Constantine was smoking a cigarette.

His face was haggard and lonely, his eyes were deep and concave, and he sucked clouds and mist. As he breathed, the flames of the "Sika" cigarettes continued to approach, and thin and narrow ashes accumulated.

If placed elsewhere, for example, the dark and humid back alleys of the city, the dim and dull and cramped basement, Constantine, who was smoking a cigarette, could definitely form a dark comic.

But in this narrow corridor where everyone is wearing suits and ties, shoulder to shoulder, and endless streams, Constantine's existence seems extremely abrupt.

"Sorry, Mr. Constantine, smoking is not allowed here."

Amanda Waller, holding the document, stood in front of Constantine, and said in a cold tone with expressionless face: "If you don't mind, please extinguish the cigarette."

Constantine didn't say anything, but squinted her eyes, swept across the black woman, and glanced at the corridor.

Yes, this is the white house in Washington, the heart of American power.

Seeing Constantine like this, Amanda did not insist, but just said indifferently with a stern face: "Come with me."

She took Constantine to turn left and right, and walked around the corridors, and finally arrived at a reception room.

This reception room is also known as the Green Room, which is ranked alongside the State Banquet Room, the Red Room, the Blue Room and the East Room as the five main rooms on the National Floor of the White House.

The green room is small in scale, and the color and decorative style is mainly green, which looks fresh and refreshing, and pleasant.

Constantine walked into the room with a thorn, sat in the soft sofa, and casually pressed the smoked Sika cigarette into the ashtray. She took out the cigarette box under Amanda Waller's cold eyes and said indifferently,

"This green room was used by Jefferson as a private dining room and was used by Monroe to play cards. During the Civil War, President Lincoln's 11-year-old third son William died of pneumonia - Mrs. Lincoln has never stepped into it since then."

Amanda Waller raised his eyebrows and asked indifferently: "Have you ever cared about the history of this house?"

"That's right."

Constantine shrugged and jumped out of her windbreaker's pocket, a wrinkled "White House Tour Manual" jumped out, "You also know that I am a warlock and can see things that ordinary people cannot see.

In fact, William Wallace Lincoln did not leave after his death. His soul was placed in this room and refused to be liberated.

If you are willing to give out hundreds of thousands of dollars, I am willing to spend my hard work to build an exorcist array and let him return to God’s arms.”

Faced with Constantine's nonsense, Amanda Waller only said one word, "Haha."

"If you don't believe it, forget it."

Constantine rolled her eyes, "After Lincoln's murder, William's body was taken out and placed in his father's hearse, traveling across the country - do you know how much pain it would be for the necromancer?

Moreover, President Lincoln's funeral cost $7,000 at that time, while William's body relocation cost only $10 - if it is placed in Europe in the Middle Ages, your behavior of ignoring the prince will be hanged."

After saying that, the warlock waved his arms exaggeratedly, and shouted in a tone of reading: "No, William, you are dead, go, go, don't bother me!"

Amanda's eyes twitched, and she was too lazy to pay attention to Constantine who was pretending to be crazy and stupid, and planned to turn around and leave.

"Don't leave."

Constantine quickly recovered, lit another cigarette, shook her legs and asked with a smile: "Where is the President?"

“He is doing national televised speeches.”

"Oh?" Constantine raised her eyebrows, moved her butt, and changed herself to a more comfortable position. "Is such an unofficial reception session the sincerity of Washington?"

Amanda Waller smiled and said casually: "Faced with such a great disaster, the entire American state machine has been mobilized, and countless things are waiting to be resolved.

You are a superpower who is a British gangster. Can't you wait a little longer?"

"Of course I don't care whether I'll wait,"

Constantine spread her hands and said casually: "But I hope that the think tank in the next room can quickly come up with an attitude to face a representative sent by the school city to negotiate."

The smile on Amanda's face was a little frozen, and she almost instantly confirmed that she hated John Constantine.

The British man's criminal record in the United States is extremely brilliant. If it weren't for the other party's identity as the city representative of the school, he would have been shot dead by security guards on the White House lawn before he could step into the White House gate.

What's more, according to reliable tips, Constantine also disappeared in Gotham before the suicide squad was destroyed. Is there any connection between the two...

Amanda Waller became increasingly unhappy. The woman from an intelligence agency did not hide her emotions at all, or she was not afraid that Constantine would notice her bad emotions.

He and Constantine are to some extent considered to be the same type of people, selfish, sinister, and like to cheat people.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I just like your eyes that you can't stand me and can't get rid of me."

