Chapter 175: Doraemon Would Instantly Beat Mephiston

Zhou Yun wiped his mouth, stacked the twelve plates on the table into a pile, and carried them back to the restaurant owner.

The restaurant owner, seeing Zhou Yun alone consume twelve portions, could not help but wear an approving expression.

"You ate twelve portions by yourself? My cooking must be good, right?"

The owner extended four arms to take the plates from Zhou Yun's hands.

"The flavor is excellent, but…" Zhou Yun's eyes flickered with confusion: "Too much? Not really. Your portions are quite small."

Upon hearing this, the restaurant owner's expression froze abruptly—as if for the first time someone had told him his portions were too small.

"Really too small," Zhou Yun said sincerely, noticing the owner's change in expression: "I'm only half-full."

To avoid exposing his identity, Zhou Yun had kept the Hot Performance Board & Robot Director active; his speech unconsciously showcased his acting skills.

This sincerity turned the owner's frozen face dark with self-doubt as he stared at the twelve plates in his hands.

Zhou Yun didn't understand why the owner looked like that—he himself felt he'd eaten only half-full.

The portions were genuinely small; often, Zhou Yun hadn't even savored the flavor before the dish was gone.

But since it cost nothing—just stealing from the chicken thief—he found the taste excellent and had no complaints.

He stepped out of the restaurant, walked along the suspended metal path, found a spot free of gene-thieves, and pulled out the Door of Anywhere and the Seeker's Staff from his fourth-dimensional pocket.

"Mephiston," Zhou Yun whispered, releasing the Seeker's Staff.

The staff toppled, pointing toward Mephiston's location.

To prevent the 30% error margin, Zhou Yun tested it again.

After confirming no error, he verified the position using his mental map and opened the Door of Anywhere.

A wave of heat, mixed with radioactive sand, swept over Zhou Yun's body-clay surface.

Zhou Yun stepped through the door, placing one foot onto the desert blanketed in endless yellow sand.

"Mephiston," Zhou Yun whispered again; the staff toppled, pointing to Mephiston's position.

Then Zhou Yun summoned the last remnants of his expired college student's intellect, drawing two lines on his mental map.

One line began at Shechi Fortress, the other from his current location—both extending toward Mephiston's position.

The two lines intersected on his mental map, marking a single point.

Logically, that point should be Mephiston's location.

Zhou Yun opened the Door of Anywhere again within the sand and stepped through.

He stood atop a dune of sand, gazing toward the distance.

As expected, Mephiston, the Gene-Thief Chief, the Bishop, and fourteen Shechi Saint-Gilgames Champions were advancing through the sand.

Zhou Yun, hidden by the dust and his Rogue-DX suit, observed the scene from afar.

Mephiston walked at the rear of the group, lost in thought, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the other members.

Zhou Yun's expression grew slightly puzzled.

Why was Mephiston paying such close attention to the other fourteen Shechi Saint-Gilgames Champions?

With his psychic power, he could obliterate this group of gene-thieves in a three-to-seven split.

In three seconds, Mephiston could dismantle the thieves into seven pieces of Original Recipe Chicken and still coat them in sweet-and-sour sauce.

Zhou Yun pondered for a while but could not fathom Mephiston's behavior.

The star Balor of the Bar System hung alone above the sandy sky, its crimson scar bleeding toxic radiation.

Hot sand battered Zhou Yun's face; even through the Rogue-DX suit, it caused him emotional discomfort.

He opened the Door of Anywhere again; the scene of Shechi Fortress appeared behind it, and he stepped through.

Mephiston's psychic sense stirred slightly; his gaze flickered toward a nearby dune.

He faintly sensed a gaze had been cast upon him—fleeting, elusive.

But when Mephiston turned his eyes toward it, the gaze vanished without a sound.

Who? An illusion? Or His Holiness Saint Doraemon?

Could he not have infiltrated the group, but instead followed us silently?

Mephiston broke into a light sweat—he had never noticed anything until now, only catching the faintest trace.

"Azaha!" The roar of Three-Claw Kaelen rang out as his bullets whistled through the air.

Silver-tinged water oozed from the desert, emitting a soft crackling sound. Three-Claw Kaelen's bullets struck the water—but had no effect.

The Gen-Wei soldiers dodged, occasionally using their blades to temporarily repel the silver liquid.

The pure-blood gene-thieves could only flee—their biological blades dared not touch the liquid.

Thirst-Water!

