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Chapter 311: Again, Again, and Again
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
Tony truly wanted to give Con a good kick.
It had to be said, anyone who wished to associate with Con needed to be prepared to endure "unavoidable external forces"—Constantine would always find some reason to screw you over.
"Constantine, sooner or later I'll lock you in the Magic Prison!" Tony glared fiercely at the cowering Constantine.
"Don't say that, I had no choice…" Constantine spread his hands, a wry smile on his face.
The Demon beside him let out an ugly, demonstrative roar at Con.
With a casual strike, Tony pulverized the noisy Demon into a bloody pulp, his expression grim: "Don't try to fool me, you unscrupulous bastard, you must have been caught by Mephisto and then compromised."
Don't doubt it, Con was truly capable of such things. Constantine had a rough childhood; his mother died in childbirth, and his father was imprisoned for stealing women's underwear. He was sent to live with his aunt, discriminated against by the children around him, and even had lit cigarette butts put out on his head… His incredibly difficult life taught him to compromise with reality, giving him a peculiar personality and a shameless lack of moral bottom line.
Towards friends and family, high-handed blackmail was Con's sole attitude. This scumbag never cared about good or evil; Demons, Angels, Humans, and the like, were all resources he could exploit.
This bastard could even spit chewed gum onto an Angel.
There was no bottom to his depravity, only deeper depravity—that was Hell Detective Constantine.
If not for the deeply hidden, uncooled passionate heart within Con, Tony would have loved to slap this menace to death.
"I'll settle the score with you later!" Tony cursed.
"Wait, wait, we can talk again. All clues point to Mephisto; it's that hateful Archdemon who threatened me… Oh, Holy Lord Mephisto, I was just speaking casually, please don't mind…"
Constantine shouted, his crumpled tie trembling with his cries, before the impatient Mephisto grabbed it, flinging him aside.
Holy? Describing an Archdemon as holy? Mephisto wanted to strangle Con, but considering Constantine's special identity, he was somewhat wary and let him go.
"Tony, my slave, we finally meet again." Mephisto leaned on his staff, like an old gentleman, taking measured and precise steps as he stared at Tony across the road.
Deep greed flashed in those eyes that seemed filled with warmth.
The Power of the Contract began to exert itself. Tony let out a muffled groan, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, then streaming down like a waterfall. His body's instincts began to warn him, every cell growing restless, delivering Energy with increased efficiency.
"What's wrong?" Wanda cried out in alarm, quickly rushing to Tony's side, a hint of panic in her beautiful eyes, which were filled with unease and worry.
Blackheart, finally free from his restraints, took the opportunity to escape. The seemingly delicate fellow casually straightened his jaw, rubbed it, and it returned to normal. He stared at Mephisto with hatred.
"Why are you here, worried I'll kill your Knight? You're always like this, giving extra Power to outsiders, then fretting like an old mother… You should have given the Power of the Spirit of Vengeance to me back then! Just watch, I'll take back what's mine, and then conquer the world you covet, Father!"
Blackheart emphasized the unfamiliar word "Father" heavily, a hint of gnashing teeth in his voice.
Mephisto seemed to only just notice his son was there, giving him a cold glance before turning back to Tony, full of greed.
In his eyes, a hundred useless Blackhearts weren't worth one Tony.
Even the Ghost Rider's presence was greatly diminished.
Originally, Ghost Rider was Mephisto's most satisfactory creation and a highly valued combat power. He had put in great effort to subdue a Spirit of Vengeance and then, through a Contract, inserted it into Johnny's body.
But Mephisto suddenly discovered he could gain much more from Tony.
Moreover, the Contract was already in place. Over a year ago, Tony had borrowed his Power to enslave Dormammu; this was practically an opportunity delivered right to his doorstep.
Although Mephisto's true body had also been severely hunted by the Ancient One, becoming a laughingstock in Hell.
"Tony, according to the Contract, your soul is mine, and everything you possess is mine." Mephisto revealed a gentle smile. In a trance, those present seemed to glimpse the Demon's sharp fangs.
Stripped of its facade, only the inner demonic essence remained, a deformed skeleton.
The flames on Ghost Rider flickered. Burning chains shot out from his body in a flash of Electricity, heading straight for Mephisto.
Mephisto didn't even look, simply tilted his head slightly, and Ghost Rider fell to the ground, howling in pain.
"If your true body came, I might truly be unable to resist your control, but you are merely a clone now. Are you seeking death by revealing yourself?"
Tony took a deep breath and slowly stood up. The Contract Power, deeply embedded in his soul, placed a great burden on him. But that was the extent of it; its impact on his combat power was limited. The Allspark was also bound to his soul, crushing the Contract's Power on a hierarchical level.
