Strange, disguised as Constantine, followed the real Constantine back to the base's residence. Most of the Constantines didn't come with the main force; they had their own ways of arriving, so this was also their first time at the base. Strange didn't need to worry about revealing himself by not knowing the situation here.
The base on Apocalypse Star isn't any better than the Asgard Base, neither is very suitable for human habitation. A room contains a hard bed, a table, and a chair, with a clock on the wall; that's all.
The Asgard Base at least has a mattress; here, the bed is completely metal. It seems Darkseid cannot comprehend the concept of human sleep, let alone why humans need to sleep on beds that are soft yet firm to rest well.
But thinking about it, there aren't many genuine humans in the Justice League. Strange suspected that the Batmen might not have rested since the fighting began; suddenly he didn't know who the real Superman was.
Strange chose to stay next to Constantine, and they intentionally picked the edge of the highest corridor. This floor only had the two of them; others would likely not choose to live here, making it a very quiet place.
Strange tidied up his room briefly, and in his mind, he asked, "Are you really going to approach Darkseid? Aren't you worried that if the negotiation fails, he'll sell you out to Batman?"
"He'd better sell me for a high price," Shiller's tone carried a hint of amusement, "because I'm worth a lot."
"This is no time for jokes," Strange said, "What makes you so sure you can impress Darkseid?"
"The key isn't what price I pay but what kind of reward I seek. If I want Darkseid to turn against Batman, the price would be too high; but if I just want shield technology, it's not that difficult."
Strange sighed lightly, "I always feel the Guardians of the Galaxy might be the breakthrough point; the Batmen might use them as a chance to take the initiative. I must find a way to get the message back."
"That's very risky," Shiller's voice carried a tone of warning, "Darkseid monitors everything within the Apocalypse Domain. You can monitor all energy changes on Earth through the magical defense network; he's only better at it. Any energy fluctuation cannot escape his watchful eye, and using magic will certainly expose you."
"Then I won't use magic," Strange said, "Constantine can do without magic; why can't I?"
"Instead of doing something you're not good at, why not leave it to someone who is?"
"What do you mean? You're not expecting me to rely on Constantine, are you?"
"His use of magic wouldn't raise suspicion, as long as you can find a way to persuade him; then you won't have to take the risk yourself."
"How's that possible? That guy doesn't look like someone who would betray," Strange said.
"Everyone has terms they can't refuse; it's about whether you can find their weak points. Besides, people were originally brought here by him; he's got the right to handle them, just whether he wants to bother with it."
"He..."
"Cough cough cough cough cough cough!!!"
A series of violent coughing sounds suddenly came from next door, startling Strange. He immediately said to Shiller, "What's happening over there? Why is he coughing so badly?"
"If you smoked 30 cigarettes a day, you'd cough worse than him."
"Hiss..." Strange couldn't help but grimace. As a surgeon and a germophobe, he couldn't stand anyone smoking. Thirty cigarettes a day, wouldn't that preserve him in smoke?
"Ugh... huff... huff..."
From next door came a very faint but deep retching sound, followed by gasping for air.
Strange paused slightly; he knew many smokers have reflexive dry heaves, but that subsequent wheezing was obviously unusual. Even as just a surgeon, he could tell the breath sounds were off, almost like that of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
"Is there something wrong with his lungs?" Strange muttered to himself. However, he's aware of his limitations in internal medicine, so he moved to the wall to listen more closely.
With a clatter, as if something had been hit, Strange rushed out of his room, heading towards Constantine's door. The door was unlocked; he turned the handle and dashed inside.
Having taken off his coat, wearing just a white shirt, Constantine was collapsed beside the table. Strange hurried over to help him up as Constantine broke into another violent coughing fit. Strange, quite flustered, didn't know what to do.
Constantine pointed shakily at his box; Strange went over and brought it to him. Constantine opened the box, rummaged around, and fumbled out a small bottle of medicine, which he poured into his mouth. Strange took the bottle to see it was some kind of cough syrup with analgesic components.
He intended to ask, but then Constantine, who was lying on the bed, stuck a cigarette in his mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he couldn't find his lighter, so he extended his hand towards Strange.
As non-smoker, Strange didn't realize what he wanted, and then Constantine, lying on the bed, turned his head and rolled his eyes.
Only at this point did Strange realize he might be asking for a lighter, and now it was his turn to roll his eyes.
"Buddy, maybe only half of your lung cells are still working, and you still want to smoke?"
"It's not that I want to," Constantine slowly turned his head back, looking at him with somewhat vacant eyes, "it's that I need to."
