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Chapter 63: Waiting for an Answer
🕑 Added 2025-03-01 14:02:22 +0000 UTC
Midnight’s attitude was exactly what an exorcist’s should be.
Noah had read plenty of books about the complicated relationship between exorcists and Magicians. To say there was resentment between them would be an understatement.
Before the profession of exorcists became established, the task of purging malevolent entities fell to Magicians. Unfortunately, Magicians weren’t exactly known for their patience or mercy. If they encountered something demonic, they simply destroyed it. If they didn’t, they didn’t bother to care.
This indifference allowed all sorts of supernatural beliefs to take root in the Western world. By the time the magical community finally acknowledged the need for a dedicated exorcist profession, it was already too late to change public perception.
As a result, exorcists had to deal with a mess that was arguably caused by Magicians in the first place. Perhaps out of guilt—or just convenience—the magical world introduced the Trust the Exorcist Act. This law ensured that exorcists were given first priority on exorcism-related missions, even over fully licensed Magicians.
Not that it helped much. Magicians generally looked down on exorcists, considering them glorified ghost hunters with little magical talent. Meanwhile, exorcists resented Magicians for treating them like second-class citizens despite the dangerous work they did.
Noah understood this dynamic well. Reading about the history of magic had given him insight into the world he was now part of. He didn’t let Midnight’s cold demeanor bother him. Instead, his attention was fixed on the so-called Legendary Chair—a relic that could supposedly pierce dimensions.
To be honest, Noah found it unsettling.
The chair had originally come from Star Prison, one of the first U.S. penitentiaries to use the electric chair for executions. Since 1890, over 200 prisoners had been executed in it, and over time, it developed an eerie reputation.
Interestingly, the first batch of electric chairs had been supplied by none other than Thomas Edison, who hoped to discredit alternating current (AC) in favor of his own direct current (DC) system. He believed that if people associated AC with death, they’d buy his products instead.
Noah didn’t care about the historical marketing war. What interested him was the supernatural energy surrounding the chair.
His theory? So many condemned souls had passed through this chair that it became a beacon for tracking evil spirits.
Still, there was no way in hell he was sitting in it.
"Go ahead, John. I’ll wait here."
"I knew you’d say that," Constantine muttered.
The process involved sitting in the chair, getting electrocuted, and using the shock to establish a connection with the target spirit. Noah was curious but not that curious.
Aside from the unpleasant thought of being electrocuted, he also hated being restrained. Not being able to move—or fight back—while magic surged through him was not his idea of a good time.
So naturally, Constantine got the short end of the stick. Not that he complained. He had already accepted his fate and climbed onto the chair while Midnight prepared the ritual.
Nearby, Ms. Haifin wrinkled her nose in distaste. "This is the chair Edison sold to U.S. prisons?"
"Yep. It’s gruesome, but it works." Noah shrugged. Another reason he refused to sit in it? Two hundred people had died in that very seat.
"Are there a lot of artifacts like this in the magical world?"
"Plenty. Honestly, magic is weird. Our school alone has a three-headed dog guarding a restricted corridor, and there are giant, half-tamed monsters in the basement. The Forbidden Forest? Full of things that would love to eat you. You just get used to it."
Haifin raised an eyebrow. "I can’t believe how much you’ve learned in a year."
Noah smirked. "I spend most of my time in the library. I’m not a pureblood wizard, so I need to study harder to keep up. I’ll show you around sometime."
As his guardian, Haifin was slowly being introduced to the magical world. There were only two ways this could go: she could adapt, or she could have her memory erased.
Noah preferred the first option. So far, Haifin was doing a good job handling all the insanity. Sure, she was unsettled by things like the chair, but so was he.
Before he could say more, Constantine suddenly let out a strangled scream.
Noah whipped around just in time to see the exorcist drenched in cold sweat, his face twisted in agony. His body convulsed, and his throat bobbed like he was being choked by invisible hands.
Something was attacking him.
Noah reacted instantly, reaching for his wand. But Midnight was faster. With a firm grip, he grabbed Constantine and yanked him free from the chair’s influence.
Constantine tumbled onto the floor, gasping.
"Damn it!" he wheezed. "That sucked."
But despite the rough experience, a triumphant glint flickered in his eyes. He had seen something.
Noah knelt beside him. "You found our guy?"
"Yeah," Constantine panted. "He’s in the mental hospital where Isabella committed suicide."
Noah’s gaze sharpened. "Got it. Then we move as soon as we’re ready."
He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he turned and left the kitchen.
Exorcist preparations took time, and he didn’t care to watch. He had his own concerns—like figuring out exactly what they were walking into.
If this was just a battle against some low-level manifestation, Noah wouldn’t be worried. But things were never that simple.
Mammon had arrived on Earth for a reason, and he wouldn’t back down easily.
And if Mammon was moving behind the scenes, Noah seriously doubted that his father—Satan himself—was unaware of it. The Lord of Hell was probably watching with amusement, waiting to see how both the magical community and Constantine would react.
It made sense. After all, Constantine had personally banished countless demons back to Hell. Satan was undoubtedly eager to see how his favorite nuisance would fare this time.
Noah sighed. Great. So I’m caught in a power struggle between Hell, the magical world, and a guy who thinks exorcisms are a fun pastime.
And then there was the Ministry of Magic.
He still had no idea what they were planning. The two Aurors who had shown up earlier refused to tell him anything.
"Those damn Aurors better start talking soon," he muttered under his breath. "This is getting ridiculous."
As if on cue, a voice called out from behind him:
"I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you before, but you don’t seem to mind knowing now."
Noah turned sharply.
The Aurors had finally come with answers.