"A clone is enough to deal with you. You're not the Ancient One, nor are you someone without weaknesses." Mephisto pointed to his forehead, "You signed a bilateral contract with Dormammu, which makes you afraid to take risks. You can only keep your soul at its peak, unable to break the Contract's Power by sacrificing a limb, as that would gravely injure or even instantly kill you."
Mephisto slowly stepped forward, exuding the bearing of a Hell Lord. Under everyone's gaze, his figure seemed to slowly grow larger, gradually sprouting demon horns and claws, a dense aura of sin spreading at an astonishing speed.
The teleportation array also stirred. Just as it was about to vanish, it suddenly brightened. In an instant, a portal directly connecting the Main Universe and Hell was temporarily constructed, and a horde of Demons swarmed out, arriving on Earth.
The sudden appearance of a large number of demonic auras startled the sorcerers and various other sensitives on Earth. That feeling of revulsion clearly told them something big had happened.
"Three hundred Demons are nothing," Tony told Betty, Max, and the others who had gathered. "You're responsible for killing these lowly Demons, and I'll take care of Blackheart and Mephisto."
"Just you? It seems you misunderstand my strength, foolish mortal!" Blackheart clutched his stomach and laughed loudly.
But no one paid attention to the idiot, leaving him to play his solo act.
Blackheart's laughter abruptly ceased. He felt like a clown; not only did Mephisto see him that way, but even Tony, whom he met for the first time, looked at him the same way. This was unacceptable to the proud and arrogant Blackheart.
"You bastards, you'll pay! I won't let any of you go!" Blackheart roared and screamed, becoming a complete clown.
A chaotic battle erupted. A group of super-powered individuals led by Max bravely charged out, colliding with the cross-dimensional Demons. At the same time, a large number of Transformers were animated, joining the battle alongside the still-mobile undead warriors.
A vast array of weapons from Tony's Manor were brought out, precisely attacking the Demons' bodies under the control of internal personnel, though they could only leave white marks on the Demons' skin.
It was like a live-action sci-fi blockbuster, filled with blood and severed limbs. The Demons' fighting style was brutal; undying soldiers were frequently torn in half and devoured.
The Demons were also gradually being depleted. These hastily summoned Demons were not collectively powerful, and Max and his team could handle them completely.
Only Blackheart stood there dumbfounded, watching the fervent great war. Finally, with an unwilling roar, he ran off in a huff.
He was totally superfluous, ignored by everyone. The noble Demon Prince had been deliberately overlooked, a profound humiliation. Blackheart swore he would return.
Wanda tightly shielded Tony, sticking by his side, her body tensed as she guarded against the seemingly harmless old gentleman in front. Feeling anxious, she whispered, "Darling, how do you feel? Should I cover you first…"
"No need, the Power of a mere clone can't fully unleash the level seven Contract Power," Tony interrupted Wanda's suggestion to retreat, smiling. "And don't worry, we have help too. Mephisto will regret this."
It was at this moment that the thrown-aside Constantine stood up, his face grim. The unreliable, slovenly man uncharacteristically straightened his branded tie and his wrinkled trench coat, his expression becoming serious.
He surveyed the battlefield, focusing on the towering Mephisto, sighing deeply. Calmly, he pulled out his beloved "Ska" brand cigarette from his pocket, lit it, exhaled, and squinted, watching everything with a profound gaze.
A faint smile quietly curved on Tony's lips.
Con… always scheming, always exploiting, always unscrupulous, always shameless… well, he had no commendable qualities at all.
But Tony deeply understood what a passionate heart this slovenly fellow secretly harbored.
He looked forward to it, looking forward to this night, when Hell Detective Constantine would redeem himself.
The man, whose gaze had deepened, silently extinguished his half-smoked cigarette and carefully put it into his pocket. Then, he cast a powerful, hidden magic on himself—his ultimate trump card. Today, he felt it was time to use it.
Constantine looked at Tony, who was anticipating his move, with a determined expression. He bent down slightly, ungracefully lifting his too-long trench coat, then shot out like a rocket, with unyielding resolve, charging forward!
Con shot out like a rocket! His speed grew faster and faster!!
"Mephisto! You will pay the price!!!" Constantine roared with a voice full of grief and indignation.
Powerful magic granted him astonishing speed. While roaring indignantly, he swiftly… increased the distance between himself and Mephisto.
On the ground, a long trail of dust was left behind, the incredible speed kicking up the dirt.
"Tony, hold on! I'll call for help!"
Constantine roared in a tragic voice, but his steps grew even faster. He vanished into the distance in an instant, leaving everyone in his dust.
Constantine, that bastard, the one who brought Mephisto and a pile of Demons, truly lived up to expectations and indeed abandoned his teammates and fled.
Constantine fled again, again, and again!!!