Strange let out a long sigh, giving up on persuading him, and instead asked, "You're in bad shape, right? Why not tell Batman?"
Constantine chuckled sarcastically, then shook his head and said, "Telling him won't help, it'll just lead to a bunch of anti-smoking educational slogans."
"So you're saying you want to cure your lung while still smoking?"
"Isn't that possible?"
As a doctor, Strange really wanted to punch him, but because he was a doctor, he ultimately held back and said, "Do you have any scans?"
Constantine gave him a look, forcing Strange to rummage through his box, and after searching for a long time, he found a tattered scan in the lid's lining.
He took it to the window, looked at it against the light, and when he saw the shadow covering most of the lung, his eyes widened instantly.
Although he hadn't looked at scans for a long time, even an ordinary person could tell how ridiculous this was. Let's put it this way: even if you poured a spicy Sindhi raita into his chest cavity, it wouldn't be worse than Constantine's current lung condition.
Strange covered his forehead and turned around, looking at Constantine with an expression as if he was observing some rare creature. He genuinely wanted to know how this guy managed to move freely with 80% of his lung covered in shadow—it's practically a medical miracle.
So he walked over to look at the cough syrup Constantine was drinking, opened the cap, and upon smelling a pungent odor, his eyebrows furrowed. He was sure the cough syrup wouldn't have such a heavy bloody smell.
Strange looked into the bottle and saw a thick, blood-red lump. He immediately felt an ominous premonition, while Constantine, lying on the bed half-dead, coughed twice and smiled, saying, "Looks like you're a newbie, but don't worry, you'll get to taste the flavor of demons soon enough."
Strange swallowed, even though he had dealt with quite a few demon gods, their kind were usually energy beings without physical bodies, but it seemed Constantine's universe wasn't like that.
Then he suddenly realized it and asked Constantine, "So the guy in your box, is it your medicine?"
"Sort of, but after catching him, I received an urgent order and haven't had time to handle it. Cough cough cough... A little girl's mother found me saying her daughter was possessed; I was going to check it out, but then Batman called me here."
"Can you cure him?" Strange asked Shiller in his mind.
"Maybe, but if I remake his lung, there will be a part of the gray mist on him. According to the rules of his universe, he can't go to Heaven."
"You mean he originally could go to Heaven?!"
"Perhaps not, but he really wants to go to Heaven. Or rather, he doesn't want to go to Hell."
"If you recreate part of his body, where will he go after he dies?"
"It's unclear, but it's more likely to completely dissipate. Neither God nor Satan can stop it."
Strange felt a headache coming on, realizing that the universe where Constantine was from was heavily influenced by religious factors—angels battling demons, that sort of thing.
In such a place, whether people can live well depends not only on their combat power but on the rules. If you don't conform to the rules, even if you have great skills, it's useless.
It's obvious that wanting to ascend to Heaven in such a place requires abiding by Catholic rules, meaning one cannot be sinful, commit suicide, and strictly speaking, the body must be original.
Using medical means for organ transplants is one thing, but if someone from the Outer God realm replaces a critical organ, it will undoubtedly have an immeasurable impact on his body and soul, making it impossible to ascend to Heaven, and even going to Hell would be unlikely.
If so, this lung cancer is truly difficult to treat. Wakanda has relevant technology, but Constantine's situation is too complex. With the ingredients in his body, even the most overbearing magic medicine would only lead him a few steps before getting caught in a vicious cycle.
"I can help you," Strange still said, "Or rather, let's make a trade—I help you, you help me."
"Sorry, no need. Tonight I can handle that thing and ensure nothing makes a noise," Constantine said, sitting up on the bed and looking at Strange, "Don't tell Batman about this, or I'll make you regret it."
"I'm not talking about dealing with the demon," Strange said, frowning. He pointed at Constantine's lung and said, "You're not planning to address this issue?"
"Do you have a solution?" Constantine raised an eyebrow, sizing up Strange before saying, "If you're not a rookie, then it's quite surprising you're staying so healthy. What's your secret recipe?"
Strange sighed deeply, stepping back a few steps and saying, "Can you set up an array to resist prying eyes?"
Constantine frowned but still took something out of the box—it looked like broken ceramic pieces, placing them in sequence in the room corners. Muffled whispers echoed, then everything went completely silent.
Gold light flowed in Strange's eyes, revealing his true appearance once Constantine's disguise was lifted.
"Let me reintroduce myself, I'm Stephen Strange, the Supreme Mage of this universe, and also, the best surgeon across the Multiverse."