someone who wants to go to Hell but finds out they aren't even being accepted."
Sephirot shrugged, ruthlessly poking at Constantine's sore spot.
He walked to the bedside, looking down at the girl wearing an expression of agony, and continued, "It looks like your professional skills have regressed quite a bit. You need a mirror just to kill such a low-level demon?"
In many folk traditions, mirrors serve not only as objects to reflect light, but also as entrances to trap demons or open portals to other worlds.
Hearing this, Constantine reached his limit.
He took a half-step back. "Fine. Since you think you're so capable, you deal with this thing."
"Then watch closely and learn. This free tutorial is a one-time offer."
Sephirot let out a light chuckle as the magic within his Sparda bloodline surged.
A pure and terrifying pressure enveloped the girl.
The girl's body trembled violently, her expression filled with shivers and dread.
To the demon parasitizing the girl's body, the Sparda bloodline and aura were like an abyss that could not be looked upon directly.
This pressure alone was enough to make it completely collapse.
—--
A few seconds later.
A monster with half its head shorn off and a body as withered as a stick finally couldn't endure the torment. It howled as it crawled out of the girl's body.
The Scavenger Demon is the most common low-level grunt in Hell, sitting at the bottom of the hierarchy with low intelligence. They generally prefer to possess people with weak willpower.
The moment the monster manifested its physical form, it scrambled toward the door, crawling and rolling in a desperate attempt to escape.
Seeing this, Constantine immediately raised a hand, his mouth beginning to murmur an exorcism incantation.
"By the time you finish reciting that script, it'll be two blocks away."
Sephirot deadpanned.
At some point, a short-barreled shotgun had appeared in his hand. Purple demonic energy instantly surged into the weapon's frame, enchanting the shells. "Bang!"
The massive gunshot detonated within the room.
The demon collapsed instantly as the magic-infused shells tore through more than half of its body.
The creature's entire frame emitted a pungent white smoke; it twitched twice before falling silent.
Sephirot looked at the Holy Flame of Exorcism in his hand, feeling slightly surprised.
The last time he had used it against that Ancient Ogre, the creature's perverse regenerative abilities had made him feel that this legendary tool of exorcism was somewhat overrated.
He hadn't expected it to be quite so effective against an ordinary demon.
Perhaps if paired with some custom-made pure silver bullet tips or high-concentration Holy Water, the results would be even better?
Standing to the side, Constantine was utterly stunned.
He remained frozen in his chanting posture, his expression stiff.
In every previous exorcism, hadn't he been forced to prepare Holy Water, draw a Magic circle with Salt, and ultimately fight a desperate battle while risking his life against demonic backlash?
And now, this person who didn't seem to know a lick of Occultism had simply blown a demon to pieces with a single shot?
This simple and crude method of resolution was a massive eye-opener for him.
Maybe he should try to craft a weapon like that himself?
At that moment, the girl's family members arrived, panting, having hauled a large mirror over from a neighbor's house.
They didn't see any demon; they only saw that in this short span of time, a massive hole had appeared in their living room wall.
But seeing Sephirot's fierce demeanor, they didn't dare ask any questions.
"Shall we? Let's go downstairs and find a place to talk."
Sephirot turned to look at Constantine.
Constantine didn't respond.
He glanced back at the girl on the bed, whose consciousness was gradually returning, and walked silently to the parents, whispering:
"Go and prepare yourselves. She won't make it through the night."
"What?"
The mother, who had just been secretly rejoicing that her daughter had finally returned to normal, felt her eyes roll back and fainted on the spot upon hearing this.
Constantine sighed, offering no further explanation.
Even a brief possession by a demon would drain a normal person's vitality, leaving them bedridden for a long time.
Never mind that this Scavenger Demon had intended to use this body to break the barrier between Hell and the human world, attempting to force its true form into existence.
The girl's life force had long since been drained dry; her currently flushed complexion was nothing more than the terminal lucidity before death.
Having delivered the final word, Constantine finally followed them into the elevator.
—--
Downstairs.
Constantine stuck a cigarette in his mouth and relighted it.
He asked indistinctly, "Speak up then. Why did you go out of your way to find me? What exactly do you want?"
"Can't we look for you if there isn't anything specific?"
Lady, who had remained quiet until then, spoke up.
"..."
Constantine took one look at the woman and wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.
Having spent years drifting through the various Black markets of Los Santos, he had naturally heard of her fearsome reputation.
His entire skill set was poured into Black magic and Exorcism rituals, and his body had been eroded by lung cancer for years, making him even weaker than an average person.
If he truly pissed her off, a single straight punch would likely send him to see God.
Sephirot stopped beating around the bush and got straight to the point: "That crazy woman wandering around downtown lately, the one who specializes in killing people."
"Let's share some intel."
Hearing this, Constantine had a moment of realization: "So you're the other group that took the commission?"
Once he understood their motive, he put on a look of disdain and snorted, "Why should I give you the information I worked so hard to find? She's my prey."
"It's fine. Honestly, we didn't expect you to be that generous anyway."
Sephirot looked at him with a beaming smile, but that smile made a sense of foreboding rise in the pit of Constantine's stomach.
"It doesn't matter if you won't talk. We don't have much to do lately anyway, so we can act as your bodyguards for free, protecting your personal safety twenty-four-seven, Mr. Constantine."
Sephirot spread his hands and said.
"..."
The hand Constantine held his cigarette with jerked, nearly burning himself.
He had lost count of how many times he had felt utterly helpless today.
He looked at Sephirot's harmless expression, then at Lady, who stood beside him ready to resort to brute force at a moment's notice.
Constantine was out of options.
The deception and magic he prided himself on were useless in the face of such unreasonable threats of violence.
He couldn't win a fight, and he couldn't run away.
He scratched his hair in frustration and cursed crossly:
"FUCK! Just follow me."
(Translated by yourtl.app)