(end of chapter)
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
Tony truly wanted to give Con a good kick.
It had to be said, anyone who wished to associate with Con needed to be prepared to endure "unavoidable external forces"—Constantine would always find some reason to screw you over.
"Constantine, sooner or later I'll lock you in the Magic Prison!" Tony glared fiercely at the cowering Constantine.
"Don't say that, I had no choice…" Constantine spread his hands, a wry smile on his face.
The Demon beside him let out an ugly, demonstrative roar at Con.
With a casual strike, Tony pulverized the noisy Demon into a bloody pulp, his expression grim: "Don't try to fool me, you unscrupulous bastard, you must have been caught by Mephisto and then compromised."
Don't doubt it, Con was truly capable of such things. Constantine had a rough childhood; his mother died in childbirth, and his father was imprisoned for stealing women's underwear. He was sent to live with his aunt, discriminated against by the children around him, and even had lit cigarette butts put out on his head… His incredibly difficult life taught him to compromise with reality, giving him a peculiar personality and a shameless lack of moral bottom line.
Towards friends and family, high-handed blackmail was Con's sole attitude. This scumbag never cared about good or evil; Demons, Angels, Humans, and the like, were all resources he could exploit.
This bastard could even spit chewed gum onto an Angel.
There was no bottom to his depravity, only deeper depravity—that was Hell Detective Constantine.
If not for the deeply hidden, uncooled passionate heart within Con, Tony would have loved to slap this menace to death.
"I'll settle the score with you later!" Tony cursed.
"Wait, wait, we can talk again. All clues point to Mephisto; it's that hateful Archdemon who threatened me… Oh, Holy Lord Mephisto, I was just speaking casually, please don't mind…"
Constantine shouted, his crumpled tie trembling with his cries, before the impatient Mephisto grabbed it, flinging him aside.
Holy? Describing an Archdemon as holy? Mephisto wanted to strangle Con, but considering Constantine's special identity, he was somewhat wary and let him go.
"Tony, my slave, we finally meet again." Mephisto leaned on his staff, like an old gentleman, taking measured and precise steps as he stared at Tony across the road.
Deep greed flashed in those eyes that seemed filled with warmth.
The Power of the Contract began to exert itself. Tony let out a muffled groan, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, then streaming down like a waterfall. His body's instincts began to warn him, every cell growing restless, delivering Energy with increased efficiency.
"What's wrong?" Wanda cried out in alarm, quickly rushing to Tony's side, a hint of panic in her beautiful eyes, which were filled with unease and worry.
Blackheart, finally free from his restraints, took the opportunity to escape. The seemingly delicate fellow casually straightened his jaw, rubbed it, and it returned to normal. He stared at Mephisto with hatred.
"Why are you here, worried I'll kill your Knight? You're always like this, giving extra Power to outsiders, then fretting like an old mother… You should have given the Power of the Spirit of Vengeance to me back then! Just watch, I'll take back what's mine, and then conquer the world you covet, Father!"
Blackheart emphasized the unfamiliar word "Father" heavily, a hint of gnashing teeth in his voice.
Mephisto seemed to only just notice his son was there, giving him a cold glance before turning back to Tony, full of greed.
In his eyes, a hundred useless Blackhearts weren't worth one Tony.
Even the Ghost Rider's presence was greatly diminished.
Originally, Ghost Rider was Mephisto's most satisfactory creation and a highly valued combat power. He had put in great effort to subdue a Spirit of Vengeance and then, through a Contract, inserted it into Johnny's body.
But Mephisto suddenly discovered he could gain much more from Tony.
Moreover, the Contract was already in place. Over a year ago, Tony had borrowed his Power to enslave Dormammu; this was practically an opportunity delivered right to his doorstep.
Although Mephisto's true body had also been severely hunted by the Ancient One, becoming a laughingstock in Hell.
"Tony, according to the Contract, your soul is mine, and everything you possess is mine." Mephisto revealed a gentle smile. In a trance, those present seemed to glimpse the Demon's sharp fangs.
Stripped of its facade, only the inner demonic essence remained, a deformed skeleton.
The flames on Ghost Rider flickered. Burning chains shot out from his body in a flash of Electricity, heading straight for Mephisto.
Mephisto didn't even look, simply tilted his head slightly, and Ghost Rider fell to the ground, howling in pain.
"If your true body came, I might truly be unable to resist your control, but you are merely a clone now. Are you seeking death by revealing yourself?"
Tony took a deep breath and slowly stood up. The Contract Power, deeply embedded in his soul, placed a great burden on him. But that was the extent of it; its impact on his combat power was limited. The Allspark was also bound to his soul, crushing the Contract's Power on a hierarchical level.
