"There's no such thing as a free lunch! You suddenly offered me all these benefits for no reason, so there has to be something else you want!"
Constantine had one fundamental rule.
He knew how to deal with devils.
That was precisely why he was extremely suspicious whenever someone offered him a favor, and he had no intention of casually accepting one.
The witch did not bother hiding anything.
"Hehehe... Of course I'm not doing this for no reason!"
"The truth is, Wonder Woman and I have been mortal enemies for many years. I've waited decades for a chance to defeat her!"
"With your help, accomplishing that will become much easier."
Constantine nodded.
That explanation was considerably more believable.
Although he was still far from reassured, he picked up the magical scroll and examined it more carefully.
Then his expression changed.
Constantine was extremely well-traveled in the supernatural world.
Not even beings like the Archangel Gabriel or Satan himself could easily surprise him anymore.
And yet, the scroll lying in front of him genuinely astonished the master of the dark arts.
"This..."
Constantine's eyes widened.
"The magic inside this thing can really achieve something like that?"
His expression became increasingly strange.
"But... why is it...?"
"Why lycanthropy?"
The witch sneered and finished the question for him.
"That's what you wanted to ask, isn't it?"
She slowly tapped her fingers against her cane.
"Over the years, my repeated defeats at Wonder Woman's hands forced me to think about one question."
"How do you defeat an opponent with the blood of a god?"
"They possess incredibly strong bodies, powerful muscles, extraordinary speed, practically limitless stamina, and command all kinds of supernatural abilities."
"No matter how powerful a spell a mortal develops, there is still a limit to how far mortal blood can be elevated."
"I once thought the solution was simply to become as powerful as a god myself."
She smiled coldly.
"But eventually, I changed my approach."
"Instead of endlessly trying to strengthen myself, I began studying ways to weaken gods."
Constantine immediately understood.
"So that's why you chose lycanthropic transformation as your breakthrough?"
He frowned.
"Normally, druids are the ones who study this kind of magic."
"The purpose is to obtain the abilities of different animals and compensate for a human's natural weaknesses."
"But a god is already close to a perfect being."
"If you force a god into an animal form with transformation magic, you aren't strengthening them."
"You're dragging their abilities down to the level of an animal."
The witch smiled.
"And that isn't all."
"Once the transformation takes effect, they lose the ability to properly use magic, and their divine artifacts become useless."
"There are only two ways to break the curse."
"Either the caster willingly removes it, or someone with greater magical power than the caster forcibly breaks the spell."
Her grin widened.
"In other words, this scroll is practically the perfect magical weapon for dealing with a demigod."
Constantine fell silent for a long time.
As a master of dark magic, he could understand the spell contained within the scroll almost immediately.
Its underlying transformation technique was almost laughably simple.
To someone of Constantine's level, it was like looking at an elementary school mathematics problem.
Yet precisely because the structure was so straightforward, he could also tell there was nothing hidden inside it.
No trap.
No secret curse aimed at him.
Nothing.
There was only an astonishing amount of magical power.
"Take it."
The witch smiled broadly.
"It's an ideal weapon for someone who expects to fight gods."
"Who knows? You may run into Wonder Woman again someday."
"And you should already understand something else."
"The scroll cannot affect its own creator."
"So I don't have to worry about you turning around and using it against me."
She chuckled.
"Besides, this curse is far too specialized to waste on ordinary enemies."
"That leaves you with one truly worthwhile target."
"Diana."
"The woman who humiliated you and beat you half to death."
Constantine stared at the scroll in silence.
...
No one knew exactly how much time passed.
Eventually, Constantine emerged from the private room with a cigarette hanging from his lips and the powerful scroll tucked into the pocket of his coat.
The scruffy occultist walked casually down the street.
Only after making certain that nobody was watching him did he quicken his pace and disappear around the far end of the road.
On the hospital rooftop, however, a black-robed witch stood hidden in a secluded corner.
She stared down at the crowd below with a wide grin.
She seemed quite satisfied with Constantine's choice.
The man she had just manipulated had deceived Satan and had even gone up against beings such as the Archangel Gabriel.
But looking carefully at Constantine's history revealed the secret behind many of those victories.
He was a comparatively insignificant mortal who survived by exploiting the arrogance and overconfidence of beings far more powerful than himself.
That did not mean Constantine had no weaknesses.
Quite the opposite.
The disheveled occultist was practically made of flaws.
Most angels and demons were simply too proud to bother exploiting them.
People often considered Constantine an exceptionally cautious and calculating man.
He was usually the one deceiving everyone else, making it easy to assume that nobody could ever turn the tables on him.
But Constantine did have weaknesses.
In particular, whenever he became convinced that something posed no direct threat to him, he did not mind taking advantage of an apparently harmless opportunity.
There was a perfect example in Justice League Dark.
Ritchie Simpson, an old friend whose life had been ruined by the consequences of working with Constantine, was dying.
Constantine lowered his guard because Ritchie appeared to be on the verge of death and allowed him into the House of Mystery to recover.
But Ritchie had deliberately used his dying condition to lower everyone's suspicions.
Once inside, he revealed his true intentions and seized the Dreamstone.
So after Constantine confirmed that the scroll contained nothing more than an extremely powerful transformation curse, with no hidden trap targeting him, he happily accepted the treasure.
After all, Wonder Woman was currently in Gotham City.
There was a very real possibility that Diana would appear again and beat him into the ground a second time.
From her hidden position on the rooftop, the witch laughed.
"Hahahaha..."
"Now he'll have plenty of confidence the next time he faces Wonder Woman."
"Let's see how Diana deals with a curse that strips away the advantages of her divine nature!"
At that moment, the witch's voice no longer sounded old or grating.
A cold wind swept across the rooftop.
The ugly, decrepit old woman suddenly began to transform.
Her hunched body straightened.
The wrinkles vanished from her skin.
In the blink of an eye, the dying old crone had become a beautiful, aristocratic woman.
If Karl had been there, he would have recognized her immediately.
Circe!
The legendary witch.
Circe was an ancient immortal sorceress descended from the sun god Helios and Perseis, and she possessed extraordinarily powerful magic.
She delighted in humiliating others and was infamous for using her sorcery to transform her victims into beasts and monsters.
In War of the Gods, Circe had been one of the Amazons' greatest enemies and had attempted to destroy both them and Wonder Woman.
Naturally, her schemes against Diana had repeatedly ended in defeat.
The hatred between the two women had endured ever since.
...
By this time, Karl had already finished his television interview.
He pulled the tight necktie from around his collar, tossed it aside, and cheerfully walked out of the studio.
"That damned tie nearly killed me!"
Karl cursed as he strolled toward the canal.
"Wait! I was about to take a picture."
Edward Nygma hurried after him.
"You really have no idea how good you looked just now."
He paused before adding with complete seriousness,
"That was actually a metaphorical riddle. What I really meant was that your fashion sense used to be terrible."
Karl grinned, wearing an expression somewhere between laughter and exasperation.
Still, when he thought about it, no one around Edward had seriously tried to solve one of his riddles in quite a while.
Perhaps the rumors were right.
Maybe Edward really did use riddles as a way to hide the dissatisfaction and unhappiness in his own life.
(End of Chapter)
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