mtl008 Chapter 3981 MU Superbody Major Event (61)
Chapter 3981 MU Superbody Major Event (61)
Chapter 3981 MU: The Superbody Incident (Sixty-One)
“There’s still one major problem,” the main universe Batman said. “We’re fighting on foreign soil, which means we have no foothold in their territory. We have to bring all our own equipment and energy. Equipment is fine; we can just transport it through the portal. But energy will probably have to be exchanged through the exchange system. And the exchange rate is not good right now.”
Other Batmen also started discussing this issue. Actually, looking at the numbers alone, the exchange rate is not bad, roughly 1:3 to 1:4, meaning one DC power can be exchanged for 3 to 4 Marvel power. It seems like a great deal, but in reality, it's not like that at all.
The universe in DC is too young. Since the New 52 began, there haven't been any major events in the universe, so there hasn't been an energy level increase, and it's been in a state of deflation. Moreover, the cost of magical energy here is significantly higher than in the other world; it's all about getting what you pay for, with one unit of cost only yielding one unit of energy.
On the Marvel side, there are many wandering cosmic demons whose cosmic energy level is higher than that of DC. The sorcerers can also forcibly obtain three or four units of energy without paying much price. Therefore, this exchange rate is reasonable.
However, it would still be a loss if war broke out. Their own energy is hard to obtain, while the neighboring energy is worthless. Exchanging resources would not only leave them without energy but could also trigger inflation in the neighboring region. The opposing universe administrators might not allow it.
Batwoman thought for a moment and said, "We can't rely entirely on exchanging for supplies. It would be best if we could get some locally. Since they can rob mages in their universe, we can rob them too, right?"
"The key is how to seize it," said Batman the Adventurer. "They definitely won't allow us to steal things randomly, and those demons next door aren't pushovers either. Just because their mages can beat them doesn't mean ours can. If we lose, we'll have lost both our lives and our army."
“If it’s too difficult to just take it by force, we can try to cheat,” said the main universe Batman. “We all learned in magic school that there’s a lot of room for manipulation when it comes to contracts. It’s not a bad idea to cheat some energy as seed money.”
"That's possible. But we're busy preparing for battle and can't get away. Wonder Woman and Superman don't seem to be very good at this kind of thing either. So who should we send?"
The main universe's Batman silently observed the group. The adventure Batman, arms crossed, said incredulously, "You're not serious?"
“What you’re thinking is a bit impolite,” Batwoman said more bluntly. “I know your intentions are good, but don’t start yet.”
“Constantine, without a doubt.” The main universe Batman still uttered that name, saying, “There really isn’t anyone better at this than him, is there?”
What could the Batmen say? Constantine's abilities are certainly unquestionable; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to outmaneuver the mysterious beings of the multiverse. While he might not be entirely unharmed, he's certainly alive and well, which speaks volumes about his skill.
However, this person is far too unrestrained and unconventional. It's one thing if he stays in his own universe, but if he were to be thrown into another universe, wouldn't that cause a significant drop in his reputation here?
“John is reliable when it comes to serious matters,” said the main universe Batman. “And as far as I know, those guys who frequently appear in the other universe aren’t his type. And if he were to go to another universe to find a demon, he probably wouldn’t be able to bother anyone.”
"And we won't let him go alone. We'll just give him a teammate who can focus on completing the task. Even if he wants to do something else, he'll be pulled back."
Jingle Bell!Jingle Bell!
The phone on the coffee table rang suddenly, almost knocking over the wine bottle. Small white pills danced on the table, stirring up fine dust. A slightly weathered hand reached out from under the clothes on the sofa, shakily grabbed the phone, pressed a button, and then tossed it away.
With a thud, it hit the cabinet by the front door. The figure who had pushed the door open paused for a moment, then stepped forward and picked up the phone.
"Batman has called you more than 80 times," a voice came from the doorway.
"Let him die." The person on the sofa muttered, turned over, covered his head with a jacket, and went back to sleep.
A figure quickly entered the house. It was a very dilapidated apartment; the living room was only about twenty square meters, barely enough to fit a sofa and a coffee table. On the sofa was an unidentified creature covered by clothes, while the coffee table was littered with empty bottles and pills. There was also some unidentified ashes on the sofa, and the room reeked of smoke and a foul odor similar to sesame oil.
He picked up the bottle containing the pills and looked at it.
"Painkillers? You still take that?" The other person's voice carried a hint of disdain. Half-asleep, Constantine finally realized it was a stranger's voice. He jolted awake, abruptly pulling off his clothes and turning to look in the direction of the figure.
"Bullshit." Constantine cursed, sitting up from the sofa, rubbing his eyes hard, then tapping his forehead, and looking at the figure standing against the light in the living room window. "Am I really not dreaming? Or has some kind of time warp occurred again? Schiller, what the hell are you doing here, and so young at that?!"
“I’m not the one you know,” Schiller said casually. He leaned against the windowsill, slowly took a cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth, then tossed his identification onto the coffee table.
Constantine's facial wrinkles tightened. He picked up the ID, glanced at it, and swore again, then said, "You fucking cop?! I must be dreaming!"
