"Which mont in ti are we going back to?" Constantine asked, looking at the Teleportation Portal created by Doctor Destiny, and then turning to Shiller, "If our adversary is The Flash, should we travel to before he beca a vampire? I heard he was a good person."
"Moreover..." Constantine hesitated, "I must warn you, Divine Speed is sothing even Magicians can't understand. If we are to confront The Flash head-on, our chances of success are not great."
"We won't be facing him head-on," Shiller said. "The one inside Zan, I'll put enough pressure on him."
"You an..."
"What's the most effective way to deal with an enemy through ti travel?"
Constantine imdiately understood. He said, "Of course, it's to go back to his infancy and punch him directly. I get it, another you will tell The Flash that we'll also travel through ti, then he'll think that we might go back to his helpless infant stage."
"To prevent his past self from being killed, he must travel back instantly to protect that self, ensuring he won't encounter us in the other tilines. It's a tactic to lure the tiger away from its mountain," Shiller added.
"Exactly," Shiller nodded and said, "anwhile, we will find the real person who can deal with him."
"The Flash himself before he beca a vampire?"
"Exactly," Shiller revealed his plan, "We currently can't make contact with the Justice League, but there are only a few possibilities. If the traitor is The Flash, we'll use his past self to fight him. If the betrayer is soone else, then The Flash of the past and the modern Flash together can handle anyone."
Constantine nodded, indicating he understood. Then he asked, "Did you co to just to find a way to ti travel?"
"Coming to you is the most efficient way."
"You might as well say you think I'm easy to bully."
"I'm just more familiar with you."
"Done," Doctor Destiny said, handing over a pocket watch that radiated golden light. Constantine took it, looked it over, and handed it to Shiller, who noticed its complex face featuring years, dates, and tis.
"Set it to the ti you wish to go, step through the Teleportation Portal, and rember to return before the energy runs out. Make sure to set the correct ti when coming back."
Shiller pocketed the watch and nodded to Doctor Destiny, then turned to Constantine, "Any chance of bringing Zatanna along?"
"No physical body," Constantine said. "Maintaining a spiritual form consus a lot of energy, and she can't use magic either. Why bring her?"
"Do you really think we can simply find The Flash and persuade him to co back with us?"
"Isn't that the case?"
"Many things have already begun before they start. A man as fast as him being bitten by a vampire might be because he's foolish, but it's more likely soone has preditated it."
"True, he might have been targeted from the start... Maybe as early as his birth. Once we try to find him, we will alarm those who have been watching him, which can be very troubleso."
Constantine pondered before saying, "I'll grab so equipnt, but I don't guarantee it'll handle all enemies."
"You only need to take care of the magical part," Shiller said, "Leave the rest to ."
Constantine had no better ideas. Doctor Destiny had to stabilize the portal here and also help guard the Mysterious House. The other mbers of Justice League Dark were scattered around the world, and Zatanna's condition wasn't good. They had no more help.
Soon, Constantine returned, wearing a long coat with sagged pockets, not visibly carrying anything. The magical brilliance in his eyes soon faded.
But Shiller knew that Constantine's style of combat wasn't the straightforward kind of a warrior. His use of magic was extrely subtle, more like a cheater than Zatanna. No one knew what truly could hurt him.
Before passing through the Teleportation Portal, Shiller asked, "Did you send Arkham Knight and Doctor Strange to the Doomsday Army Base because you wanted them to kill that monster and then revive it?"
"That would be the best scenario," Constantine said. "If we could really own an Undead vampire monster, I'll show Mary."
"How did she offend you?"
"You think I voluntarily conducted research for her?"
"I thought you'd be interested."
"Yes, but she stiffed on the bill."
The Midwest of Arica is always sunny, with the vast plains of the Midwest and the bright and harsh sunlight of the West. Even though it's autumn, the heat wave hasn't quickly subsided, and it's still sowhat stifling in the afternoon.
The bell on the door rang as the man in the coat hurried into the coffee shop and ordered a big cup of iced coffee. After gulping it down, he sighed in relief.
The coffee shop employee smiled and said, "Just arrived, sir? It's cooled down a lot now."
"This damn weather," he said with a heavy British accent.
"Did you co from England? Then I think you would like our new beans, Europeans love them," the employee imdiately said.
"That's great, but make it a hot one for . I've got a friend who's a typical old European antique..."
"I understand, French or Belgian, guaranteed to satisfy them," the employee said.
Shiller, now in a suit, walked in and leaned on the bar where Constantine was sitting, "I suspect you ca here just to buy clothes."
"You have a valid point," Shiller said as he sat down on a nearby chair. "But don't forget how my clothes were ruined."
