Although he already had a lead on the whereabouts of the dream stone, Dane was not in a hurry to find it.
Instead, he first found Constantine.
Constantine was very happy to see Dane return, because it meant that Lucifer would no longer come to bother him.
Although he never lacked trouble behind him, it was good to have one less thing to worry about.
But Dane told him that the matter was not over yet: "To save your soul, I made a deal with Lucifer."
Dane's expression was solemn, as if it were truly the case. Constantine was affected and couldn't help but tense up.
"What deal?"
Dane habitually bluffed: "He asked me to help him find three ancient lost artifacts in exchange for your soul."
Constantine was a little suspicious upon hearing this. It wasn't that he doubted Dane was lying; he just felt that his soul was probably barely worth one artifact, let alone three?
Could Boss have been fooled by that Fallen Angel too?
Dane seemed to have seen through his thoughts. He sighed: "I know this request is too much, but Lucifer is too strong, and I have no choice..."
Constantine nodded; he could understand that feeling.
Dane seized the opportunity and said: "But I promised you that I would protect your soul, so I still agreed to him, and I have already found the whereabouts of the first artifact."
"However, this artifact has something to do with you, so you must cooperate with me."
Constantine had to admit that he was genuinely touched at this moment, so he readily agreed.
"No problem. Since this matter started because of me, I will naturally cooperate with you fully."
"Good. I heard a long time ago that you obtained a magic-infused pouch 783. Is that true?"
Constantine scratched his head, thought carefully for a moment, and said uncertainly:
"It seems like there was such a thing, but that was a long time ago, and I'm not sure if it's still around."
As a well-known magic user, Constantine occasionally bought old goods, which were usually small magical trinkets.
"Why don't we go back to London and take a look? I have a lot of old things stored at my old place."
Dane nodded, "How do we get there?"
Constantine gave him coordinates, and without Dane making any visible movement, the surrounding light and shadow suddenly shifted.
When he looked around again, he found that they had returned to a dilapidated old house.
He glanced at Dane and asked with some confusion: "Are your magic skills getting more powerful recently?"
Dane calmly replied: "Nothing much, just practice."
Constantine turned and walked into the old house, with Dane following behind.
He led Dane to the storage room, but he wasn't looking for the pouch; he was looking for his memoirs.
Dane had never known he had this habit before.
Constantine explained: "This is to prevent someone from using a spell like Obliviate on me; I still have a way to retrieve my memories."
Dane nodded in understanding, as Constantine had many enemies after all.
He searched for a long time and finally found information about the "pouch" in one of his memoirs.
The information in the memoir indicated that the pouch had most likely been taken by his ex-girlfriend, Rachel.
Rachel was an addict, and to raise money for drugs, one day she cleared out all of Constantine's valuables, including that pouch.
"Do you still remember where she lives?"
Constantine shook his head at the question: "It's been several years. People like her don't stay in one place for too long."
"Then tell me her real name, identity information, and so on."
Constantine was very cooperative, and his memoir detailed a lot of Rachel's information.
Dane used a tracking spell to find her address and teleported there with Constantine.
As soon as they arrived at Rachel's residence, they felt that something was amiss. The house seemed to have been uninhabited for a long time.
But the tracking spell's instructions wouldn't be wrong, so they stepped into this "haunted house."
As soon as they entered, they saw several human bodies, indistinguishable between dead or alive, slumped on the ground.
Constantine became more vigilant. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit it.
The flame was brighter than a lamp, instantly illuminating the room.
He saw the appearance of the people on the ground: their expressions were dull, drool dripped, but they seemed to be alive.
He instinctively wanted to step forward, but with a "splat," he stepped on something.
The scene before him changed dramatically; the house disappeared, and his location became the sky. He looked up, only to find that above him was the earth!
A strong sense of weightlessness instantly robbed him of all ability to act. He suddenly forgot his purpose, why he was here.
He tried to recall what he could do. He vaguely remembered that he was with other people, but who were they?
Damn it! He couldn't remember.
At this moment, Constantine had forgotten that he was a magic user, and even forgotten who he was.
His consciousness, like his body, seemed to be emptied by the weightlessness, as if he was about to sink into oblivion.
