C294

District 13 was a top-secret government agency in the United States, primarily focused on counterterrorism and criminal investigations.

The man in charge? Sheriff Black.

At first, no one in District 13 believed in magic—until Sheriff Black saw the Holy Lord with his own eyes.

Of course, even after Black became a believer, many others remained skeptical, including his superiors.

But Black had no interest in convincing anyone. He certainly wasn't about to publicize anything related to magic.

For one, the truth was undeniable—anyone who personally witnessed it would have no choice but to believe.

For another, exposing the existence of magic to the public would likely cause mass panic, creating more problems than solutions.

The world had already changed.

Aliens had appeared on Earth—twice—engaging in wars that shook the planet. If extraterrestrials were real, then why not magic?

Sheriff Black knew it was time to take the supernatural seriously.

That was why he took it upon himself to cover up magical incidents while quietly assisting Jackie Chan through District 13.

With government backing, Jackie successfully retrieved all twelve powerful talismans, now stored inside a secure facility within District 13.

Sheriff Black had plans.

He wanted to bring his superiors to see the talismans for themselves, proving beyond a doubt that magic was real.

And if that wasn't enough, he had recorded video evidence—hard proof.

Of course, a screen can never compare to seeing something firsthand.

More than that, Black had ambitions. If he could secure this win, he had a shot at leading District 14, a new division in the works.

Then—

It all went wrong.

Just hours before his superiors were scheduled to visit—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A deafening alarm blared through District 13.

Sheriff Black's face hardened.

"What the hell?"

Since its founding, District 13 had never sounded its emergency alarm.

The fact that it was going off now meant serious trouble.

Then, his communicator crackled with frantic voices.

"Sheriff! We've got intruders—District 13 is under attack!"

"Enemies incoming!"

Black remained calm. "Who are they?" he asked, his voice steady. "Can you identify them?"

"No, sir!" The officer's voice was filled with panic. "They have... powers! They're not normal!

"Bullets aren't working! We need backup! We need backup now!"

Sheriff Black didn't hesitate. "Hold your ground! I'm reporting this to command!"

He slammed his hand onto the emergency alert button, which would immediately notify his superiors. Then, without wasting another second, he pulled out his phone and called Jackie Chan.

Ring… Ring… Click.

"Sheriff Black? What's going on?"

Jackie sounded tense—like he already knew something.

Black's eyes narrowed.

"Don't tell me there's a problem with the talismans."

Jackie's voice came back, sharp and serious. "Not yet. But District 13 has been breached."

Black could hear the realization in Jackie's tone.

"Do you know something I don't?" Black pressed. "We still don't have confirmation on the enemy's identity, but I have every reason to believe their target is the Twelve Talismans."

Jackie's response was immediate.

"I knew it!" he muttered. Then, more firmly: "I'm bringing backup!"

BEEP.

The call cut off.

Sheriff Black stared at his phone.

"...Bring backup?"

Jackie's words echoed in his mind.

Then it hit him.

"...Wait. Bring who?!"

...

Papa's Antique Shop

Just as Jackie Chan finished explaining the situation with the twelve talismans in District 13, his phone rang.

It was Sheriff Black.

After a quick conversation, everyone in the shop understood what was happening.

"Mephisto and the Holy Lord are making their move," Constantine said thoughtfully. "Their first target is the twelve talismans. Looks like Mephisto plans to free the Holy Lord first, then use him to track down the San Van Gonzal Contract and gather the power of the wraiths—to open the gates of Hell."

"We need to go help—now."

Jackie Chan glanced around, then pulled Xiaoyu into his father's arms.

"Father, take care of Xiaoyu. Don't let her run off."

Then, turning to Toru, he said, "You're coming with me."

"Got it."

Toru didn't hesitate.

Sure, he could be a little timid, but that didn't mean he lacked courage.

In fact, throughout Jackie Chan Adventures, Toru—a skilled sumo wrestler with latent magical abilities—had proven himself far more capable than most gave him credit for.

