Chapter 331: Fishing Expert Ma Ma Zhaodi

The next day, opposite the Central City Police Department.

Ma Ma Zhaodi leisurely rode his San San Bengzi vehicle to a stop and began today's business.

Since a poison-gas superpowered individual had escaped the night before, if he acted on his crime out of impatience, perhaps a clue could be found at the police station entrance.

Of course, there was another channel of information.

"Family members, family members." He sent a message in the international students' group asking: "Did you all see the video of that little mist person yesterday?"

"Yo, Old Ma, a rare guest, why suddenly stop lurking?"

"Old Ma, Old Ma, when can you make meat again? The brothers miss your big chunks of meat so much."

"Old Ma? Where are you setting up your stall today? We'll come to collect as usual."

"Today at the police station entrance, just come, remember it's still one thousand dollars per side, I won't sell more."

"Alright."

Seeing the group get lively, Ma Ma Zhaodi took the opportunity to ask again: "I'm a bit interested in that green little mist person; seeing him in prison clothes, he seems like a prisoner. Do any family members know who this person is?"

"Hard. Just a silhouette, who can recognize him? Unless it's an acquaintance."

"We aren't locals; we're good at snapping photos, but finding people is a bit difficult."

"Sigh, Old Ma used to have nothing to do, so he called us friends; now that he has something to do, he starts calling us family members."

"Just don't call us Cow Lady."

"Calling us Cow Lady is fine too."

"Don't derail the topic." Ma Ma Zhaodi corrected the subject: "In any case, I'm quite curious about this guy's information; if anyone can provide it, I'll make special products for you for two days."

"What special products?"

"Hand-stir-fried spicy hot pot sauce, and some cooked ingredients; take them home, stir-fry a bit and eat, or order on the spot, I'll stir-fry fresh."

"Holy crap! Really, bro?"

"I just love this spicy taste."

"I can't eat spicy, though."

"For those who can't eat spicy, I'll make meat sauce; take it home to eat zhajiangmian."

"Holy crap! Really, bro?"

Ma Ma Zhaodi stopped paying attention to the group's exclamations; the task of collecting information had been issued, he just needed to go back, finish making the sauce, and wait for the international students to turn in the task.

If the international students couldn't find it, it didn't matter; anyway, he was just taking a shot in the dark.

Just then, several police officers came out of the Central City Police Department.

"Sigh, that young man came out today—buddy, give us some cookies."

So much time had passed, and this person still couldn't remember the name for pastries; Ma Ma Zhaodi was too lazy to correct it, so he casually took a bag of pastries out of the vehicle.

"Twenty dollars each, thank you for your patronage."

Several police officers paid, holding lattes and pastries as they walked back into the station; their unintentional casual chatter reached Ma Ma Zhaodi's ears: "Did you hear? Something happened at the annual Best Contribution Award ceremony in the Steg Building yesterday."

"Steg? Sounds familiar, that one that's been very hot on TV recently."

"What TV? Don't you guys usually read the Juan Sect? It's the Steg Industries where the Juan Sect piles up thickest in the station."

"Well, that company has been on TV a lot recently."

"Anyway, I think that group's boss doesn't look like a good person; he still has at least twenty lawsuits pending, and the ones already concluded are countless, easily over a hundred cases."

"Anyway, at yesterday's award ceremony, security reportedly saw a group of men in black holding guns standing at the entrance, not sure what they were going to do; in the end, they drove away—Barry even blocked them at the back entrance, but got knocked unconscious."

"Barry? Joe's adopted son?"

"That young man is quite upright... pity his physique is a bit weak. Is he okay?"

"He's fine, but Steg told the police department to investigate this matter carefully and catch the person."

"No clues at all, what can we catch with? They donated money, so we can only pretend to do our part."

"Anyway, I think that boss doesn't look like a good person."

Hearing this, Ma Ma Zhaodi mentally estimated the risk of Denton being caught.

Hmm, basically impossible to be caught.

So he continued setting up his stall with peace of mind.

Ten minutes later, Barry Allen jogged to the police station entrance.

Ma Ma Zhaodi raised his hand to check his watch; Barry was exactly one minute late.

"The world's fastest speedster—well, currently the second-fastest speedster, basically late once every day." He thought: "Is this some kind of strange causality?"

Barry, of course, didn't know what he was thinking; he turned and rushed into the police station, only to burst out again half a minute later.

"Uh, hello, Old Ma."

"Hmm? You know my name?"

"Everyone in the police station knows your name, and everyone in the lab too—even if the Doctor doesn't like pastries, he knows your name from Cisco."

Ma Ma Zhaodi thought this was not a good sign.

"I'm Barry, Barry Allen." Barry introduced himself to him at high speed: "I want to ask, where did you get that chocolate you gave me before?"

"Small business, of course homemade—see? Liquor license!"

Barry showed an awkward yet polite smile.

"Then what raw materials did you use? Or, do you still sell that thing?"

"Can sell, the ingredients are a trade secret; do you have anything else to ask?"

"Nothing, I just really like your chocolate."

Answering Ma Ma Zhaodi's question, Barry recalled the test done in the lab yesterday.

"Complete metabolic failure caused by acute hypoglycemia." Caitlin delivered a definitive diagnosis of his condition: "Not eating enough."

"So I just need to eat one bag of snacks?"

"No way." Cisco chuckled: "You'd have to eat forty bags."

"."

"Based on your metabolism, I'll set you up with a new meal plan, and you won't pass out anymore—don't worry, it's only 850 Mexican wraps, at your speed you can finish them in no time."

Barry sighed: "Unless I take in high-energy food, then I can eat less, right?"

"Even high-energy stuff starts in the hundreds, stop dodging, Barry, just eat properly."

When it got to this point, Barry suddenly knit his brow.

"High-energy food."

He recalled waking up in the back alley; at the time, the faint sweet taste of chocolate still lingered in his mouth.

According to the security guard, he had woken up in the back alley in less than ten seconds.

He turned to look at Dr. Wells: "Is there anything that can replenish my nutrition in ten-odd seconds?"

"Nothing like that exists, Barry, behave yourself, like Cisco said—just eat properly."

So Barry said nothing more, only deciding in his heart that next time he saw that vendor, he would definitely get to the bottom of it.

"Can you sell me a few more pieces of chocolate?" he asked: "I really like them."

"That's easy." Ma Ma Zhaodi replied: "The kind to replenish your nutrition, or the kind to strengthen your body?"

"?"

(End of chapter)