[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te":3,"chapter-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-2":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","I'm in Warhammer, Please Don't Praise the Doraemon Machine God",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2264825,4422,"Chapter 2: I, Guilliman, Need Money!","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-2",2,"\u003Cp>“Then I am still the Lord of Ultramar, Roboute Guilliman.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the figure in the white light once again insist it was the former Master of the Ninth Adeptus Astartes—the Primarch Saint Guilliman—Zhou Yun’s eye twitched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, I’m Guilliman. I’m not dead—I’m in stasis. I need fifty credits to fund Belisarius Cawl’s research on the Fate Armor to save me. V me 50 now, and when I return, I’ll make you Lord of the Sun.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saint Guilliman, one of the twenty-one Primarchs created by the Emperor, was scattered across the galaxy by the Warp at the moment of his birth, just like his brothers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Primarch landed in the Bal System, not far from Asford.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This Primarch, who descended upon the crimson wastelands of Bal, bore a pair of pure white wings, like the angels of legend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Saint Guilliman’s own nobility and virtue befit the name of angel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun would gladly accept Saint Guilliman’s guidance—if the Warp entity before him truly was Saint Guilliman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Warhammer, wings don’t always mean Saint Guilliman—they could just as easily be the Chaos Daemon Lord Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as a double-headed eagle isn’t always the Imperium—it could be the Weaver, Carlos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My loyalty to the God-Emperor is as clear as sun and moon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You Warp-born fool, don’t try to trick me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun spoke with righteous indignation, his face full of moral fervor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had only recently arrived in the 41st millennium when, half-asleep, he encountered this winged figure in the white light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure had persistently claimed to be Saint Guilliman, insisting it would guide Zhou Yun to fulfill his destined mission.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Zhou Yun couldn’t shake the feeling this was some Changer of Ways come to mock him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the Warhammer universe, any “wise old mentor” lurking by your side is suspect—anyone with half a brain suspects it’s a Chaos corruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, systems, sudden love interests, cultivation techniques and weapons, green vials, castles atop gray mist—all these are suspected signs of Chaos corruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Systems and mentors reek of Tzeentch; sudden love interests and divine descents suggest Slaanesh; green vials and pills hint at Nurgle; techniques and weapons point to Khorne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the fourth-dimensional pocket on his belly, Zhou Yun always suspected, might be the work of Wa Banxian.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Friend, I am truly Saint Guilliman. I need your help.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The galaxy will be torn asunder; Bal will be drowned in blood; Terra will be defiled by abominations from the Warp.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I need you to go to Bal, to stand beside my corpse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you follow my guidance, I shall return to the material universe.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The winged figure in the white light still flickered at the corner of Zhou Yun’s vision, muttering prophecies of dubious truth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The galaxy will be torn asunder—the Great Rift opens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bal will be drowned in blood—the Tyranid invasion of Bal, the Battle of Bal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abominations from the Warp defile Terra—well, that’s not exactly new.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All of these align with “Saint Guilliman’s” prophecy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But what of the time when Erebus resurrected Horus?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That sort of thing carries a thick Warp stench.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if he spoke some truth, Zhou Yun couldn’t even leave this hive city, let alone travel to Bal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if he believed him, it would do him no good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, the figure was half-phantom, so it didn’t interfere with his scavenging.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let the galaxy tear apart—it’s the Primarchs’, the Astartes’, and the Emperor’s problem. Just don’t mess with his scavenging.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the danger he mentioned ahead,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun hesitated briefly, deciding caution was best.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled a vial of liquid from his fourth-dimensional pocket and dripped it onto his fingertip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Friend, I am truly Saint Guilliman.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Please believe me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The winged figure in the white light circled around Zhou Yun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Zhou Yun ignored him, continuing to pick through the rubble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He found another section of pheromone transport pipe among the debris, grabbed it, and shoved it into his pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Following the direction of the pipe’s extension, he noticed all exposed pheromone pipes in the area converged toward the heart of the ruined city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This seemed to confirm his earlier suspicion: this district had once been part of the Pheromone Guild.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The quantity and quality of the broken machinery nearby surpassed any district Zhou Yun had explored before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the end of the pipes, there might even be a pheromone furnace or something similar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun gazed into the depths of the ruined city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had been buried for only a century or two—far less dangerous than cities entombed during the Dark Age of Technology or the Great Crusade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A little deeper shouldn’t be too hazardous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With that thought, Zhou Yun checked the liquid on his fingertip, confirmed it was fine, and walked toward the heart of the ruined city along the pipe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the toxic crimson sunlight dimmed slightly, Zhou Yun saw a towering, derelict machine standing atop the rubble ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The machine stood seven or eight meters tall; its steel platforms had collapsed, but the deep red tank remained upright, covered in crimson rust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun’s eyes flickered with interest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a discarded pheromone extraction transfer unit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hive city’s Pheromone Guild once used these to transport pheromone to factories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a damaged pheromone extraction transfer unit could fetch a good price.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If any residual pheromone remained inside, Zhou Yun would be that much closer to his goal: the teleporter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking this, Zhou Yun slid down the rubble and walked up to the pheromone extraction transfer unit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The massive, rusted pheromone tank—seven or eight meters tall, three or four meters wide—blocked his entire view.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He extended a finger and tapped the tank. Hollow echoes rang from within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He circled the tank a few steps and found a circular hole, one meter high—likely where a pipe had been installed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He leaned his head inside and peered in: the interior was empty, devoid of the thick gel he’d hoped for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pheromone, the Imperium’s most common fuel and chemical feedstock, normally appears as a viscous gel, used to produce antibiotics, synthetic polymers, Lho cigarettes, and even alcohol.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But evidently, when this district was abandoned, all valuable pheromone had already been shipped out, leaving only these bulky, hard-to-remove industrial machines—like the pheromone extraction transfer unit before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, for Zhou Yun’s fourth-dimensional pocket, transporting a seven-meter-tall pheromone tank was no challenge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He reached out, gripped the rusted tank, and gave a slight tug.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tank folded like a soft cloth into his palm-sized fourth-dimensional pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Item Name: Pheromone Extraction Transfer Unit]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Origin: Stygian Shield System – Asford – Mechanical Spire]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Evaluation: The heart of the Pheromone Guild, once pumping high-concentration flammable pheromone]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Manufactured: 705.M41]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Condition: Light Damage]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Value: 8,000 credits]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If any pheromone remained inside, the resale value could be even higher.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Zhou Yun no longer cared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The moment the pheromone extraction transfer unit vanished into his pocket, seven or eight figures in black robes appeared before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had been seated on the opposite side of the tank, invisible to Zhou Yun until now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They hadn’t noticed the tank had vanished, nor had they spotted Zhou Yun’s sudden appearance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun broke into a cold sweat. In this desolate, abandoned city, encountering a group of black-robed figures—was he facing a cult?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cultists who worshipped the bizarre entities of the Warp, hidden in the dark corners of the hive city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The leader among the black-robed figures raised both arms high in prayer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Praise you, Merciful Emperor!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the black-robed figures’ prayer, Zhou Yun exhaled slightly—he’d thought they were just devout Imperial Cult worshippers—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sleeves of the leader’s robe fell, revealing mottled, horned calluses on his forearms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“May your four-armed embrace, encompassing the stars, enfold us! May you bring us salvation! Merciful Four-Armed God-Emperor!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shit!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1296,"2026-06-19T20:02:14.192Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8d24d994140fc1c9753c404d52870eb1c27c83b79acc5ef5e88446297df2725c","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-3","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-1",711,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-doraemo-cover.jpg"]