On the top floor of a dilapidated apartment building in the suburbs.
This was Constantine's exorcism cabin, the place where he lived his daily life.
As soon as Sephirot reached the doorway, he could smell the pungent odor of incense and sulfur.
Constantine pushed the door open, just about to warn Sephirot to watch out for the runes at the entrance.
Instead, he watched Sephirot stroll inside with complete indifference, even curiously grinding his heel into a trapping formation drawn on the floor in black dog blood.
"You..."
Constantine watched these exorcism magic circles prove utterly useless against Sephirot, a secret shock settling in.
He had spent a great deal of effort and money acquiring these circles and the materials to construct them from various Gypsy witches and exorcists.
They could temporarily hold even high-ranking demons at bay, yet they were completely ineffective against this guy who reeked of a demonic aura.
"What?"
Noticing his gaze, Sephirot patted a skull hanging on the wall. "These little tricks of yours can only fend off pure-blooded demons at best."
"Even though I have a Demonic Bloodline flowing through me, in my heart, I still consider myself human. You can't discriminate against me just because of my bloodline, can you? That's against the law."
Constantine didn't want to hear any more of his bizarre rhetoric. He walked to the table with a dark expression.
He swept the cluttered tabletop clear and carefully unrolled a scroll of parchment.
As the scroll unfurled, a thick scent of blood diffused through the room.
Sephirot leaned in and saw a detailed map of America drawn on the scroll. To his surprise, specific locations across every state and region were marked with vibrant drops of blood, appearing as fresh as if they had just been shed.
Only a tiny fraction of the blood droplets had dried and turned black.
"A friend of mine who is a master of spirit channeling used her own blood as a medium to create this psychic map at a great personal cost."
Constantine pointed to the red blood dots on the map, his tone solemn. "These droplets roughly pinpoint the locations of monsters and demons across the country – like the one that was causing trouble in Poho County recently..."
"Stop."
Sephirot cut Constantine off. "Why are you telling me all this? I just want information on that crazy woman's commission. I have no interest in saving the world or maintaining peace across America."
What kind of man was Constantine?
Sephirot knew him all too well: an old charlatan, a con artist.
If you didn't seize the initiative when dealing with him, you'd end up being led around by the nose.
And look at the people he associated with.
Angels harboring ill intent, demons who would turn on you in an instant, and eccentric dark wizards.
Only when Constantine felt things had spiraled completely out of control and he was about to break would he actively seek outside help.
And nine times out of ten, when he looked for outside help, he was planning to use them as a pawn.
Sephirot had no desire to be inexplicably dragged into some war between gods and demons. His current goals were very clear: complete missions, earn points, activate his Demonic Bloodline, and pay off his debt.
"..."
Constantine felt a wave of exhaustion.
He had the persistent illusion that all his convoluted little schemes were being seen through by this young man he had only met a few times.
He suspected the other man might even be able to guess the color of his underwear.
"Fine, back to that crazy woman. I call her the Kuchisake-onna."
Constantine sighed. "She is... extremely bizarre."
"I pulled some strings with the police to investigate her background. She was nothing more than a somewhat famous Female Model in Los Santos."
"Later, her roommate got jealous and slit her mouth open while she was sleeping. The disfigurement caused a mental breakdown, and she committed suicide by overdosing on pills."
Sephirot nodded, signaling for him to continue.
"Normally, a vengeful spirit with that much resentment could be handled with a standard Exorcism ritual. But that's where the problem lies."
"I've tried several times, even using Holy Water and a Magic circle to purify her. But every few days, she reappears and continues her killing spree."
As Constantine said this, his tone turned somewhat bitter.
For a veteran exorcist, what could be more demoralizing than a vengeful spirit or demon that simply wouldn't die?
After listening to Constantine's description, Sephirot thought for a moment, a suspicion forming in his mind.
"Besides this unkillable Kuchisake-onna, have there been any other similar incidents in Los Santos recently?"
"Yes."
Constantine nodded immediately, his brow furrowed. "On the highway outside the city, a little boy has recently started appearing, always hitchhiking at midnight."
"The kindhearted drivers who pick him up inevitably end up dying in car accidents. I went to handle it too, but the result was the same as the Kuchisake-onna: he can't be killed."
At some point, he had lit a cigarette. He took a heavy drag. "It's as if these things have their own set of rules. They only act within their own small, fixed territory, killing in an infinite loop."
"And do these two spirits have one thing in common? Have they both been dead for a long time?"
Sephirot spoke up suddenly.
"How did you know?"
Constantine was startled. He only knew because he'd asked a friend in the police to check the records, which showed the Female Model had been dead for four or five years, and the little boy had died in a car accident several years ago as well.
That's it.
—--
Sephirot's mind raced.
This likely had everything to do with a voodoo priest named Papa Midnite.
Although the man was a wizard, he was primarily a businessman who only cared about money.
By charging exorbitant fees, he used voodoo to channel the souls of the dead into his own body, allowing wealthy people with regrets or guilt-ridden relatives to meet the deceased one last time to settle wills or say goodbyes.
But something must have gone wrong. His spirit channeling had spiraled out of control and turned into a sort of resurrection spell.
The vengeful spirits forcibly summoned back to the human world didn't return to Hell or Heaven. Instead, they were trapped at the site of their deaths, repeating the final scenes of their lives day after day, like a looping videotape.
As for what could cause a spell of that level to spiral out of control...
Thinking of this, Sephirot felt a chill. Darkness Approaches?!
His lazy expression vanished. He pointed to the map scroll on the table covered in blood droplets.
"So, from the very beginning, were you trying to tell me that Darkness Approaches?"
"What Darkness Approaches?"
Constantine looked at Sephirot with suspicion, struggling to keep up with the young man's erratic leap in logic.
However, seeing that Sephirot was finally interested in the "big matter" he had wanted to discuss – and given that he truly did need allies to share the burden – he went along with Sephirot's words. "I don't know what you mean by Darkness Approaches."
"The current situation is much more serious than that."
"Do you think that brainless demon from this afternoon could have crossed the barrier between our two worlds so easily on its own?"
"It happened because the barrier between Hell and the mortal realm is already riddled with holes."
(Translated by yourtl.app)
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The notes below are here to help readers unfamiliar with these universes follow along more easily.
TL NOTES - CROSSOVER GUIDE
Characters
Papa Midnite - A powerful Haitian voodoo sorcerer from DC/Vertigo Comics (Hellblazer series). He operates as a neutral broker between Heaven, Hell, and the mortal realm, running a nightclub and dealing in spirit channeling for a steep price. His motives are purely transactional, and he serves no master but his own interests. Whether Papa Midnite actually exists in this story's world remains unclear.