Mephiston recognized the liquid seeping from the desert.

No child of Bar would mistake this for ordinary water.

This was Thirst-Water—every child of Bar knew to fear it.

It was said to be an ancient war artifact: appearing as ordinary water, yet possessing sentience and basic intelligence.

Anyone who drank or touched it would instantly be drained of moisture, turning into a desiccated corpse and powder.

Even Astartes and gene-thieves could not escape its fate.

The Gene-Thief Bishop roared; his augmented brain matter glowed blue as his immense psychic power crushed half the Thirst-Water into the ground.

But the other half surged forward with lightning speed, latching onto the largest Abomination in the group.

The Abomination, massive but dim-witted, had no time to react.

The Thirst-Water clung to its body; it let out a piercing, shrill scream, beads of glistening fluid oozing from its arms as half its body withered.

Mephiston slowly raised a finger and released a precise burst of psychic energy.

The psychic force roared, blasting the Thirst-Water clinging to the Abomination away.

At that moment, half the Abomination's body was as shriveled as a desert mummy; it lay writhing on the ground, moaning.

Only the gene-thieves' formidable vitality kept it alive.

!. ead

Mephiston manipulated his cognitive distortion to display a suitably guilty expression, as if pained by his companion's grave injury.

"It's my fault," Mephiston said, voice trembling.

Three-Claw Kaelen stepped forward, clapped Mephiston on the shoulder, and comforted him: "Not your fault—who could've expected Thirst-Water to surface here? You did well."

"We are brothers of the same blood, bearing the same duty and responsibility. The appearance of Thirst-Water isn't anyone's fault. You expelled it promptly—you've done enough."

The Gene-Thief Bishop, Ling Nao, Mephiston, nodded slightly, knelt on one knee, and used his psychic energy to heal the Abomination:

"Perhaps I can teach you some psychic techniques."

Hearing this, Mephiston couldn't help but smile slightly.

He knew the Abomination's injuries were too severe—the Bishop's psychic energy could not heal it, only barely sustain its life.

Yet strangely, the Gene-Thief Bishop seemed unwilling to abandon the Abomination.

Indeed, fifteen Shechi Saint-Gilgames Champions—this number itself held unique significance.

Mephiston's covert substitution of one had likely already disrupted the ritual.

Thinking this, Mephiston cooperated with the Gene-Thief Bishop, using his psychic energy to lift the dying Abomination, and continued walking into the desert's depths.

Yet this time, Mephiston felt far more at ease.

First, he knew the ritual had been disrupted by him; second,

His Holiness Saint Doraemon was surely lurking nearby, watching the group at all times.

Hot coals burned in the restaurant, spitting sparks.

A two-meter-long juvenile fire-scorpion lay horizontally on the grill, sizzling as it roasted over the flames.

The four-armed restaurant owner stared intently: two hands rotated the grill, two others finely adjusted the flame, not daring to slacken.

The juvenile fire-scorpion's meat was tender; one second too long made it tough, one second too short left it raw—even a master chef like the owner needed full concentration to cook it properly.

The other gene-thieves around him held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

Seizing the moment, the owner used his clawed arms to pry open the scorpion's shell and sprinkled secret spices over the snowy-white meat.

Instantly, the air filled with the sweet aroma of scorpion flesh and the fiery scent of spices.

All the gene-thieves in the restaurant involuntarily swallowed saliva—this scent was overwhelmingly tempting.

But the restaurant owner's face remained stern; his four powerful arms lifted the grill.

The gene-thieves quickly cleared a path, letting him step slowly toward Zhou Yun, seated at the table.

THUD!!

The massive roasted fire-scorpion was placed before Zhou Yun on the table.

The entire table wobbled violently, nearly toppling.

The restaurant owner glared, eyes bulging, and demanded:

"Is this portion enough? Will it finally fill you up?!"

Zhou Yun stared at the enormous juvenile fire-scorpion, falling into brief silence.

Then he shook his head, pried open the shell, and said:

"Don't be fooled by its size—once you remove the shell, there's barely any meat."

As the restaurant owner and the gene-thieves stared in shock, Zhou Yun began pulling the scorpion meat from the shell and shoving it into his mouth.

The winged figure in Bai Guang's corner twitched; his fragmented voice echoed from the Warp.

Zhou Yun pieced it together and understood:

"Back then, if you'd challenged Lu Se to a meat-and-liquor contest, Lu Se would've lost."

(End of chapter)