Constantine touched his nose and fell silent. The hot coffee was quickly served, and Shiller, feigning curiosity, asked, "I heard that every city in Arica has a superhero. So, who's the hero of Central City?"
"Oh, you misunderstood. Not every city has one, but our city just happens to have one. Have you heard of The Flash? The fastest man in the world, and he's a regular here too. It's just too bad that he's always in and out in a hurry."
Constantine leaned in and said, "I've heard of him. His suit is red, right? I think his fashion sense is much better than, you know, Batman's."
"I think so too. People in Central City think he's better than Superman because he's always quick to act and never causes traffic jams while saving people."
"He's a fine lad," an old man, leisurely sipping his coffee, chid in. "But this place isn't nearly as bad as those cities on the East Coast. Central City has one of the lowest cri rates in all of Arica."
"I can see that," Constantine said, putting down his cup. "Since coming out of the airport, I've passed by at least ten people, but my wallet is still here."
The old man and the waitress both laughed as Constantine suddenly asked mysteriously, "So who really is The Flash? Is he the long-distance runner that the papers speculate about?"
The old man waved his hand dismissively, "We don't indulge in guessing the identities of heroes here. If he wants to stay masked, he must have his reasons. As long as he's doing good, there's no need to worry about who he is."
"Fair point," Constantine said.
They quickly finished their coffee and left the coffee shop. Constantine sighed, "The folks here are tight-lipped, definitely a sharp contrast to the East Coast. If it were tropolis, folks would gossip with you for two hours."
"People in the Midwest are indeed more earnest," Shiller said. "I just didn't expect that you wouldn't know The Flash's real identity."
"I know he's called Barry Allen," Constantine said. "From Central City, an overly optimistic and cheerful fellow."
"But you don't know what profession he's in."
"I don't even know what Superman does for a living; I don't care about that," Constantine shrugged. "All I know is that each of them has their own flair, with Batman being the most fiery."
Constantine and Shiller wandered around downtown, which wasn't very large—just a concentrated area. They found an outdoor restaurant and sat down.
"If the cri rate were higher, we might have seen The Flash by now. But it seems no one is planning to trouble him today."
"Is that so?" Shiller said noncommittally. "Is your wallet still with you?"
"Of course... huh??"
Constantine froze as he patted the pocket of his trench coat. Where was his wallet?
He quickly rubbed his hands together, sensing an opportunity. His wallet didn't actually hold any money or identification cards, just so paper runes imbued with his magical energy, which he could track to locate the thief. It was essentially a sting operation.
Constantine stood up and pointed in a direction. The two quickly headed toward the other side of downtown, where the buildings beca sparser and the police patrols fewer—a sign of entering a slum area.
Central City didn't have real slums, just so fringe communities. The overall cityscape was still quite decent, but regardless, the city still had its dark sides.
They crossed a street and soon noticed a stark difference in the atmosphere from the city center. Most people were walking briskly with their hands in their pockets, and there were hardly any cars parked along the streets.
This is the right place, Constantine thought, quickly following the energy to a house.
"You go and get the wallet back. I'll take a walk around," Shiller suddenly said.
"Uh, aren't we supposed to teach this thief a lesson?"
"Theft is a petty cri. I have a feeling there might be so good ingredients around here," said Shiller.
Watching Shiller walk away, Constantine shook his head. His instincts told him to leave whatever Shiller was planning to do alone.
Shiller road the neighborhood and eventually stopped by the back wall of a house's yard. He thought he had found his target.
The security in the cities of the Midwest was indeed better than those along the coastlines. Central City was famously serene, unlike those other cities frequently depicted in comics facing nurous disasters.
But if you think about it, with such a large population, there will always be a few born psychopaths, and since the superheroes guarding this city can hardly deal with such people, their survival is much better off here than in places like Gotham or tropolis.
Missing person cases are the most common in Arica.
Logically, Arica is a paradise in the minds of many, with countless people flocking here every year from their ho countries to this most advanced and powerful nation.
So countries are too far to co easily, but it's simpler for other countries in the Aricas. Every year, countless xicans cross the border into Arica.
But you never hear about significant population increases in Arica. Logically, with so many immigrants over the years, you'd expect at least several tens of millions, not to ntion a hundred million, yet Arica's population remains unchanged.
Where did all these additional people go?
The answer is that they disappeared into thin air.
Arica's cri rate does not account for missing persons, especially in big cities. Even if it's a legally adult Arican citizen who disappears, it takes a while for a case to be filed, let alone those undocunted residents.
While so do disappear voluntarily due to bankruptcy or commit suicide outside the police's jurisdiction, the vast majority are passively involved in misfortunes.
And, most of those misfortunes co from the foxes hidden among the chickens; Arica's serial killer cases are far more nurous than what's officially reported.
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