The Comprehensive Evolution of American Comics.

Chapter 1232 The Useful Constantine

Constantine doesn't like empty promises, but he can accept the empty promises from the Justice League guys.

After all, even the most cunning and shrewd old bat is someone who keeps his promises.

“I happen to have a lot of things I need money for lately.” Constantine took a drag of his favorite silk cigarette. “Dealing with demons takes a lot of money.”

Human goods are useless to most demons, but there are many things that can be traded with them that can be bought with money.

Although the most sought-after items in Hell are the souls of the most heinous criminals, especially those like him, just as there are things like money and gold on Earth, demons are sometimes attracted to other things as well.

Of course, this is not absolute; it simply depends on whether the demon you are trading with has this need.

Dealing with demons is a very profound skill, and Constantine is well-versed in it. If someone else were to do it halfway, they might not only get nothing, but they would also be very likely to be completely devoured by the demon.

“I will give you a satisfactory price,” Oliver assured him.

"Great." Constantine flicked his cigarette ash. "Tell me who you want me to find? I'd even try to snatch a dead person from hell."

Constantine sounds very generous, but those who know him well know that he is just saying nice things and shouldn't be taken seriously.

“Roy Harper, my adopted son, you should know him.”

Constantine frowned slightly, glancing at Klonroy sitting on his other side.

"Excuse me, are you really not here to make fun of me?"

“It’s a long story,” Oliver sighed and briefly recounted what had happened to Constantine.

“This has been quite a rollercoaster.” Constantine stubbed out his cigarette on the table. “If it’s really as you say, and the Zatara father and daughter can’t locate the real Roy Harper, then there’s only one possibility.”

“Something ancient or powerful is deliberately distorting his existence. It’s actually quite simple, especially for those old turtles.”

"You have a way to crack it, don't you?" Oliver asked hopefully.

“For an ordinary person, this might be quite troublesome.” Constantine lit another cigarette. “But you’ve come to the right person. Those demons have the best information network. As long as you can afford the price, I can find anything for you.”

"Oh, right, we also need to add one more thing: they have to dare to say it. You may not know, but in the world of magic, some beings' names are taboo. They can know as soon as their names are mentioned."

"So in order to avoid provoking those dangerous beings, the demons might have some indirect ways to inform them, or they might simply not do the business at all."

"Hopefully we'll be lucky and not run into those greedy guys who wouldn't dare mess with us."

“Give me some time.” Constantine stood up. “This bar’s warehouse is perfect for a simple summoning ritual.”

Constantine got up, walked over the bar, bypassed the bartender, grabbed the most expensive bottle from the cabinet, and then headed toward the warehouse he had mentioned.

After Constantine left, the magic seemed to disappear as well. The bartender noticed Oliver and his companion again and asked them what drinks they wanted.

"I'll have Arbey whiskey then." Oliver wasn't really in the mood for a drink, but it wouldn't be right to just sit there and wait without ordering one.

“I’ll have one too,” Roy chimed in.

Oliver didn't stop him. Although Roy wasn't old enough to drink, few people in the country would likely abide by the laws regarding alcohol. Take himself, for example; as the eldest son of the Quinn family, he had broken many rules long ago, and his self-deprecating humor about living a life of debauchery wasn't just empty talk.

However, neither of them planned to drink much, just sipping their drink intermittently while waiting for Constantine's news.

About twenty minutes later, Constantine, who looked even more haggard than before, returned to their side.

"Give me that whole bottle of whiskey," Constantine ordered the bartender as soon as he sat down.

However, his attire didn't suggest he could afford to drink, so the bartender didn't move until Oliver spoke up.

"Give it to him, and put it all on my tab."

Oliver pulled out a black card from Wayne Bank, and the bartender, recognizing its value, immediately handed Constantine a bottle of whiskey.

"Whew, that feels great!" Constantine gulped down a mouthful, drinking it down like a beer.

"Your job is really not easy."

As Constantine uttered those words, the bartender's eyes glazed over again, and he walked away as if he had lost his way, as if the magic had worked once more.

Oliver remained silent, appearing fully attentive.

"You guys are really unlucky, or maybe I'm just jinxing it, but the worst has happened."

Constantine pulled out his cigarette case again, and Roy glanced at it briefly, only to find that there were only two or three cigarettes left. He really didn't know if the former was smoking or eating cigarettes.

"Simply put, the guy who's been hiding the real Roy is a terrifying being, and the demon I found doesn't want to mess with him."

"Is there any other way?" Roy asked urgently.

“Don’t rush me, kid, let me finish.” Constantine rolled his eyes. “Since I’ve obediently returned instead of escaping through the window, it proves that I’ve taken care of things.”

"After all my efforts in intimidating him and making grand pronouncements, I finally managed to get him to confess. However, I definitely won't be able to find him for the time being, so you'll have to double the benefits you give me."

“No problem.” Oliver casually flipped through his checkbook, signed his name, and handed it to Constantine.

"You can fill in any number; I've already signed my name."

"Are you really not afraid I'll empty your pockets?" Constantine didn't take the money. "Fill it in however you want. No matter how much money you give me, I can't keep it."

"The more money I have, the more unlucky I become. I only need enough. But afterwards, I need you to help me find a few things. Don't worry, I know where they are. Just buy them for me."

“No problem,” Oliver readily agreed.

"Here you go." Constantine took a piece of paper out of his pocket, which looked like it had been torn from a cigarette pack.

"The coordinates you need are on the top. It's in Tibet. Remember to keep warm and bring some oxygen cylinders. I don't want the one who owes me to die first after all this time I've been a creditor."

"Thank you for your kind words." Oliver put away the note and patted Constantine on the shoulder in thanks.

(End of this chapter)