He tossed his identification aside, reached for his pills, and then realized the bottle containing them was gone. He held out his hand to Schiller and said, "Give me back my pills."
“I’m not here to arrest you,” Schiller suddenly said.
"Yes, but that's only because I haven't committed a crime. The moment I show even the slightest criminal tendency, you'll handcuff me immediately. You damn blue dog!"
"What I mean is, I didn't come to arrest you, but I still showed you my ID. Why do you think that is?"
"Good heavens, can you stop acting like Sherlock Holmes? Oh, I misspoke, you're Scotland Yard." Constantine shook his head.
Before he could finish speaking, the dark muzzle of a gun was pressed directly against his forehead. Constantine immediately raised his hands and said, "Okay, you're a cop, you have a gun. I understand. What do you want?"
"I told you, Batman called you dozens of times and you didn't answer."
Constantine wore that exasperated expression again. "Come on, answering his calls isn't my obligation. Who does he think I am? His blue-eyed sidekick? Someone I have to confide in him in bed?"
“He has a mission for you.” Schiller put away his gun, took a letter from his pocket, and threw it on the coffee table in front of him.
Constantine sighed, picked up the letter, opened it, and frowned more and more as he read. Then he held out his hand to Schiller. Schiller tossed him a cigarette. Constantine put it in his mouth, lit it with magic, took a deep breath, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, saying, "This isn't good, buddy."
"If it were easy, would we need you to do it? Do you think every Batman wants to embarrass themselves in the next world?"
Constantine suddenly laughed, grinning and saying in a slightly muffled tone, "Oh, yes, our Bruce baby. I'm his pride, aren't I?"
“If you say another word, I’ll record it and send it to the Joker. Get dressed and get out of here.” Schiller turned and went outside.
Constantine quickly put on his clothes, then his trench coat. He gathered the pills on the table, stuffed them into his pocket, and then rummaged through the cabinet next to him, pulling out a huge pile of odds and ends, almost filling a sack. But with a wave of his hand, the things quickly disappeared.
He then pulled out a tattered piece of paper from the side, scribbled a few words on it, threw it on the coffee table, and walked towards the door.
Schiller stood in the corridor waiting for him. Constantine only saw his face clearly when he came out. He couldn't help but look at him a few more times, and then said, "Honestly, you look better when you're older. Of course, it's not bad either, but you don't have the same charisma as an older man."
Schiller rolled his eyes at him so wide they were barely visible, then said, "Time is tight and the mission is heavy. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll have to show you what a real cop is like."
Constantine grinned again, but at least he quickly descended the stairs. The two passed through the portal of the Battle Realm and arrived in the central universe of Marvel, but not on Earth. Because of the existence of the magical defense network, no alien being can be directly teleported to Earth, not even visitors from the Battle Realm.
Their landing point was in the chaotic Centaurus region. It was the second busiest place in the universe, the first being the area near the Great Portal. However, due to the recent heavy losses suffered by the three major empires, they were basically under martial law, and only this lawless zone maintained its usual liveliness.
However, there is no highly developed civilization here. Most of the settlements are camps built by space pirates and middlemen. The city developed on this basis. It doesn't look like a very advanced alien civilization. Instead, it looks more like a medieval town.
Constantine and Schiller walked down a street. Constantine looked left and right; there were two bars on the left and three dance halls on the right, and all sorts of creatures walking on the street. He first dodged a tall, thin, vegetative man, then quickly ducked to avoid the tentacles of a large, fat man, and almost got swatted into a pile of fruit by the wing of a creature that looked like a horse.
“My goodness,” Constantine said, “isn’t the biodiversity here amazing? I’ve never seen so many strange and wonderful creatures in the Maya.”
"In their eyes, the two of us were also very strange. To be precise, extremely dangerous..."
Before Schiller could finish speaking, three walls approached them—three giant quadrupedal creatures, averaging two and a half meters tall and nearly two meters wide, walked towards them.
“What are these? Giant wildebeest?” Constantine looked up at the three enormous creatures and said, “Have they all migrated here?”
“Hey, you guys,” came the fluent English from their translators, “come over and register with us, otherwise you can’t enter the market.”
Schiller readily agreed and walked forward. Constantine nudged him with his elbow and said, "Why is there customs here? And they're taking us into a small, dark room?"
“Stop talking,” Schiller said. “There’s a consensus among the civilizations here that all two-legged carbon-based life forms are dangerous and must be strictly registered wherever they go to prevent them from causing a major disturbance.”
Constantine pursed his lips, clearly not taking it to heart, and continued looking around. Once inside the small house, which was far too large for a human, he didn't stop looking around; his gaze quickly fell on the tapestry beside him and the cabinet beneath it.
"Which civilization?" the lead giant wildebeest asked.
"Nine Great Nations".
Which country specifically?
"The atrium."
"Where in the middle?"
Midgard.
"Official name, not colloquialisms."
"Okay, Earth."
After he finished speaking, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The four horned horses all took a step back, their eyes, which had been just slits, widened like copper bells.