Capítulo 3900: Chapter 3017: The Dense Shade of Green Trees Prolongs the Summer Days (15)

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As dawn was approaching, Shiller returned to Arkham Asylum and, unsurprisingly, found that Brand had not slept at all. Shiller placed the late-night snacks he had bought on the table.

Brand straightened up from his desk, seemingly having drifted away for a while before the aroma of the food suddenly awakened him. He quickly came over and asked, "From the Chinese restaurant?"

"Where else?"

"Right, they're the only ones open so late." Brand rubbed his hands together but then quickly realized something and narrowed his eyes at Shiller, "What are you up to? I warn you, I won't be bribed with a midnight snack."

"You're overthinking, they wouldn't sell just one serving."

Brand felt that something was off but couldn't quite put his finger on it. Ultimately deciding not to dwell on it, he tore open the bag and began to eat. He watched Shiller skillfully use chopsticks with a hint of envy but still picked up a fork and started eating the stir-fried noodles honestly.

"You went to investigate near the school, found anything?"

"That school also had middle and elementary divisions," Shiller said. "It seems they operated for a while about ten years ago but were demolished for some reason afterward. I suspect the problematic principal might not have been from the high school division but from the demolished middle and elementary school divisions."

"Are there three principals?" Brand asked.

Shiller nodded, "At least two, one for the middle and elementary divisions and another for the high school division."

Brand had studied psychology, and he certainly understood why that would be the case. The teaching methods for the middle and elementary schools differ entirely from those of high schools, and the schedules and management approaches naturally vary, so it makes sense to have two principals.

"But Edward didn't attend the middle or elementary schools there. How could he have had any dealings with the principal of the middle and elementary divisions?" Brand asked.

Shiller shook his head, "Not clear yet, but all three schools are not far from each other; it's not impossible for them to have bumped into each other by chance."

"If, as you said, it's the principal of the middle and elementary divisions who's involved, he surely wouldn't have acted on the street, right? Could Edward have run into an office?"

Shiller had also not pulled himself out of the thought process. The tricky part of this case was its age; most leads were already buried over time, and the only witness who experienced it all couldn't be questioned, leaving too few clues.

"There's one very useful clue," Shiller said. "We found a body beneath the ruins of the middle and elementary school divisions, presumably a worker, judging from the condition of the bones."

"A body?" Brand seemed somewhat interested now.

Shiller took out a professional forensic plastic evidence bag from his pocket and handed it to Brand. Brand saw the finger bone inside the bag, but what he really wanted to say was,

"Are you serious? Carrying this thing around with you?"

He was referring to the professional evidence bag, but Shiller was nonchalant, "Just picked it up while I was at the Gotham Police Department's morgue."

"Gordon let you take it?" Brand said incredulously. "Is he in good mental health? Does he not need to be admitted for treatment?"

"Of course, he didn't let me take it, but It's better than taking part of a body," Shiller said, not dwelling on this issue. "If you can find a professional, help me analyze and compare the DNA."

"That depends on what kind of professional you're looking for," Brand said, eyeing the finger bone. "If we're going from a scientific standpoint, comparing the DNA of the entire city is impractical; Gotham Police Department definitely doesn't have such comprehensive genetic data, and Batman might not have it either."

"What about from other angles?"

"I can set up an Array," Brand said. "Maybe we can summon his soul and ask him, or if that fails, at least see what he looked like."

"Can it recreate the death scene?"

Brand shook his head, "That might be difficult. Seeing even a fragment of the soul would be good enough. If Constantine could still use magic, he'd be the true Hell Detective. I'm just a pathologist."

"You better just be a pathologist," Shiller snorted. "How long will you need?"

"I'll need about a day to gather materials... I'll make a list for you; go find Zatanna. She'll know where to get these materials."

"Why should I go?" Shiller looked at him.

"You mean to tell me I should use work time and bring my own materials to help you?" Brand looked at Shiller. "Could you have a bit of a debtor's conscience?"

"You don't have students?"

"The 7 interns I'm supervising this year, 8 won't pass the internship, 9 can't make up the supervision hours, and 12 need to take leave to write their thesis. Do you think they have time to run errands for me?"

Shiller sighed; even for Nya, the cost of pushing him to pay his debts was too high.

Shiller was originally planning to send one of his graduate students, and don't think that foreign mentors are any better; graduate students still can't avoid running errands. But then he remembered the awful thesis drafts of a few students just a month shy from graduating lying in his inbox; it seemed better to go himself.

After a brief rest, Shiller called Zatanna, who was surprised by his visit. When Shiller arrived, she appeared to be urgently tidying up the bookstore.

"Where's John?" Shiller asked casually.

"He went to the publisher."

"The publisher?"

"Didn't you know? He's recently had two short stories published, and the response has been quite good."

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"He started to be a writer?"

