The strange whirlwind swept past.
Nothing happened.
Just an ordinary student ID card disappeared. However, this was enough to send a shiver down one's spine, especially for people who dealt with supernatural events daily, making it truly terrifying upon reflection.
"?????"
Charles was instantly startled, looking frantically from side to side in an instinctive reaction, but he couldn't find anything. He turned to Constantine, suspicion in his eyes.
"What was that?"
Charles knew for certain that the sudden wind was absolutely not a natural phenomenon.
Gulp!
Constantine stared blankly at his empty hand, his eyes shaking violently for a few moments. He licked his lips, as if savoring the sensation he had just felt.
"That was..."
Constantine clearly realized that someone had snatched the card from his hand.
Such incredible speed!
Was it a special person?
Or a demon from hell?
No, some of his defenses hadn't been triggered, so it was likely not an attack with malicious intent... Thinking this, he seemed to realize something.
"Wait! That little brat!"
Constantine suddenly ran toward the second-floor window. He first scanned the farmhouse grass outside but saw nothing. Then, thoroughly confused, he looked up at the sky.
He had only intended to check the weather.
However.
He actually stumbled upon a great piece of luck.
Behold.
The dark clouds had slowly dispersed following the evil spirit's confinement.
In the golden, brilliant sky.
Constantine could vaguely make out a figure, faintly visible, looking down from a high vantage point, overlooking a certain direction—the direction in which the taxi had crookedly disappeared.
He was instantly shocked, his pupils contracting slightly.
"Charles."
Constantine swallowed.
His voice was serious.
"What?"
Charles was still clearly bewildered, continuously searching the wooden house for any suspicious entity.
"You are finished."
Constantine turned back to look at his friend, then stretched his neck out again to glance at the sky. After feeling a warning gaze, he immediately pulled his neck back and retreated into the house.
"What do you mean? My car can't be found?" Charles felt Constantine was completely nonsensical. He hadn't found any hiding evil spirits or supernatural life in the wooden house.
"Forget your car. You've brought a huge problem upon yourself." Constantine wiped the large beads of sweat on his forehead. He couldn't even manage to pretend to be composed anymore.
"Huh?"
Charles was stunned by the statement.
"That kid has someone looking out for him. I think he is definitely going to complain about you." Constantine swallowed, as if he had already figured out the temperament of the strange middle school student.
"He's covered by an angel?"
Charles let his imagination run wild.
"Much scarier than that."
Constantine's head paused, wanting to peer out the window again to confirm what he saw, but he ultimately chose to fully retract his body into the wooden house.
"What in the world are you talking about?" Charles felt Constantine was like a riddler who needed to be spanked, but that didn't stop him from being greatly alarmed by the implication.
Scarier than an angel?
What kind of background could that be!
Was he covered by God?
"Wait, why is it only I who is going to have bad luck? Why aren't we both going to have bad luck?" Charles caught the key point. He once again felt Constantine's shamelessness.
The speed with which he distanced himself was too fast!
He stared speechlessly at his old friend, but Constantine's shameless conduct continued.
"I'm not the one who kidnapped a minor. I'm just a passerby in Metropolis. Tomorrow... no, I'll be leaving Metropolis tonight."
With that.
Constantine began packing his things, even forgetting about burying the poor lady in the house. Honestly, he truly fled very quickly.
After sticking a talisman on a large door inside the room, Constantine stepped through and vanished without a trace. Charles, completely flabbergasted, still hadn't recovered from his shock.
"My car..."
He was still agonizing over his most valuable asset.
As for Constantine's actions, Charles merely felt accustomed to them. Just familiar "betrayal." After dying a few times, one wouldn't feel so much anger towards Constantine anymore.
...
The sunset sank into the city skyline, dyeing the streets a dark orange hue. The taxi Ian was driving pulled over to the side of the road. He hadn't reached his destination; he had encountered a traffic cop.
"Please step out of the car and present your driver's license." The traffic cop's eyes held professional vigilance, and his expression grew serious, especially upon seeing Ian, who looked impossibly young, in the driver's seat.
There was no helping it.
The taxi looked like it had just suffered an intense road rage incident, and Ian looked too young to be eligible for a driver's license.
"It's right here."
Ian pushed open the warped car door with effort. After getting out, he calmly pulled out a worn-edged card holder. He leisurely brandished the ID in front of the traffic cop a few times.
The speed was quick.
It was dazzling.
He then immediately put the ID back into his pocket.
"Hand it to me directly. I didn't see it clearly."
The traffic cop frowned, his gaze highly suspicious.
"Officer, you must not like doing eye exercises in the morning." Ian pulled the ID out again and handed it directly to the traffic cop, who took it and inspected it closely.
The information on it was, of course, fake.
However.
It was convincing enough to be mistaken for the real thing—and why? It wasn't because Ian specialized in making fake IDs, but because he had "picked up" this little item from Constantine before leaving the wooden house.
A psychic card.
It could make others see the appropriate corresponding document. It was a very practical little magical tool—Ian had actually noticed Constantine sneaking his student ID.
But he didn't make a fuss. Instead, he honored the law of conservation of matter, enhancing Lavoisier's credibility by choosing to let a portion of Constantine's possessions flow toward himself as well.
"You're nineteen?"
The traffic cop seriously checked the ID for several minutes but didn't find any issues with the document. However, he remained suspicious of Ian. In his opinion, the boy in front of him was at most fifteen or sixteen years old, no older.
"Yes, everyone says I have a baby face."
Ian truly didn't blink when telling a lie.
"Hmm?"
The traffic cop remained noncommittal, his gaze alternating repeatedly between the ID in his hand and Ian's face. Finally, he returned the ID to Ian with a slightly strange expression.
"What happened to this car?"
The traffic cop looked at the taxi. The front end was simply horrific.
"Well..."
Ian was still trying to think of an excuse, but unexpectedly, the stopped car slowly started sliding forward, gaining speed, and then bang, it crashed directly into a fire hydrant.
"Yeah, that's how it got damaged."
It truly seemed like heaven was helping him find an excuse, at least that's what Ian thought.