But just then, a strong, powerful hand pulled him back to reality.
Constantine suddenly awoke. Only then did he see that he was still standing at the entrance of the "haunted house," not having moved an inch, his back drenched in cold sweat.
"Just now... just now that was..." Constantine was still somewhat shaken.
Weightlessness was nothing, but the feeling of instantly forgetting oneself was terrifying.
"It was a dream, John." Dane calmly explained: "You just fell into a dream. Be careful, dreams are everywhere here."
Dane's hand was imbued with the power of dreams he had taken from Glaub. He reached out and grabbed something in the void, then tore it forcefully.
Like a transparent veil being torn apart, the illusion was ripped away, revealing the truth of reality.
It was then that Constantine suddenly realized that all around him were flesh walls made of tissues and chunks of meat.
He suppressed his nausea and picked up a bit of the flesh, finding some glittering sand on it.
Only then did he understand that someone had already merged with the contents of that pouch. Although he was still alive, he was probably not much different from being dead.
Immediately after, a grotesque, ugly face emerged from the flesh wall. It could even speak: "Who... are you?"
Without a word, Dane unleashed a divine lightning bolt that pierced through its body, striking the strange face directly, instantly turning it into a pulp of flesh.
But not long after, the ugly face reappeared on the wall: "It's no use, you cannot kill a dream."
"Dream" is actually an illusory concept; you cannot kill a concept.
But dream sand is actually a part of Morpheus's power. Although it cannot be killed, it can be plundered.
Seeing that lightning couldn't kill it, Dane didn't persist. He once again took out the Wizard Scepter.
But upon seeing the Scepter, the dream sand's face changed dramatically. It shrieked: "You cannot take my power, it will kill me!"
Dane looked at it in surprise. Wasn't that a good thing?
The dream sand understood his meaning and became even more terrified. It began to plead: "No, please don't do this. I swear I will be loyal to you. Please spare me!"
"Without me, the power of dreams will not be complete; they will return to Master's body."
Dane's movements stopped. He remembered that there seemed to be such a thing.
In the original work, Dr. Destiny destroyed the dream stone in front of Morpheus, but the power of the dream stone instantly returned to the Dream Lord.
He wasn't too sure if the Scepter could contend with Morpheus, feeling a bit uncertain.
The dream sand, seeing a glimmer of hope, pressed on: "I swear, I can give you my soul, as long as you spare my life..."
A glint flashed in Dane's eyes. He pressed: "Are you serious? You are willing to offer your soul?"
"Yes!" The dream sand nodded frantically.
But it also had its own little scheme. Its soul was very strong, and ordinary contractual magic could not completely dominate it.
Moreover, it was, after all, Morpheus's possession, and mere mortals could not possibly control it.
Dane smiled and used contractual magic, asking it again: "Are you sure you want to give me your soul, to be disposed of as I wish?"
The dream sand didn't realize the danger that was about to come. It agreed without hesitation.
The magic took effect, and the ownership of the dream sand's soul belonged to Dane.
Dane revealed his true intentions, grabbing with a large hand and tearing its soul from the flesh wall.
The dream sand was utterly shocked. It began to struggle frantically.
"No! This is impossible! Who exactly are you?"
Light shone on Dane's hand, enveloping the soul he held.
Feeling the power coming from all directions, the dream sand finally understood.
"Death, it's the power of Death! Ah--!"
Its heart was filled with grief and indignation. If you had a connection with "Death," why the hell didn't you say so earlier!
Wouldn't it have been enough if I cooperated with everything you wanted? Did you have to kill me?
But Dane turned a deaf ear. Just as the dream sand thought, this was Morpheus's power, so if he wanted to, he could take it back at any time.
But what if the dream sand's soul no longer belonged to him? What if the dream sand's soul recognized another person as its Master?
Then Morpheus would not be able to retrieve the dream sand merely by words.
And what Dane was doing now was to mold the soul in his hand into a puppet completely obedient to him, a tool without thought.
Just be an artificial retard for dream sand!
-------------------------
Thank you for following my story. If you want to read it first, please visit my Patreon — there are about 30-40 chapters waiting there. Your support really motivates me to continue to release more stories!
👉[patreon.com/TripleCrown07]