[{"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-604":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},2265427,4422,"Chapter 604","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-604",604,"\u003Cp>Saint Guilliman stepped out from the door, his figure veiled in radiance; he gave his wings a slight shake to prevent feathers from brushing against the doorframe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Gene-Prime heard Clone Fugan’s little joke, but unlike when he spoke to Zhou Yun, he showed no reaction—only a calm glance at Fugan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you hope to use such jokes to make us seem close?” Saint Guilliman asked softly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fugan’s sly smile instantly faded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Chemos is a world with extremely low risk tolerance; its countless inhabitants walk a perilous tightrope—any waste of resources, any minor mistake, could collapse an entire community.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That planet shaped you, just as Macragge left ambition in Guilliman, Caliban left savagery in Leman, and Chemos left you with insecurity.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your pursuit of perfection stems from this—your little quip just now stems from this—you try to gauge our relationship this way, to feign closeness, to gain security.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saint Guilliman’s voice was clear and calm, as if speaking to Fugan, yet also to Fugan and the Sor and Alcines behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fugan wore an expression of boredom, glancing sidelong—but no further portal opened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is Leman still jungling?” Fugan asked, raising an eyebrow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Leman is still jungling,” Saint Guilliman replied with a nod and a smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Leman is still jungling!” Guilliman sighed, rubbing his temples.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leman might now be the most content of all the Primarchs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He spends his days ferrying his Seraphim across the galaxy, rescuing worlds ravaged by Chaos or xenos, and retrieving scattered Dark Angels from the ruins of Caliban’s fall—even neglecting to manage his own Chapter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman could only smile bitterly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On one hand, he was satisfied that Leman avoided Imperial politics; on the other, he longed for a brother to share his burdens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dante already bore half the Empire’s administration to its limit—if one more task were added, he feared Dante would leap from the Angel’s Keep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ephraim was still too green in governance—capable as a secretary, but not as a leader.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Change-Spirit, that mischievous demon, was a genius at administration—but deliberately sabotaged everything, forcing Guilliman to spend effort sorting through the chaos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After much thought, he needed one of his own brothers to shoulder the burden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leman was out of the question; Saint Guilliman was too hard to trick.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman glanced at Fugan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fugan had no idea Guilliman was already eyeing him—he was still speaking to Saint Guilliman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What about Zhou Yun? Won’t he come?” Fugan asked; truthfully, he hadn’t seen Zhou Yun in some time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He already knows every word we will speak, every event we will face, every decision we will make—even before we ourselves know them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saint Guilliman said softly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t burden him with these repetitive matters—a critical moment draws near; he must maintain emotional stability.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Repetitive matters. A critical moment. Emotional stability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sor’s expression grew puzzled—he did not understand these terms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could see Fugan was also half-confused, and even Guilliman didn’t seem fully grasping it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet none of the three Primarchs discussed what exactly had happened to Saint Dora—the confusion remained buried in Sor’s mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sit,” Guilliman gestured to the two Primarchs to take seats before his desk; their war council was far simpler than Sor imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No dedicated chamber, no elaborate rituals or grand banquets—only a quiet exchange in this plain office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even Guilliman had not prepared chairs—he seemed to expect the two Primarchs to fetch their own from the side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sor and Alcines were not so clueless; since Saint Guilliman brought no guards, it fell to them to handle such trivial tasks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even as he spoke, Guilliman never paused his work; after Saint Guilliman and Fugan sat, he immediately looked up from his papers, rubbed his temple with one finger, and swiftly reached for the folder beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Guilliman’s motion hesitated—a fleeting instant—as if uncertain where the file lay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To mortals, this was perfectly normal; to Primarchs, it defied their superhuman cognition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their minds were forged by the Emperor’s bio-alchemy, swift beyond the limits of the material universe, reaching a supernatural plane.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any hesitation, glitch, or delay was unthinkable for a Primarch’s transcendent intellect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that instant of Guilliman’s hesitation, Fugan had already identified the file he sought—and placed it before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re too tired, brother.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fugan spoke with feigned seriousness, leaving it unclear whether he cared for Guilliman, mocked him, or both:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You could delegate these tasks to others.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Many tasks can only be done by me,” Guilliman said, dividing the papers into three: one kept, two passed to Saint Guilliman and Fugan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s why I sometimes hate you—you think too highly of yourself,” Fugan murmured, his upper lip curling slightly. “Father has more than just you as a loyal son.”\u003C\u002Fp>",776,"2026-06-19T20:02:16.510Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ae56aee9bf6d1b36e3fc86cd3fed589bbbff465726faa03ddb4311c202d24a04","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-605","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-603",711,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-doraemo-cover.jpg"]