Superhero Comic – Overlord’s Path

Constantine felt cold.

It's very cold, not only the skin is telling him that he is going to be frozen, but also from the coldness of the heart, it is a kind of freezing emotion and the indifference of the soul, more like some kind of special contamination, he can't help but wrap it up Windbreaker wrapped around the body, but walking in a barren desert, just this kind of insulation, obviously not enough.

As for why he appeared in the Nevada desert, thousands of miles away from New York, this is obviously another story.

"What the **** do you want me to do!"

He couldn't help shouting towards the sky, "You TM tell me anyway! Don't TM torture me!"

"Go forward!"

The dark voice was surging in his heart, conveying only such a meaning, but it is certain that the real gangster he talked to was precisely because of his strong power, he could only use it when communicating This weak and unheard way, otherwise it is easy to be discovered by the Supreme Master who monitors the world.

After crossing the vast sea of ​​space overnight, Constantine as a whole looks like an old dog whose spine was completely broken. Without the optimism and playfulness of the previous, it is like being thrown into the sewage After three days and three nights, he completely wiped out his last trace of energy.

Like the most tired traveler, he struggled to move forward in the night desert. He did not know the goal, how long he had to walk, and he might even die in the desert at the next moment, but he had to move forward.

Every human being has weaknesses, even the most powerful Supreme Master is no exception, and these weaknesses should be well and carefully protected, otherwise once the weakness is mastered, the end will be extremely miserable, Constantine in front of him It is an extreme negative example.

He personally dug a huge abyss for himself. Now, he is going to be completely swallowed by the abyss he dug out. No one wants to be a stray dog, because no matter whether the owner loses or wins, the stray dog's end will not be too good, but the problem Yes, sometimes you have to be a dog...

For those who hold pride in their hearts, this is the most painful.

Above the icy and dark desert dunes, the spirit world detective looked around. He could be sure that he was completely lost now. In such an unmarked desert environment, he walked aimlessly like this. This is an inevitable result. , But just as he was about to raise his feet again, a person suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

"That is..."

He looked at that guy, very far, about a few hundred meters away, and only a rough outline could be seen in the dark, but it was certainly a human being, and he staggered in the direction of Constantine, but That kind of pace is extremely stiff, it doesn't look like a normal person at all, but like... a walking dead.

"boom"

Walking a dozen meters forward, it seemed that he had completely exhausted all his strength. He fell on his back and fell in the sand dunes, splashing a place of yellow sand, and startled Constantine.

He walked over, and squeezed the golden, encrusted fingers in his pocket on his fingers. He held the holy water tightly in the other hand. It took him nearly 10 minutes to walk to that. Beside the fallen guy, he looked at the people under his feet.

"Poor hair, dirty clothes, bare feet, plus this smell..."

Constantine squatted down, frowning at the man who had lost his breath and more like a soul. "It looks like it's from South America..."

He looked at the pair of feet that had been completely worn away. It was an absolutely cruel picture. It was so cruel that it made people scalp numb. He forced himself not to look at those feet. When he set his eyes on this guy’s While holding his hand, he saw a flash of light in the darkness.

It was like a ray of light refracted by metal. After seeing the guy holding it in his hand, Constantine reached out and took the cold metal from the guy, but it was just where the metal was. For a moment, the dead body just seemed to be weathered, flesh and blood turned into black quicksands scattered in place, the bones were fragmented, and only a small piece of bone left.

It looks like this corpse has been abandoned in the desert for hundreds of years.

This scene changed Constantine's face. He once again focused his attention on the metal scrap in his hand. It was a metal block with no features or even roughness, but he could barely see that it should belong to a certain type. The remains of the weapon, he turned the iron block carefully, and then saw the rune inscribed under the metal block.

He was as if stung by a poisonous scorpion. He threw that thing on the ground like a hot potato. He couldn't help but take a step back. He stumbled and fell. His feet kept rubbing in the desert to make his body recede. , Trying to stay away from the metal block. Obviously, this thing scared him.

"Are you afraid?"

The darkness appeared in front of him in the form of light and shadow, like a dark vortex suspended under the sky. Through the vortex, Constantine released Buddha and could see a pair of dark eyes looking directly at him.

"Why should you be afraid? Haven't you scumbags been pursuing such a powerful existence in madness? Why should you be afraid? Go... pick it up! Get your power, and then do the real big thing!"

"No! I refuse!"

Constantine watched with horror as he was thrown into the desert, just like ordinary weapon wreckage, a metal strip like a dagger, he shouted,

"I refuse! That is not something I can hold... You are murdering! Murdering my soul!"

"Hehehe"

The voice became cold, "If not...do you think your soul is of any use? Firewood only, I sent it out of **** and walked here from Datiankeng, the soul of ordinary people There is no way to bear the draw from it. I am tired of frequent holder changes...Fortunately, I found you."

