"No need to check. I don't value this thing, nor am I interested in tampering with the card."
Aaron noticed Constantine's caution and casually pulled out another card.
Constantine curiously leaned his head over to look at the card and softly read out the name. "Demon Pass?"
"What is this thing?"
As soon as he spoke, Constantine felt an inexplicable fear rise within him. Just by looking at this card, he felt as if he was staring into the abyss.
What a terrifying existence it was!
He had walked in hell and had stared directly at powerful Hell Lords and Archdemons.
But in front of this small card, he could only tremble all over. That feeling of fear was indescribable. He had a premonition that if Aaron made any request now, he wouldn't refuse.
"Slap yourself."
Slap!
Constantine did so without hesitation.
"Give me the most precious thing on you."
Constantine pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Clearly, to him, the most precious thing on him was this.
Aaron's lips twitched, but he wasn't surprised at all.
Otherwise, how did Constantine get lung cancer? It was from smoking all day, every day.
From the moment Constantine appeared until now, he had always had a cigarette in his hand.
"Say 'John Constantine is a scumbag' three times out loud."
"John Constantine is a scumbag!"
"John…"
Constantine hated this feeling of having his soul and consciousness dominated.
No, that description wasn't quite right, because he was clearly aware of everything, and could even feel aversion and opposition. But because of fear, and some indescribable power, he subconsciously obeyed Aaron's will.
That feeling…
It was like being tied up by another man and watching him screw your wife—no, that's not right, it should be, screw him.
Wait, that description isn't right either. At least for him, it's no big deal.
If it were Aaron… that would definitely be enjoyment.
Wait! What the hell am I thinking? Am I an M? F*ck! Impossible!
Constantine's eyes revealed unwillingness and repulsion, but his body was very obedient to his inner self.
This feeling lasted until Aaron retrieved the Demon Pass, then it disappeared.
Constantine regained control of his body, stumbled back two steps, and shielded Rip in front of him.
"Buddy, what did you just do? Listen to me, that joke isn't funny at all."
"Oh really? The others don't think so."
Aaron hinted at something, and Constantine turned his head, only to see Legends of Tomorrow members, despite their horror, struggling to suppress the corners of their lips from turning up.
Raven even laughed, disregarding Constantine completely, a rare sight.
Constantine's face darkened, and he changed the subject, "What was that thing you had? Was it really a demon pass?"
As he spoke, he watched Aaron's movements warily, fearing he would pull out that thing again.
"No, the Demon Pass has nothing to do with demons at all."
Aaron shook his head and said casually, "You can think of the Demon Pass as an upgraded version of your card. As long as you take it out, you can control everything about others except their thoughts and logic, allowing the user to do whatever they want unconditionally."
"Hiss..."
Upon hearing this description, everyone gasped, contributing to global warming.
To be honest, the power of the Demon Pass was simply too tempting. With this, they could become dictators, masters of the world.
No one could resist them holding the card.
Heatwave thought of The Flash. If he had this thing, he would definitely make The Flash run around Earth a thousand times on his hands, all while self-flagellating.
Sara thought of Aaron. If she had the Demon Pass, she could explore more positions.
Rip thought he might be able to use the Demon Pass to fight Savage, and even Trigon.
Hold the pass and tell Trigon to go back.
Rip couldn't help but voice his thoughts.
However, Aaron mercilessly dismissed his wild fantasy, "Don't even think about it. This thing was something I made casually. It's fine for commanding ordinary demons or even angels, but it's not enough to deal with Trigon. At least, not this one."
Not this one? Does that mean there is one that works?
Rip was disappointed but then realized the implication.
Constantine also reacted. "My friend…"
Under Aaron's death glare, Constantine quickly changed his address, "Ahem, buddy, are you serious?"
"What do you think?"
Aaron didn't answer directly. He could indeed do that, but it would be difficult. It would only temporarily drive Trigon away.
But merely driving him away wasn't enough, he preferred a permanent solution.
"I think… we can make a deal? Buddy."
Constantine's eyes darted around, and he approached with a fawning smile.
Aaron recoiled in disgust.
Constantine was utterly defeated.
No, am I really that unlucky?
You're a super god who can casually create a Demon Pass, do you really need to be afraid of a tiny exorcist like me?
Do you know how much psychological trauma that small gesture caused a thirty-year-old man? F*ck!
Seeing even the mysterious and powerful Aaron react this way when facing Constantine, the other originally nonchalant members of Legends of Tomorrow realized the seriousness of the problem.
They had always thought Aaron was joking, but it turned out he was serious.
Is Constantine really that much of a jinx? Is he truly a cesspool?
Otherwise, why would Aaron even be unwilling to get too close to Constantine?
Even Rip, who had always been unconcerned, couldn't help but start recalling Constantine's life experiences.
Because of the threats from Trigon and Savage, he didn't have much energy to investigate everyone, so he had only briefly understood Constantine.
In his decades of working as an exorcist, Constantine had banished tens of thousands of demons, making him undoubtedly the most outstanding exorcist in his world.
But he never expected that John was a jinx, a true source of bad luck.
Right, being such an excellent exorcist, why hadn't he found many friends?
He could eliminate so many demons. Was it truly just his powerful strength, without any cost?