"Not really, he just got bored watching the bookstore and decided to write down some of the magic events he encountered before. It happened that an editor saw his draft on the table and suggested he submit it to a publishing house. Surprisingly, it got published."

Zatanna smiled and said, "Let's not talk about what kind of person he is for now, but his experiences are indeed legendary. Some people love to read about that stuff. He made over a thousand bucks from just two stories."

Shiller raised an eyebrow and asked, "Magic events? Does he write adventure stories?"

"Uh... actually, they're horror stories." Zatanna said somewhat helplessly: "Some things aren't that terrifying from a magician's perspective, but to ordinary people, they might seem scary."

Shiller was somewhat surprised, but he thought Constantine was actually well suited for this job, or rather, compared to being a magician, he was probably always meant to do this. Those inspirations that far exceeded those of ordinary people were supposed to be poured into artistic work. If he had chosen this path from the beginning, he might already be a famous writer by now.

It seemed Zatanna thought the same thing. She said, "John's life is not entirely a tragedy. He invested himself, he experienced, and now he is able to break free and look at the mysterious side of the world as an outsider. So for him, embracing art is just a matter of time, and it's certainly better to be an artist than a corpse."

"What about you?" Shiller asked.

"Me? Reviving the Magic realm is my destiny. Even if one day someone clears my debts, I would return because of my responsibilities, not to mention, I still have to find my father."

Shiller's lips moved slightly. He knew that Brand might have a clue about Zatanna's father, but considering that dealing with Nya wasn't exactly safe, he didn't make the suggestion.

But then he thought, letting Constantine deal with Nya might be a good idea, because now Constantine was a writer, and no Outer God could refuse someone wanting to write their story into a book.

This could almost achieve a triple win; Constantine would gain inspiration from Nya's narratives to write and make money from his novels, Nya could use his stories to expand its influence and see even greater entertainment, and Constantine might indirectly probe for clues about Zatanna's father to help her find her relative.

As for Shiller, he only did a small bit of matchmaking, which more or less settled his debt—in his opinion, entirely settled it, since he didn't plan to do anything more.

Shiller gave the list of materials Brand had compiled to Zatanna, who glanced over it and said, "You're performing a soul summoning ceremony? I must remind you, the person conducting the ceremony must be reliable, otherwise you never know what might come through."

In his mind, Shiller said, "There's no one more reliable than him."

"Is your medium ready? Can I take a look at it?" Zatanna was obviously concerned, she continued, "Some demons tamper with it in secret, purposefully switching the medium so that they can come into the world through the soul summoning ceremony. I've encountered this several times already. The cunning of demons is beyond the imagination of ordinary people."

Luckily, Shiller happened to be carrying that piece of bone with him, which he handed to Zatanna for inspection. She nodded her head and told Shiller that the materials were not hard to prepare and that she had them all. Quickly, she turned and began to gather them.

Since Shiller wanted to see Constantine, he waited a little longer, and around noon, Constantine returned. He looked much healthier, though he still had the same drowsy, half-awake demeanor.

"Soul summoning ceremony? Isn't that what you used to mock me about when I was a Hell Detective?" Constantine scoffed, but still carefully inspected the medium that Shiller had brought over.

"I can sense the aura of a violent death, but it seems to be a common person. As long as there's no contracted entity, it's easy to deal with. Who are you looking for?"

"Brand."

"That friend of yours? I can't see through him; he might be a formidable figure."

"More formidable than you can imagine."

Constantine looked up at Shiller.

"Would you like to come with me to meet him?"

"You make it sound like you want to sell me out."

"If I wanted to sell you out, you would have been chopped up long ago." Shiller stood up and said farewell to Zatanna.

"Anyway, don't get Little Zha involved." Standing up, Constantine shook the slippers on his feet and said, "Even if you didn't say it, I'd have to go. A soul summoning ceremony isn't as simple as you think. What if some greenhorn messes it up and knocks down the house of the Insane Asylum? It doesn't matter, but what do we do if those lunatics get out?"

"Didn't think you'd have this kind of social responsibility."

"After being in that mental institution for so many years, they're not going to get off easy either."

"I take back what I said before."

The two got in the car, and the dark-haired girl in simple shorts and a T-shirt stood under the bright sunshine, smiling and waving at them. The light flowed over her, bright as an oil painting.

"She's really beautiful." Constantine remarked, "In my new novel, I'm going to write her as the protagonist."

"And then have her end up with you, the main character?"

"No, have her witness me, the main character, getting torn apart by demons."

"You were born for this job."

"Thanks for the compliment. So what's the deal with that Brand?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Don't be too surprised when you do."

Constantine smiled with a sneer in his grin, leaning his hand on the car window frame, gazing outside. His blonde hair fluttered in the stream formed by the light and the wind like golden sand stirred up from the riverbed and carried by the current.

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