Chapter 25: Qian + Kang – The adjustment period is probably going to be a bit long

Only a few seconds after the call was disconnected, Constantine unexpectedly began calling Jiang Shulan back over and over again.

His phone kept ringing and vibrating.

Jiang Shulan’s eyes darted around nervously as he twisted his fingers together, pushing his brain to its absolute limit.

‘What should I do? Should I answer or not?’

Anyone interrupted in the middle of something like that would probably be angry, right?

Was he calling back just to scold him?

But he really did need Constantine’s help.

And if he answered… what was he supposed to say first? Apologize? Or pretend he hadn’t seen anything at all?

It was mortifying.

After hesitating for quite a while, Jiang Shulan finally accepted the call. Strangely, Constantine had stubbornly insisted on making it a video call every single time.

The moment the connection went through, Jiang Shulan pursed his lips awkwardly, unable to meet Constantine’s gaze as he lowered his head.

Constantine realized he had never truly looked at his friend this carefully before.

Jiang Shulan was one of the few people he considered a friend. The strongest impression he had always had was that the young priest was simply too fragile, someone who never should have walked the dangerous road of exorcism.

As for embarrassment? Constantine barely understood the concept anymore.

Those ordinary human emotions had long since been ground away during his years in psychiatric confinement.

Using two fingers, he zoomed in on the image on his phone. Narrowing his eyes, he inspected the person on the other end inch by inch, refusing to miss a single detail.

The little priest’s raven-like eyelashes drooped, casting delicate shadows across his cheeks. His rosy lips were lightly pressed together, making them look even softer.

Even without seeing his entire face clearly, that fleeting glimpse was enough for Constantine to realize just how stunningly beautiful he was.

Tiny tears still clung to the young priest’s lashes, and faint tracks remained on his exquisitely delicate face. He looked heartbreakingly pitiful.

How had Constantine never noticed before?

He had wasted so much time.

Had he realized earlier, perhaps those tears would have been shed for an entirely different reason.

Then again, he remembered that the little priest suffered from a heart condition and couldn’t endure excessive shock. Things would have to proceed gradually.

Constantine casually bit down on the cigarette between his lips.

Just one look had been enough to stir feelings he found embarrassingly difficult to ignore.

The murderous irritation from having his business interrupted disappeared without a trace, replaced by his usual world-weary charm.

“So,” he asked lazily, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. Did I interrupt you?” Jiang Shulan clasped his hands together apologetically before speaking with complete sincerity. “I ran into a ghost. Can you come save me?”

“A ghost?”

Most of Constantine’s experience involved demons.

Ghosts, on the other hand, were practically unfamiliar territory.

Still, that didn’t stop him from asking, “Where are you?”

Jiang Shulan obediently gave him the location.

Running a hand through his hair, Constantine leaned back and deliberately put on an expression of difficulty.

“Little priest… do you know where I am right now?”

He was in Los Angeles, the City of Angels, thousands of miles away.

Jiang Shulan blinked, disappointment flickering across his face.

So that was a polite refusal?

“All right,” he said quietly. “Then I’ll ask someone else.”

“Someone else?”

Constantine rolled those words around in his mouth before spitting them out coldly.

“Are you sure?”

Though his tone was deliberately casual, every syllable seemed squeezed out through clenched teeth, carrying an unsettling chill beneath the indifference.

Jiang Shulan jumped.

Why had his attitude changed so suddenly?

It almost sounded as if Jiang Shulan had somehow betrayed him.

“If you’re not coming, then of course I’ll find someone else,” he puffed out his cheeks indignantly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Who said I wasn’t coming?”

Truthfully, there probably wasn’t anyone else he could ask.

Without missing a beat, Jiang Shulan eagerly took the opening Constantine offered.

“But didn’t you say you’re really far away?”

“…I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

In his distinctive low, magnetic voice, Constantine added, “But listen carefully, little priest. If you dare ask anyone else for help…”

“I guarantee that no one in this world will be able to solve your problem.”

Was this really how ordinary friends talked?

He was only asking Constantine to deal with a ghost. Why did the warning sound so much like jealousy?

Then again…

They were just normal friends, weren’t they?

[System,] Jiang Shulan asked inwardly, [I’m not imagining things, right? You didn’t secretly assign me another boyfriend, did you?]

[No.]

The trust that once existed was gone, and the system’s metaphorical “heart” ached.

Receiving that assurance, Jiang Shulan immediately hung up.

At last, he could finally get a good night’s sleep.

Meanwhile, Constantine stared at the now-dark phone screen in silence.

“So you think you can run after getting what you want?”

“It’s not that easy.”

There was, however, one thing Jiang Shulan had misunderstood.

Constantine hadn’t been engaged in anything intimate at all.

He had been performing an exorcism.

The reason he had removed his shirt was simply because the demon smelled revolting. Exorcising it required direct contact while reciting sacred incantations, and the creature would inevitably struggle.

He didn’t care much about appearances, but he certainly didn’t enjoy being covered in the stench.

“Constantine!” the demon roared from the bed where it had been bound by sheets soaked in holy water. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you? You actually answered a phone call?”

As a proud demon, it found the lack of respect intolerable.

Still, many demons underestimated Constantine.

They knew he had sent countless fiends back to Hell in pursuit of earning his way into Heaven, yet they continued trying to tempt him.

After all, his motivation wasn’t pure altruism.

He fought demons because of his own salvation.

And selfish humans were usually the easiest prey.

The only problem was that, so far, none had ever succeeded.

With a flick of his thumb, Constantine snapped open his lighter and lit another cigarette.

“Kill me? You?”

Taking a slow drag, he watched the smoke drift lazily through the air before fading away.

“Looks like I’ll need another shower after this.”

He had somewhere else to be now.

This needed to end quickly.

Without warning, he slammed a cross against the demon’s forehead, bringing his arms together and exposing the angelic summoning tattoo along his forearm as he coldly recited the exorcism rite.

The demon’s body immediately twisted into a grotesque shape.

Rotting flesh and blood-red veins spread across its form.

It thrashed wildly, limbs contorting and bones snapping, its claws gouging deep furrows into the wooden bedframe.

Yet it could not escape Constantine’s grasp.

The next instant, flames engulfed its body.

As he walked away, Constantine casually retrieved his shirt and trench coat from the chair, slipped them on, and took another deep draw from his cigarette.

Behind him, only ashes remained.

The hotel staff would deal with the cleanup.

But considering how far he was about to travel…

He intended to collect suitable compensation for the trip.

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