Constantine crossed her legs proudly, put her boots on the small coffee table, and scraped the mud on the soles of the boots on the delicate gold edges on the edge of the coffee table.

"Don't be too proud, warlock."

Amanda Waller sneered, and his sharp gaze like a falcon tried to cut off the flesh on Constantine's face, "As far as we know, enemies who want to collect your debts are everywhere,

Even inside and outside Washington, there are seven or eight terrorists with extraordinary abilities, who come specifically to kill you."

“Yo?”

Constantine grinned, "Sorry, I don't know that the extraordinary institutions in the United States would be so kind and willing to provide me with such information."

"We just don't want you to have something wrong with the land of Washington, that's all."

Amanda Waller shook his head and said sarcastically: "After all, no one wants other people's guardian dogs to die in front of their own door."

Constantine accepted the other party's sarcasm with a calm expression, rubbed her itchy calves with the edge of the coffee table, and said lazyly: "How long will the president be done?"

"Half an hour later." Amanda Vulayan left long, "you just wait here."

Crack, the door closed, and Constantine was the only one left in the green room.

“It’s so boring…”

He smoked a cigarette and smiled at the smoke, saying, "Yes, William, I am indeed a warlock, I can see you..."

———

Looking down from the space station on the low-Earth orbit, the North American continent under the night is quiet and peaceful, and the meteorological clouds are spinning like whirlpools. Lights from cities and rural areas gather into rivers, either sparse or dense, illuminating the entire America.

It was early morning, but most of the residents of this country were still awake, and ordinary people from thousands of households were staying at home, staying in front of the TV, watching reports on the disaster in New York.

The electromagnetic pulses created by Kabbala's tree of life finally dissipated, and the helicopter was able to fly into it, truthfully spreading the tragic situation of New York City to hundreds of millions of residents.

The giant palms of bacteria that were holding up the sky, the collapsed tall buildings and the thick long smoke columns that soared into the sky, made these people who thought they were living in peaceful times silent.

The wife clenched her husband's sweaty hands; the child stared at the screen, the peers buried under the ruins; the old man lowered his head and let the light of the TV hit his face, mottled like an oil painting.

Fortunately, the heart-wrenching scene was finally interrupted, and a Latino middle-aged man's face appeared on the screen.

That is the current Bald Eagle boss, who is giving a national televised speech.

"Good evening, today, our fellow countrymen, our lives and our cherished freedoms, have been attacked by a series of premeditated and inhumane terrorists."

The boss sat in the iconic oval office with floor-to-ceiling windows with beige curtains floating in the background.

His face was solemn, and the professional makeup artist deliberately drew some shadows beside his cheekbones, making him look more haggard and solemn.

"...This large-scale terrorist attack was to intimidate our country and put America in chaos. But they failed, our country is very powerful..."

His words were accurately conveyed to thousands of households in America, and even across thousands of mountains and rivers, the unprotected Pacific Ocean, and passed to other countries.

Think tanks around the world have been mobilized. The most elite think tanks collect information through various means, assess the disaster situation in New York, assess the reconstruction prices, assess the opinions of the United States and the world, assess the sources of disasters, and assess the political, economic, cultural and military strategies adopted after the damage to the United States...

Of course, for civilians from other countries, terrorist attacks in New York are not necessarily disasters.

Perhaps a small number of other people with "unlimited love" will sympathize with the New York people who lost their lives in the attack.

However, in more countries in the non-European and American cultural circles, their people basically enjoy this good show with a joke mentality.

"... Terrorist attacks can destroy some of our tall buildings, but they cannot shake the firm will of the American people."

The Bald Eagle boss had a solemn face, and his expression was so deep and solemn that it completely surpassed the Oscar winners.

"Tonight, I ask you to pray together for all those who are in disaster, for those children whose world is ruthlessly shattered, for all those who are threatened with safety."

He frowned, his lips tightly pursed, and his fingers had a slight tremor, "I pray that they will get greater strength and comfort from Psalm 23, as the Psalm says..."

Constantine, who was staying in the green room, had a deep look, and he could see all the souls who died in this house.

Among those miserable green souls are William Henry Harrison, James K. Polk, Zachary Taylor, and countless White House bureaucrats who are unknown in history books.

These souls who once dominated America to a greater or lesser extent were trapped here and could not escape. They could only stare at the warlock Constantine, who could give them liberation with sad and desperate eyes.

In the sky, John Constantine smiled and read the line from Psalm 23, "Even if I walk through the valley shrouded in death, I am not afraid, because you are with me..."
Chapter completed!