By the later seasons, his magic skills were nearly on par with the old man himself.

Jackie then turned to Constantine.

When he said he was bringing people, he wasn't just talking about Toru—he meant Constantine, too.

But Constantine's reaction was unexpected.

With a shrug, Constantine said, "You go ahead. Fighting isn't exactly my thing. But don't worry—help is coming."

Jackie hesitated, then nodded.

Even though they had just met, his instincts—honed from years of adventure and Batman's endorsement—told him Constantine was trustworthy.

Without further delay, Jackie and Toru rushed out of the antique shop.

"Uncle Jackie!"

Xiaoyu, still in her father's arms, struggled fiercely, but the old man's grip was like iron.

No matter how hard she kicked and squirmed, she couldn't break free.

Frustrated, she gritted her teeth and glared at Constantine.

"You're not going to help?" she accused. "Is that 'not good at fighting' excuse just a cop-out?"

She paused, then let out a huff.

"You're Batman's ally, aren't you? This is serious! And you're just standing there making excuses? I'm so disappointed, Mr. Constantine!"

Constantine didn't react.

Instead, he casually replied, "The twelve talismans are powerful, sure. But there's more than one way to solve this crisis."

His gaze then shifted past Xiaoyu and the old man—to the back of the shop.

There, Johnny Blaze stood in the doorway, looking disoriented.

His face was pale, his movements uncertain—as if he was only now piecing together where he was.

"I..." Johnny started, but Constantine cut him off.

"You remember what happened last night, don't you?"

Johnny was silent for a moment. Then he nodded stiffly.

"I lost control," he muttered. "And then... I fought Mephisto."

"Yeah, you did."

Constantine paused, then added dryly, "And you killed a lot of demons, by the way. That make you feel any better?"

Johnny didn't answer.

His hands tightened into fists. "That thing inside me..." he said hoarsely. "That Spirit of Vengeance... I couldn't stop it. I just watched. Watched it kill.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"And next time... I won't be able to stop it either."

"From the Spirit of Vengeance's perspective, eighty percent of people in this world are guilty—even children."

"Children?"

Xiaoyu was stunned.

After their previous conversations, she had gained a clearer understanding of the Ghost Rider, or more accurately, the Spirit of Vengeance.

But even now, she realized she had underestimated just how extreme and merciless it was.

"That's right," Johnny said, his eyes settling on her. "Aside from the sumo-sized guy over there, you're the next target of the Spirit of Vengeance in this room."

"What? Why?"

Xiaoyu's indignation flared. "Just because I'm a kid, I deserve to die?"

Constantine cut in smoothly. "Which is exactly why you need to learn to control the Spirit of Vengeance, Johnny—or at the very least, find a way to negotiate with it."

Then, he turned to the old man. "I think you might have a way."

The old man shook his head. "Controlling the thoughts of a fallen angel is nearly impossible."

But then he sighed and added, "However, suppressing the bloodlust and killing instinct of the Spirit of Vengeance… now that is much simpler."

"That's enough," Constantine nodded. "Then get to work. Prepare a magic potion that can suppress the Spirit of Vengeance. We need Ghost Rider to back up Jackie Chan."

"Wait—our 'helper' is Ghost Rider?"

Xiaoyu's eyes widened as she turned to Johnny Blaze in disbelief. "You mean him? A murderer who kills without blinking?"

"Oh? And you're one to talk about manners?" the old man grumbled. "You have no problem calling me a cranky old man, but now you're judging him?"

Before Xiaoyu could fire back, the sound of screeching tires filled the air.

Screeeeech!

Seven or eight black cars skidded to a stop in front of the shop.

One by one, men in black suits stepped out—broad-shouldered, wearing dark sunglasses, exuding the unmistakable air of professional enforcers.

And then, she stepped out.

A woman with a commanding presence, dressed in high heels, strode toward the antique shop.

