John Constantine is a middle-aged man with a simple appearance, short and messy blonde hair, wearing a long open yellow windbreaker and a tie, tall and thin, with a haggard face and deep concave eyes, looking like a hangover

He sat on the sofa with a lazy and decadent attitude, holding an old book without a cover in his hand, and holding a Silk-Cut cigarette in his mouth, regardless of the difference between the host and the guest in the villa, and swung the ash into the glassware in a swagger.

William Harris was obviously unswerving as the owner of the villa, but for the sake of his daughter, he still held back his emotions and said calmly: "Mr. Constantine, this is Abigail, Jacqueline's friend, and he is also the attendor of the first spirit spirit ceremony."

"Oh, is that?" Constantine closed the book with a "snap", straightened up and stared at Abigail, and said, "Well, little girl, I have to admire your courage to be like a manic patient with a manic dysfunction who has been removed from the forehead, without any warning or awe, and use an unknown evil scripture to hold a messy shit ceremony to put yourself and your friends in crisis."

His sarcasm was obviously effective. Abby Gale's face turned red, but he still looked at Constantine and said calmly: "Mr. Constantine, I know it's my responsibility, but Jacqueline is still in a coma. Can you listen to me specifically talk about the situation of the spirit spirit ritual? This may help."

"...... Since you have received commission from your employer, you must naturally have a contract spirit, no matter how contempt I despise you."

Constantine slumped heavily on the sofa, waved her hand, and said, "I hope to hear it clearly."

By the time Abigail finished his narration, Constantine's brows were already frowning deeply, and the ashes with cigarettes in her mouth fell onto her tie without realizing it.

"As we all know, there are three major sources of Western mysticism: ancient Egypt, Hebrew, and ancient Rome."

Constantine said to herself: "The book in my hand is not a classic passed down from the Middle Ages. To be more precise, the author of this book is an antique work by a monk who belonged to the Golden Dawn Witchcraft Society in the 19th century."

The Harris and his wife, who were the upper elite, naturally looked confused, but Abigail, who had a little understanding of mysticism, changed his expression and explained: "The Golden Dawn Witchcraft Society is rumored to be an alchemy group, circulating in the European continent in the 189th century.

Its predecessor was the mysterious organization Rose Cross founded by the German Krison Rosankurus in 1484 AD. It has its secret doctrines and practice methods passed down from generation to generation. It is said that Newton, Goethe and Hegel are members of the Rose Cross."

"The Golden Dawn Witchcraft Society, established in London in 1888, played an extremely important role in improving the theoretical system of the Tarot card and occupies an important position in Western mysticism." Constantine curled her lips undeniably and said indifferently: "Of course this is just what people think. In addition to Tarot, the Golden Dawn also dabbles in alchemy, stargazing, divination and even semiotics, mathematics, herbalism, and of course, the most important, magic."

He raised the German scriptures in his hand and said, "The content on this seems to be a ritual to summon natural spirits, and use the power of spirits to find the souls of dead people. However, the ritual you held did not find the right time, and the position of the stars in the sky was wrong.

And according to you, the ceremony was held in Gotham Bay. Although I didn’t live in Gotham City for a long time, my experience in Liverpool told me that countless unclaimed rotten corpses must be buried under the sea of ​​a port city.”

Constantine looked at Abigail's pale face with a mocking mockingly and said with a smile: "What kind of natural spirit can you summon in this environment surrounded by resentment? You must know that the resentment spirits lured by the ritual have long been imprisoned in the dark bottom of the dark sea, full of resentment towards the living and greed for the living."

Jacqueline's mother, Grey Harris, finally couldn't help but ask sternly: "Greed for the body? What does this mean?"

"Please don't make ambiguity, Mrs. Harris," Constantine pressed the Sika cigarette with only the cigarette butt into the glassware, and plunged her hands comfortably behind her head, saying: "The more severe and lasting the torture a soul encounters, the stronger his power will be. The resentful spirits at the bottom of the sea are eager to return to the world, and the only way is to attach it to the living body."

He stretched out his index finger and pointed at Abigail, "The spiritual spirit ritual you held was not professional, so before the vengeful spirits invaded your body, the spiritual board was broken and the ceremony was interrupted.

Miss Jacqueline, because of her talent, held her own ceremony more in line with the rules of mysticism. The summoned spirits undoubtedly took advantage of the spirit spirit ceremony to occupy her body."

To facilitate explanation, he picked up a fruit tray on the coffee table and poured the cashew nuts inside into the garbage can, leaving only one left.

"This only cashew, you can think of it as Jacqueline's soul, and this small pot is her body."

After saying that, Constantine grabbed dozens of almonds, poured them into a small pot, separated them from the cashews, and gathered them alone.

"You can regard these almonds as the souls of the vengeful spirits. They cut off Jacqueline's connection with the body and are always ready to occupy them completely."

The lobby of the villa was silent, leaving only the gurgling sound of the swimming pool being automatically cleaned out outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

William Harris remained silent for a long time, hugged his wife who was on the verge of collapse, and said hoarse and lowly: "Then isn't my daughter anymore?"

"So far it's her own." Constantine spread her hands and said calmly: "On the one hand, those resentful spirits created an assumption that Miss Jacqueline thought it was a dream that made her sleep and prevented her from waking up again.

On the other hand, they are naturally not united and friendly and harmonious organizations, and they are constantly fighting for the permanent right to live in their bodies until the strongest soul is left behind."

He kept picking up smaller almonds from the fruit tray, leaving only the largest one. "When the last survivor was born, he would completely erase the traces of Jacqueline and replace your daughter."

The lonely cashew was pinched out by Constantine and threw it into her mouth. The crisp chewing sound seemed extremely harsh at this moment.

It took a long time before William Harris came to his senses, looked directly into Constantine's lazy eyes, and said in a deep voice: "Do you have a way to save her?"

“Yes, but it’s hard.”
Chapter completed!