John didn't know if it was wise or not, but the second anyone mentioned owing something, he immediately turned it down. That was the danger of dealing with demons most of his life. That didn't stop his eyes from following the path of the put away cigarette case wistfully short-lived as that was. Those eyes drew Constantine's back fast. Those last words though? There was a reason most had the nickname of World's Greatest Conman. Might be best to keep that to a dull roar.

"Me? I'm John Constantine. No one special."

Again, the business card was drawn from an inner pocket and offered. Exorcist, Demonologist and Master of the Dark Arts was below his name along with a useless phone number. Magic sizzled in the bit of paper, a bit of John's essence that the majority of people would miss. It was a sharp bit of magic, the holy and unholy wrapped up together to be called when needed. Black or white magic ended up determined by how it was used.

"Depends on where you stand on an issue if the other party is lying. Sky isn't always blue. Could be purple or black or even red. I answered your question so what's this about five years?"

John's hands slid into his coat pockets. Not much to help him in there, but he had been hoping. A bluff might be needed if Mr Tall Dark Creepy Handsome was dangerous.