She scanned the room once—then fixed her sharp gaze on Constantine.

The old man frowned. "Who are you? This is my antique shop. You don't just walk in uninvited."

"Relax," Constantine said coolly, locking eyes with the woman. "Go take care of your business. I'll handle things from another angle and keep this situation from spiraling further."

The woman took a step forward. "Mr. Constantine."

She had short hair, a professional air, and a presence that commanded authority.

She was Aisha, the Adjudicator from the High Table—the same position Anton once held.

Standing before Constantine, Aisha recalled the orders she had received.

Her superiors had made it clear: this blond man in the trench coat was the one she was to serve.

"I am Aisha, an Adjudicator of the High Table."

She bowed slightly, her tone polite but firm. "Per my orders, I am now at your service, Mr. Constantine."

To outsiders, Constantine and Anton were two completely different people.

So, naturally, Aisha had no idea that the man she was speaking to was, in fact, Anton's clone.

But Constantine knew her very well.

"Hello, Aisha."

His voice remained calm. "Tell me, how familiar is the Black Hand with the High Table?"

"Not very," Aisha admitted. "But if your target is the Black Hand, we can mobilize nearby assets to eliminate any obstacles in your way."

Constantine nodded. "Good. Then move now—we're out of time."

Then, without hesitation, he turned back to the old man, Xiaoyu, and Johnny Blaze.

"I have things to take care of."

Before Leaving

Before stepping out, Constantine left them with a final remark:

"I suggest you act as soon as possible—unless you want the 13th District to be completely overrun. Jackie Chan, Tru, and the agents there won't be able to hold them off. You need the Ghost Rider."

Buzzzzz!

With that, Constantine got into the car under Aisha's lead, heading straight for the Los Angeles gang territory.

The three left behind exchanged glances.

"He definitely knows more than he's letting on," Xiaoyu huffed, crossing her arms. "I hate people who act all mysterious instead of just giving answers!"

The old man's face darkened slightly as if he had already guessed something.

"Xiaoyu, go prepare the materials for me. Quickly!"

"Alright, alright, I'm on it!"

Xiaoyu was a natural go-getter, especially when it came to dealing with the supernatural. Without hesitation, she rushed off.

Johnny, meanwhile, remained where he was, hesitating.

"I… is there anything I can do to help?"

The old man glanced at him. "Sit. You'll be useful in just a few minutes."

En Route to the Mafia's Territory

As the black car sped toward the Mafia's stronghold, Aisha provided a rundown.

"The Mafia's leader is Walloon—an Englishman. A sharp criminal strategist with exceptional combat skills. He's a dangerous man."

She continued, "He has four top lieutenants: Zhou, Rasu, Afen, and his most trusted enforcer, Afu…"

"That doesn't matter," Constantine interjected flatly.

Aisha blinked in surprise. "What? Aren't we here to deal with the Mafia?"

Constantine exhaled smoke from his cigarette and leaned back. "Oh, I do plan to deal with them… but they're just obstacles, not my true target."

Aisha's brows furrowed. Something about his tone was… off.

Clearly, there was something bigger going on.

This mission had originated from Anton's orders—and Anton had deep ties to Batman. If she put the pieces together:

Constantine = Anton = Batman = Justice League.

Aisha narrowed her eyes. She had spent years navigating the underground world, but this… this was something else entirely.

Something far beyond the reach of the High Table.

Aisha led Constantine out of the car.

They stood before a large, unassuming building—the Mafia's main stronghold.

It was late afternoon, yet the place was eerily quiet.

The roads on both sides were blocked.

Passersby hurried along, avoiding eye contact, as if pretending this place didn't exist.

Constantine took in the surroundings.

He could sense it—a faint demonic presence drifting from inside the building.

He took a deep breath, then smiled.

"Let's go. Our welcoming party is already waiting."

Without hesitation, he strode forward, leading the way into the Mafia stronghold—now completely surrounded by the High Table's forces.

…..

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