"A clone is enough to deal with you. You're not the Ancient One, nor are you someone without weaknesses." Mephisto pointed to his forehead, "You signed a bilateral contract with Dormammu, which makes you afraid to take risks. You can only keep your soul at its peak, unable to break the Contract's Power by sacrificing a limb, as that would gravely injure or even instantly kill you."
Mephisto slowly stepped forward, exuding the bearing of a Hell Lord. Under everyone's gaze, his figure seemed to slowly grow larger, gradually sprouting demon horns and claws, a dense aura of sin spreading at an astonishing speed.
The teleportation array also stirred. Just as it was about to vanish, it suddenly brightened. In an instant, a portal directly connecting the Main Universe and Hell was temporarily constructed, and a horde of Demons swarmed out, arriving on Earth.
The sudden appearance of a large number of demonic auras startled the sorcerers and various other sensitives on Earth. That feeling of revulsion clearly told them something big had happened.
"Three hundred Demons are nothing," Tony told Betty, Max, and the others who had gathered. "You're responsible for killing these lowly Demons, and I'll take care of Blackheart and Mephisto."
"Just you? It seems you misunderstand my strength, foolish mortal!" Blackheart clutched his stomach and laughed loudly.
But no one paid attention to the idiot, leaving him to play his solo act.
Blackheart's laughter abruptly ceased. He felt like a clown; not only did Mephisto see him that way, but even Tony, whom he met for the first time, looked at him the same way. This was unacceptable to the proud and arrogant Blackheart.
"You bastards, you'll pay! I won't let any of you go!" Blackheart roared and screamed, becoming a complete clown.
A chaotic battle erupted. A group of super-powered individuals led by Max bravely charged out, colliding with the cross-dimensional Demons. At the same time, a large number of Transformers were animated, joining the battle alongside the still-mobile undead warriors.
A vast array of weapons from Tony's Manor were brought out, precisely attacking the Demons' bodies under the control of internal personnel, though they could only leave white marks on the Demons' skin.
It was like a live-action sci-fi blockbuster, filled with blood and severed limbs. The Demons' fighting style was brutal; undying soldiers were frequently torn in half and devoured.
The Demons were also gradually being depleted. These hastily summoned Demons were not collectively powerful, and Max and his team could handle them completely.
Only Blackheart stood there dumbfounded, watching the fervent great war. Finally, with an unwilling roar, he ran off in a huff.
He was totally superfluous, ignored by everyone. The noble Demon Prince had been deliberately overlooked, a profound humiliation. Blackheart swore he would return.
Wanda tightly shielded Tony, sticking by his side, her body tensed as she guarded against the seemingly harmless old gentleman in front. Feeling anxious, she whispered, "Darling, how do you feel? Should I cover you first…"
"No need, the Power of a mere clone can't fully unleash the level seven Contract Power," Tony interrupted Wanda's suggestion to retreat, smiling. "And don't worry, we have help too. Mephisto will regret this."
It was at this moment that the thrown-aside Constantine stood up, his face grim. The unreliable, slovenly man uncharacteristically straightened his branded tie and his wrinkled trench coat, his expression becoming serious.
He surveyed the battlefield, focusing on the towering Mephisto, sighing deeply. Calmly, he pulled out his beloved "Ska" brand cigarette from his pocket, lit it, exhaled, and squinted, watching everything with a profound gaze.
A faint smile quietly curved on Tony's lips.
Con… always scheming, always exploiting, always unscrupulous, always shameless… well, he had no commendable qualities at all.
But Tony deeply understood what a passionate heart this slovenly fellow secretly harbored.
He looked forward to it, looking forward to this night, when Hell Detective Constantine would redeem himself.
The man, whose gaze had deepened, silently extinguished his half-smoked cigarette and carefully put it into his pocket. Then, he cast a powerful, hidden magic on himself—his ultimate trump card. Today, he felt it was time to use it.
Constantine looked at Tony, who was anticipating his move, with a determined expression. He bent down slightly, ungracefully lifting his too-long trench coat, then shot out like a rocket, with unyielding resolve, charging forward!
Con shot out like a rocket! His speed grew faster and faster!!
"Mephisto! You will pay the price!!!" Constantine roared with a voice full of grief and indignation.
Powerful magic granted him astonishing speed. While roaring indignantly, he swiftly… increased the distance between himself and Mephisto.
On the ground, a long trail of dust was left behind, the incredible speed kicking up the dirt.
"Tony, hold on! I'll call for help!"
Constantine roared in a tragic voice, but his steps grew even faster. He vanished into the distance in an instant, leaving everyone in his dust.
Constantine, that bastard, the one who brought Mephisto and a pile of Demons, truly lived up to expectations and indeed abandoned his teammates and fled.
Constantine fled again, again, and again!!!
(end of chapter)