"There is no way out, despair and sorrow, painful familiarity with the soul, the taste is still so beautiful.

"You must die."

The voice was indifferent. "At least it will allow you to live a little longer. Don't refuse this "gift." Think of Cheryl, poor idiot. Do you really think you have a choice?"

Constantine's refusal was blocked in his throat. As an exorcist, in the past, he was actually better at handling these troubles with flexible language and traps, but this time, he suddenly realized that language The power is so weak.

After walking into a desperate situation, he suddenly woke up. Those things that were regarded as unknown by him. Those things that he only relied on to make money are really worth relying on. At least if he is as strong as Cyber, this The **** would like to force him to do things that are tantamount to suicide.

But regret...it's too late.

"Click"

Constantine reached out the lighter, flicked it twice, and lit the cigarette. He sat on the cold sand dunes and looked at the night above his head. The sky had never looked so lonely. He reached out and touched his pocket. There, He has nothing, really nothing.

"Okay...okay, if that's the case..."

He reached out and picked up the dagger-like metal bar. When he started, the cold metal seemed to smell some kind of delicious thing. It began to heat up. Eventually, the burning power was reflected in Constantine's palm. , Like holding coke in his hand, the most important thing is that he can't discard it yet.

Like sticking to his hand, there is no way to be discarded.

"Ah!"

He kneeled painfully on the ground, his right arm was holding his right arm, and his muscles were trembling. It seemed that he was suffering some kind of terrible torture. After a while, the flesh was scorched, but he recovered quickly, just like Cyber's The self-healing is the same, but there is a complex mark on the recovered skin.

It was an orange-red pentacle, an inverted pentacle, dotted with intricate patterns, a pair of black wings, a flaming long sword, and a dotted star dotted in the center of the mark.

"really!"

Constantine's face was covered with cold sweat, which was the appearance of pain, he looked up at the empty sky,

"It really is you!!!"

While the poor, forced into the dead, Jaccon suffered in the Nevada desert, in the morgue of the Manhattan police station, an indifferent face of Angela and Father Hennessy, who had begun to recover from illness, stepped into it. , The policeman guarding the door of the morgue looked up and saw Angela,

"Hi, Detective Dawson, you came so early today!"

Angela looked at him, there was no smile in those eyes, and the Buddha became another person overnight. She was wearing a very casual clothes, a black trench coat, lined with tight jeans, and a belt. Wearing a baseball cap and carrying a small backpack, the whole person looks younger, but the overall temperament becomes gloomy.

To be precise, it is much more gloomy than the previous Detective Dawson.

"No, Ferguson, I quit."

Angela said calmly, "This job is not for me...I will see my sister today. This is the priest I found. He will preside over the burial ceremony of my sister."

The police officer named Ferguson was surprised. Angela was recognized as the most promising star of the youngest sergeant this year. Did she choose to resign at this critical moment?

He froze for a few seconds, reacted quickly, and said with a heavy face,

"I'm sorry about your sister's experience, Angela, you have to take care."

"There is nothing to apologize."

Angela took the sunglasses from her pocket and carried it on her face, and said very concisely, "This is not your fault, Ferguson, open the door. I have a tight time."

The policeman turned and took out a bunch of keys, pointing to the empty morgue,

"Room 13, your sister is there."

Angela nodded. She glanced at Ferguson again. To be precise, they looked at the two gritty ground-bound spirits standing behind Ferguson. They were drawing life from the police officer. They looked at Angela fiercely. , As Cyber ​​said, when she can see them, they can see her too.

Angela was silent for a moment, and said softly,

"Change your post, Ferguson, and, good luck."

A few minutes later, Angie stretched and pulled away her sister’s body bag and placed it in this cold morgue. Under this weather, the body did not change, and Isabella fell from the roof. Her location happened to be a swimming pool. The impact killed her instantly, but the body was not miserable.

The girl in front of her looked like she was asleep, her face was pale, especially her lips. She looked pale, and Angela's eyes were filled with inextricable pain until she reached out and tried to touch her sister. Father Hannesey who had been standing behind her suddenly said,

"Don't touch her!"

"Ok?"

"Don't touch her! Angela..."

Father Hannesy took three pairs of gloves from the side and brought them one by one. He carefully turned Isabella's arm over and pulled down the identity tag attached to his arm, revealing that it seemed to be a tattoo. But it is like a symbol of some kind of cult ceremony.

Father Hannesy seemed to be burned to the ground, and he took two steps back, madly crossing his chest,

"Lord...Gosh...you are right, Angela, your sister is not suicidal, this sign, this sign... Mamen. The son of darkness, committed a child who committed more serious sins than his father. Oh my God! This is crazy!"