If there was a cost, what would it be?
Wait, did I have physical contact with him before?
"Damn it, have I also caught some bad luck?"
Rip's face changed drastically, and he subtly backed away from Constantine.
If it weren't for the immediate threat of Trigon, he would have wanted to run back to the spaceship and scrub himself thoroughly, at least ten times.
The others followed suit. Although they didn't directly show it, when Constantine looked over, they had, at some unknown point, all moved to a farther position—they even avoided his gaze.
Damn it, they're all bastards!
This is how my reputation was ruined! I'm clearly a good person, the kind Heaven should give awards to.
If it weren't for those bird-people having their damn agreement, John Constantine would have ascended to Heaven to enjoy bliss long ago for his outstanding contributions.
Why has it come to this?
John Constantine's face was filled with indignation. "Rip, my friend…"
Whether it was an illusion or not, when Constantine said the word "friend," Rip got goosebumps all over, as if countless blood-red eyes in the darkness were staring intently at him.
In his ears, he even heard indescribable, ethereal whispers.
"I see you, Constantine's friend."
Rip shivered and waved his hands repeatedly.
"Wait, that term 'friend'… I think we should hold off on that for now. Just call me Hunter, hmm, that sounds better."
"…"
Constantine stopped smoking, clutching his chest and saying heartbrokenly, "Rip, you've forgotten when you invited me to join Legends…"
"Ah, did I? You must have misheard."
"In fact, Legends is full right now. When there's a new spot, I'll call you then?"
Rip, feeling the murderous gazes of his other teammates, quickly denied it.
Constantine melancholily lit a cigarette, his gaze sweeping over Sara, and he said darkly, "I believe that day will come very soon. I will prove I am right."
Prove? Prove what?!!
Don't you dare come near me!!!
Rip's face turned dark, and he staggered backward. Connecting this to Aaron's actions, he subconsciously felt that the implication was that a member of the team would not live much longer.
Is this the horror of bad luck?
He had the thrill of playing a game of 'Mafia'.
With a blink of an eye, another unlucky person would die.
So... who is this unlucky person?
Oh no, it seems to be me!
Rip realized that he had been in contact with Constantine the longest and communicated the most. If there was an unlucky person, it would definitely be him.
Rip looked at Aaron for help. "Great god, can you see the future? How many days do I have left to live?"
Aaron instantly understood Rip's thoughts and said, "Don't worry, as long as you don't frequently contact him in the future, if not a long life, you'll at least live longer than Savage."
"I understand."
Rip nodded with a solemn expression, simultaneously letting out a sigh of relief.
Hey, what do you understand?!
Constantine was utterly bewildered. He had reason to suspect these two were hinting at him.
Heaven knows, though he, Constantine, might be a bit of a scoundrel, he wasn't that sinful.
"Listen to me, I'm not that kind of person."
"We know."
Rip and the others all nodded.
Constantine took a step forward.
Leonard instinctively raised his Cold Gun and retreated three steps, while Mick gripped his flamethrower and backed away.
Hawkman and Hawkgirl flapped their wings and flew into the sky.
Jefferson and Martin had even clasped their hands, about to transform into Firestorm.
Sara, on the other hand, hid behind Aaron, standing shoulder to shoulder with Raven.
And Rip retreated to the very back of the crowd.
Constantine's heart sank.
It was over!
There was no place left for him in this world.
If it weren't for Trigon approaching, and him coincidentally having a grudge against the other party—who might just come looking for trouble after destroying this universe—he would want to leave.
Constantine took a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling clouds of smoke. He wasn't smoking a cigarette, he was smoking loneliness.
To think that he, so brilliant his entire life, was misunderstood by everyone—it was truly too sad.
Am I really that bad?
Constantine looked at Aaron with a mournful gaze. "Buddy, look what you've done?"
"Isn't it the truth?"
Aaron refused to take the blame, "Do you have the ability to call ten friends—real, living friends, not just souls."
"..."
Constantine paused, silently counted in his mind, then looked up. "Actually, I can explain."
Aaron said, "I understand. Regularly dealing with demons naturally makes you a target of their hatred, and by extension, they'll also target friends who have had too much contact with you."
"So..."
Aaron didn't finish, but everyone understood.
They could understand, but they weren't willing to become targeted friends.
"Constantine, you are a hero, but heroes are destined to be lonely. We support you, and we will silently cheer you on in our hearts." Rip waved his fist.
He still wanted to live a happy life with his wife and daughter, and he certainly couldn't let her become a widow.
Mick was even more blunt. "Constantine, for your safety and ours, please keep your distance from us. Don't let those demons misunderstand our relationship with you."
It wasn't that Rip and the others were heartless. It was mainly that they didn't have much friendship with Constantine, nor had they fought side by side.
They also genuinely approved of Constantine's actions, but... they wanted to live, and they weren't tired of living yet.
If Aaron hadn't made these gestures, even if they knew, they wouldn't have taken it too seriously, as it was an unconfirmed matter.
What they did was not absolutely safe either, no one knew when they might die.
But then again, who made a big shot like Aaron feel unlucky?
Their bodies were weak, they couldn't withstand such bad luck.
They were scared, truly scared.