Bruce and Zatanna nodded at the group, while Boston spoke in a somewhat melancholic tone: "Everything was going well initially, we returned to London with our helper. On our way back to the pub, we came across an injured person, a frail old man."
"We initially thought he was injured by a vampire attack, as there have been many such wounded in New York recently, and the hospitals are almost full. But unexpectedly, the old man told us that a group of people wearing long robes, wielding magic wands, had knocked him down and taken his bag."
"We followed the direction he pointed, only to discover that they were a group of magicians, new members of the Great Mage Alliance, who were quarrelling over the bag."
"Jim sensed the powerful force inside the bag, so we immediately charged at them and restrained them. Jim asked them why they attacked a common person, especially a frail old man, but they just kept cursing, saying that this was what they deserved."
"They said ordinary people were nothing but filthy insects without talent or fortune." Jim clenched his teeth, "They claimed that they were meant to be superior, stating that they were experiencing some mishaps at the moment but they would regain this power."
As anger flared up, Jim's mind was filled with their deranged outcries.
"Yes, Master of the Dark Night, Jim, we were wrong... terribly wrong! We should not have shrunk back when we were in control of strong powers. We should have used these powers for greater authority!"
"Our downfall today is due to this erroneous choice. If we ruled the world, even without magical power, we could still live well!"
"Wait, Jim, the members of the Great Mage Alliance have all come for the powerful Spirit of Wrath. Once we merge it into one, it will grant us the power to surpass everything. Then, we will certainly no longer commit the same mistake, we will surely have a status and wealth that matches our talent and fortune!"
Jim put his hand to his head, feeling like a string in his brain was twitching incessantly, giving him a headache.
"Loss may give birth to cherishing, but regaining what was lost might motivate madness." The gorilla detective, Bobo, jumped onto the bar counter, sighing, "The insecurity from losing power will always linger in their minds, and once they regain it, this insecurity will drive them to amass wealth insanely, even to the point of inciting war."
At this moment, the Master of the Dark Night, Jim, stood up from the table, drew his sword from its sheath, held it upright in front of his chest, and said, "Prepare for battle, mates. We have to face both vampires and the Great Mage Alliance. This is destined to be a tough battle, but we will definitely win."
"Ordinary people might not understand you." Bruce turned his head to look at him, saying calmly, "They would just think that you are with the mages, even believing that you are a more evil monster than the mages."
"I don't care how others see me." Jim responded firmly, "I have devoted my life to fighting to save the world from unjust wars. I succeeded in Maya, and I will certainly not fail in my homeland."
As Bruce was about to say something, the communicator at his waist rang. He put the earpiece to his ear, and a frantic female voice came through.
"Mr. Wayne, this is the British Embassy. Where are you now? There are... uh, violent protests happening on several streets in England, the police are already handling the situation, it will be over soon. But we have to ensure your safety, after all, we also have to take responsibility for the employees of Wayne Enterprises..."
Bruce looked troubled, but Jim immediately stepped forward and said, "She's right, Bruce, you are an important figure. If anything happens to the heir to Wayne Enterprises, no one can take responsibility."
"Wait, if that group of great mages wants to create chaos in London, they will definitely target Bruce Wayne. You are notorious for it recently, so you are especially in danger ..."
"No, we need to assign someone to protect you, Little Zha, Little Zha! Stop drinking and wake up, keep an eye on Bruce Wayne, it's all on you now."
Zatanna nodded vigorously, saying: "Don't worry, I have no problem watching over one person."
With the assurance from Zatanna, the Master of the Dark Night and his group turned and left to handle the so-called violent protest.
Zatanna, as if just remembering something, looked at Bruce and asked, "You said just now that you need my help with something, what is it? Considering you helped me once, I promise I'll get it done."
"Constantine is in trouble again, his soul went to hell, but his body is controlled by a mysterious entity. There is a dark shard embedded in his chest, and I dare not pull it out carelessly, because if Constantine destroys his body, he will not be able to resurrect."
Zatanna, upon hearing this bizarre story, showed no surprise, as if she was already accustomed to such things. She leaned her hand on the bar counter and sighed, "He always gets into dangerous situations, then expects others to rescue him in times of peril. He really needs to have a taste of hardship."
"But not this time."
"Alright, fine, I'll bring back both the shard and his body intact."
"It would be better if you brought that mysterious entity as well."
"I'll do my best."
Not long after Zatanna left, Bruce saw a familiar figure at the door, it was Cain, who had turned into the Joker.
But Cain's condition seemed strange, he kept choking himself and bumped around in the pub, then lying down on a table, asked with a choked voice, "What's wrong with your blood, why am I...why...cough cough cough..."
Bruce frowned, but he didn't look surprised, as he walked toward Cain, he murmured to himself, "As expected, if Batman isn't crazy enough, the Joker easily comes back to his senses."
"What...what, did you say?" Cain pressed his hand against the corner of his mouth in pain, and asked.
"Nothing." Bruce stood in front of Cain, his shadow casting on Cain.
Cain looked up, and within Bruce's shadow contrasted against the light, he saw those pair of mysterious and deep blue eyes.
"Drip, drip, drip..."
Cain, filled with pain, closed his eyes, listening to the sound of blood dripping from his arm's veins onto the table. He wasn't like low-level vampires that thirsted for blood, but Bruce's voice lingered in his mind like a devil.
"Do you like my offerings?"
Cain's hand tightened into a fist, he'd rather drink Bruce's blood and fall into painful madness again than to say no.
Because he said God said no.