Barry's expression became even more peculiar upon hearing it was London. As a member of the Justice League, he certainly knew what kind of place that was.
He let out a long 'mm—ah' sound, as if encountering difficulty in a restroom, before finally taking Su Ming along for a run.
Su Ming felt Barry's steps slow down significantly, as if hesitant. Even the sand kicked up behind them wasn't as high. He had to reassure Barry first.
"Relax, you're my partner. If that guy tries to screw us over, I'll send a bullet into his 'little buddy'."
"Uh, no, better not... We're on the same side, and I don't want any bloodshed." Barry came to his senses and started to sprint.
Laughter hissed out from under Deathstroke's mask: "Of course, it's just a joke. I wouldn't be the first to think of it, and he has definitely invented spells to counter those ideas—like a 'little buddy' protection spell, or an 'egg egg iron armor protection spell'."
"Do you know what happens if you get side stitches running with Divine Speed? Don't joke when I'm sprinting!" Barry's face, under the hood, was turning blue as he struggled to hold back laughter.
Su Ming quickly raised his hands in surrender, fearing that if Barry laughed and stumbled, he'd get thrown into the Divine Speed.
"Alright, I won't joke while you're running in the future, but I have a half-brother who might get along well with you."
"???
.........
United Kingdom, London.
This city, which once symbolized capitalism, now represents the twilight of an empire. Currently, it's the dead of night, and although it's quiet everywhere, there's little human presence.
The point of Barbatos's invasion was in the United States, so separated by the Atlantic Ocean, the United Kingdom was still temporarily safe. However, everyone had seen the devastation from across the ocean on their TVs or the internet. After the initial panic and refugee wave, the remaining Londoners chose to stay at home to perhaps live out the rest of their lives.
One wonders if it would be like when the Titanic sank, with seasoned gentlemen dying in their immaculate suits to the sound of classical music.
The streets weren't in disarray; Su Ming could still see a police officer on duty at a distant intersection, but judging by his dejected look, his mood wasn't the best.
The two stood by an old street with no lights around. Barry, although aware of whom Su Ming was looking for, didn't know the exact location. However, Su Ming had an idea; he immediately started towards a red phone booth bathed in streetlamp light by the roadside.
The warm yellow light fell like hot water, forming a large circle on the ground, with the phone booth in its center, particularly conspicuous.
Its sides were lined with grid windows, with the glass divided into hundreds of tiny squares by wooden mullions. On the lightbox reading 'telephone' at the top, there was even a small crown-shaped cutout.
Su Ming strode over, pulled open the door, and went inside the cramped space filled with a mix of urine and cigarette odors. He picked up the phone book, scrolling through its information in search of keywords like 'Dark Arts Master' and 'Demon Exorcist Master'.
In both the UK and the US, public phone books were also known as Yellow Pages, containing not just common phone numbers but also some unattractive small ads, similar to utility poles in the Celestial Dynasty.
As a Mage, Constantine didn't like advertising online due to its immunity to magic.
Unlike on these simple Yellow Pages, where with just a small spell placed in a printing house at midnight, his ads could appear free in tens of thousands of phone booths throughout London. Many companies and enterprises received Yellow Pages for free.
Indeed, Constantine was in dire need of money. Although he worked on a commission basis, his days were far poorer than Deathstroke's, who served high-income clients, while his clientele often consisted of those left with no choice by dark forces.
"Ahem, a little Divine Speed, please." Su Ming reminded Barry.
Barry sighed, exasperated. If hurry was the aim, why dive into the phone booth so eagerly instead of letting him search?
Nonetheless, he placed a hand on Su Ming's shoulder, suspecting this Otherworld Slade must have been a Speedster once, as Divine Speed coursed effortlessly between them.
"Swoosh..." A sound like wood being sawed accompanied Su Ming closing the book: "Got it, do you have 30 pence?"
"Um... pence? Is 50 US cents okay? I could go home to get it."
"Forget it. If I spent that effort, I might as well earn it myself." Su Ming shook his head, removing a silencer from his waist and screwing it onto his gun.
Then, he fired several shots at the phone, causing a cascade of silver coins to tumble out, reminiscent of playing slots in Las Vegas. He bent down, sneaked a few into his belt: "Alright, onto the next phone booth."
Barry glanced at the distant police, feeling a bit guilty. Su Ming's actions vividly illustrated the mercenary 'firing for money' mentality—he wasn't thinking at all, just acting on instinct.
Before the police could notice, Barry whisked Su Ming to another phone booth, planning to reimburse the London city government for the damages later.
Su Ming took off his helmet, took a breath of London-style smog, inserted the coin into the machine, and dialed the number he had noted down earlier.
"Boop...boop...boop" After a wait of about a dozen seconds, a voice answered: "Hello?"
"Constantine? I need your help," said Su Ming straightforwardly.
"No time, but I'll give you a tip: buy more booze, it's a cure-all. Bye." A cavalier voice responded, with background noise akin to a swarm of flies buzzing around the microphone.
"Ten thousand US dollars." Su Ming said impassively, gazing at the street.
"Hmm? Where are you? I'll take the job!" Constantine agreed immediately. Su Ming felt like he'd heard saliva trickle into the mouthpiece.
"If you don't know where I am, it's a sign of your incompetence; then there's no need to discuss business." Su Ming was inclined to respond, but he and Barry weren't Londoners—they had no idea where they were.
Huffing sounds came from the other end, followed by the snap of a lighter flipping open: "Fine, that's tough, I'm on my way."
Su Ming hung up, exited the booth, leaned against the building's wall, and donned his helmet again, waiting.
Soon, through the dark shopfront adjacent to him, a man in a tan trench coat, cigarette in mouth, swaggered out.
He spotted Barry standing by the roadside immediately, bowing his head to pinch his eyes: "Wait, what am I seeing? A Justice League member paying me, the fringe dweller, a visit in London?"
Barry raised a hand, gesturing as an invitation to turn around.
Before Constantine could react, he felt a hefty arm loop around his neck, his back colliding with a suit of armor.
"After getting hit so many times, haven't you learned to check behind doors?"
A deep voice echoed in his ear.