The law of the world should be like this — there is a cause and there is an effect, an equivalent exchange, you reap what you sow …
Mortals live within the rules. Their lives are limited within a framework. It is order, it is rules, it is common sense, it is limits. It is a kind of restraint, but it is also a kind of protection. In short, there is a rule in the heavens …
What about us?
We cheat!
We despise the rules, we play with the laws of the universe, we make it give us karma, we reap without sowing, we look for loopholes, we trample on contracts … We are mages!
Mages are the ones who trample on the rules, they are cheaters!
Constantine lowered his head and lit a cigarette. He walked through the dark alley outside the bar. The weak light from the lighter cast a long shadow on his back.
He took a deep puff and slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.
Constantine stepped unsteadily on the puddles of filthy water as he staggered forward …
A dark shadow appeared in front of him. He was leaning against the wall, right in front of Dotty's pet shop where Constantine lived. Constantine did not hesitate. Who the hell knew who would come looking for him? He had so many troubles that he did not want to deal with them.
As mentioned before, the ways of the heavens are constant … Cheaters have to pay the price. Though no one knew the reason or the specific method, the price was inevitable. Constantine had long understood that from his twenty years of experience, which was why he gradually distanced himself from magic and relied on swindling to make a living.
After all, he was a cheater who was targeted by the regulators.
Mages could distort time and space, control other people's thoughts, and create life. There were no rules to them. That was magic. It made mages a very dangerous existence — to others and to themselves.
The little spider greeted the dispirited man who was walking toward him. "Hi! You are John Constantine? I was introduced to you by someone. She said you are very resourceful … "
"Then did she ever say that I'm a scum?" Constantine casually replied, "Where did you meet her? Moonlight Rabbit Manor? Or Madam Cher's Ranch? Tell her I have money and I will pay the bill … Or she can take a cut from your commission? Or has she already taken a cut? "
"She did mention that to me," the little spider emphasized. The little spider emphasized, "But it's not to the extent that you'll owe female workers service fees."
"Haha …" Constantine laughed. "The service fee for female workers … Let's just call it the escort fee!"
"She suggested me to look for Shadow Contract, Shazan, Madam Shangdu, Sage Aoqi, Faust, Witch, Doctor Fate … She knows all of these people, and they are all more reliable than you … But I still made up my mind the moment I heard your name." The little spider shrugged. "Because he used your name. I think this proves that you're unusual."
"Every user of magic is different …" Constantine sighed. "But you didn't come here because of the advertisements … In fact, you're the kind of customer I hate the most. Customers who come here because of advertisements or acquaintances are just pitiful people who are pestered by unclean things. But for someone like you, if you're introduced by someone in uniform or someone in the industry … it's usually big trouble. "
"And I don't want to get involved in that kind of trouble."
The little spider was silent for a moment. He decided to use the method that the Prophet had taught him before he left. The Prophet did not want to meet this scumbag. He did not even want to breathe in the same city as him, so the little spider came to Constantine alone. Who told him to stop walking when he heard that name?
Chen Ang had used that name in his original world.
The little spider knew that very well!
"Those people are also poor …" The little spider was a little embarrassed, but he still followed the Prophet's instructions and recited the words, "And I … ugh … am rich!"
Constantine's eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, but they instantly lit up.
He straightened himself and looked at the little spider solemnly. "How rich …"
The little spider let go of himself and whispered like Batman, "Being rich is my superpower!"
Constantine looked at the little spider, who was dressed like an ordinary student. He felt that the little spider's words were not convincing at all, but strangely, he could tell that it was the truth. It did not matter if he was rich or if the person behind him was rich … No, it was very important. Constantine was not a man who cared about money.
It was just that money was more important than his life.
"Come in!" Constantine pushed the door open. The little animals in the pet shop were startled. Some dogs started sniffing loudly. An old woman's voice came from the attic. "Is that you? Constantine, I heard a noise downstairs … "
Constantine shouted, "It's me, Mrs. Dottie."
"Why are you so late? But I'm relieved that you're back … "
Constantine led the little spider through the cage of the dead pet. He pushed open the door to the basement. The little spider glanced at the attic. He missed the familiar family atmosphere, but the little spider still reminded Constantine, "You look like you get into trouble easily … Then you shouldn't live with ordinary people."
"People who cause me trouble are usually reasonable," Constantine said. "Besides, I don't have the money to rent a single room. If you give me enough money this time, who wouldn't want to move out?"
The little spider could understand the helplessness of poverty.
"All animals can disrupt divination magic. Don't be fooled by their low energy, but they are very useful. As long as you know this, any ordinary thing can cause trouble for your opponent," Constantine explained.
"Does the ability of a prophet … count?" the little spider suddenly asked.
Constantine suddenly turned around and stared at the little spider with a sharp gaze. "A prophet?" He used one hand to pull away the animal products hanging from the ceiling. There were dried bird and lizard corpses, processed skulls, and other random things. The basement was as messy as a shop for witchcraft supplies. There were all kinds of strange things from different civilizations.
There was a specimen that looked like an octopus in the sink, an exaggerated mask of a native from Africa or the South Pacific, and a specimen of a two-headed gorilla.
"You mean … the prophet?" Constantine hinted.
"The prophet with three heads …" The little spider looked at Constantine's collection excitedly. He praised, "You look very reliable. Even though I'm a sorcerer too — a sorcerer paragon, I don't know any magic, so the prophet asked me to give it a try …"
"I don't teach magic." Constantine shook his head.
"Ten million USD …"
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