Chapter 611

I'm truly full; I can't eat another bite.

Zhou Mingrui looked at the mountain of food on the table and sat down, unable to refuse the generous offer.

Not only did the chefs sneak bites in the kitchen, but even he could join in—somehow, he genuinely loved the work atmosphere here.

If this weren't a reincarnation-space mission world, he'd quit his company right now and get away from that human walking sperm cannon of a boss.

Especially since his salary was paid in USD and meals and lodging were covered.

Recalling the moment before he entered the reincarnation space, he'd been working overtime at the office, so exhausted his eyelids were fighting each other; probably from sheer fatigue, he'd collapsed at his desk, and when he opened his eyes, he was here.

It felt as beautiful as a dream—he guessed that when the mission ended, the dream would be over.

But as a salary slave who worked nine to six, seven, eight, nine, or even ten every day, and whose time was swallowed by work, meals, sleep, and commuting, even this dream was worth it.

Why did he keep insisting this was a dream?

"It's fine—have some afternoon tea and keep me company~" The silver-haired girl giggled, her voice like tinkling silver bells, effortlessly lifting his mood:

"Such a vast modern city, yet we met in different places—it must be God's—no, fate's design~"

She pinched the mint soda straw between her thumb and index finger, spinning it along with the long, stubborn strand of hair on her head; the ice cubes clinked crisply against the glass.

"You agree, right? Hehe~" Nyaa-ko blinked and shot him a wink.

What else could this be but a dream?

A moe-style beauty approaching him out of the blue to treat him to a meal—even with his slightly above-average looks—was absurd.

Zhou Mingrui blamed it all on that damn Taichu Group: after the neighboring Wu and Ya corporations were suddenly acquired, his sperm-cannon boss had taken on a flood of emergency outsourcing projects.

Day after day of overtime—even a robot would find life monotonous, repetitive, and dull.

Ah. Under such torment, his imagination had grown stronger than ever.

Just let this shitty company suffer a natural disaster or a power struggle straight out of a TV drama! If that's too much, even asset restructuring would do!

'Full and warm, thoughts turn to lust—so after satisfying hunger, this is the next scene?' Zhou Mingrui glanced at the chocolate mousse on the table and pointed with his finger:

"Can I have this?"

He'd have to activate his second stomach for dessert.

"I kinda want to try this too—I've never had this dessert before," Nyaa-ko said, frowning in thought.

This was awkward.

Zhou Mingrui curled his toes, then casually pointed to another slice of Turkish yogurt ice cream.

"This..."

"I'd also like to taste this—let's order another portion."

Nyaa-ko smiled apologetically.

She pulled out her wallet, shook out a few coins, and her smile visibly froze.

With his enhanced vision, he could clearly see a flicker of panic and guilt in her emerald-green eyes.

'I'm such an idiot,' Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but inhale sharply.

Why couldn't he control this greedy mouth of his?!

"Actually, I'd like some lemon water—could you get me some?" Zhou Mingrui pointed to the complimentary lemon water standard in Western restaurants.

Zhou Mingrui felt his words didn't ease the awkwardness—they made her even more embarrassed, her head lowering as if overwhelmed by shame and discomfort, her cheeks flushing red.

Sorry, take back what I just said.

This kind of mortifying feeling—only reality could produce it.

"Um..." Nyaa-ko scratched her head shyly. "If you don't mind..."

She picked up the knife, sliced the cake in half, then used a spoon to scoop out a curl of matcha ice cream—just enough for one bite—and halved it with the spoon.

She leaned forward slightly, her pale arm extending, holding the spoon out toward Zhou Mingrui's mouth.

"Here, let's each take a bite?" Nyaa-ko tilted her head and smiled, opening her mouth: "Mr. Zhou, ahh~."

Zhou Mingrui stared straight at the spoon at his lips, his mouth trembling.

"Can't you? But I'm out of money," Nyaa-ko suddenly said, sounding downcast.

"Yes!" Zhou Mingrui, battling an inexplicable wave of shame and dissonance, opened his mouth and bit down.

Damn it, this scenario can only be a dream!

The hotel restaurant used arched floor-to-ceiling windows, and with sunset approaching, golden light spilled across the table.

Nyaa-ko squinted, retracted her spoon, and wore a satisfied expression.

Under Zhou Mingrui's visibly tense state, she used the spoon—still coated with traces of food and saliva—to scoop up the remaining half of the ice cream.

Wait!?!

"Mmm~" Nyaa-ko bit the spoon, covering her cheek with her left hand, wearing an expression of bliss: "Even the lodging has desserts this delicious? Amazing."

Unbelievable.

Zhou Mingrui, raised with traditional values, wasn't rigid—but faced with this situation, he couldn't help wanting to avoid such bizarre real-life developments.

He glanced around, seriously searching for an excuse.

"Aren't you eating the cake?" Nyaa-ko asked.

Zhou Mingrui tapped the table with his knuckles, steadied his composure, and smiled: "Thank you for your hospitality, Young Lady—I must return to work..."

Due to the hotel's outdated style and high accommodation costs, there weren't many guests—but around mealtime, a few diners had arrived.

"Zhou Ge, the boss said you're off today."

Huai Shi walked up to the table, pulled out a rose treated with liquid nitrogen, shattered it, and scattered the fragments over the heart-shaped cake.

Zhou Mingrui: "?"

This considerate scene came too suddenly, shattering the perfectly reasonable excuse he'd just crafted.

Huai Shi, haven't you forgotten we're just visitors, and this is just a dungeon world?!

Faced with Zhou Mingrui's clearly questioning gaze, Huai Shi averted his eyes.

He placed his hand at his throat, took several deep breaths with noticeable heaving of his chest, and opened his lips to say: "I'm actually a girl."

A sweet, clear voice slipped into his ears; under Zhou Mingrui's utterly stunned stare, Huai Shi forced a grotesque smile.

"I wish you both a pleasant meal."

"?"

Not bros!

In Zhou Mingrui's dumbfounded expression, Huai Shi left only a hurriedly retreating back.

"Zhou—"

At Nyaa's call, Zhou Mingrui slowly turned his head, looking at the girl across from him, fists clenched, courage gathered, her spiky hair standing straight up.

"Are you free tonight?" Nyaa asked.

Zhou Mingrui forcibly forced a polite smile.

If I say no, will you believe me?

Nighttime, the Dragon Veins of the Multiverse Earth converge, their timelines intersecting in nuclear-blasted New York City.

The Manhattan Bridge is a suspension bridge spanning the East River, connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn.

Crack—ding dong!

Magazine loaded, chambered.

"OK."

Wei De De raised his pistol, aiming at the two figures walking ahead on the Manhattan Bridge, targeting Zhou Mingrui's back: "I'm going to kill that gentle, slow-witted male lead!"

"Fuck, put the gun down, you idiot!" Logan rushed forward and severed Deadpool's arm.

"Has he been under any recent stress?" Constantine's lip twitched. "His personality's already turning antisocial."

"His stripper girlfriend broke up with him," Logan thrust out a claw and drove Wei De De's other hand into the wall.

"I just can't stand Nyaa-chan being swept away by some random guy!" Wei De De screamed in despair:

"A female character who isn't Black, isn't gay, and carries no political correctness just falls in love?!"

"You're a virgin screenwriter who's never dated!"

"Let me protect the aesthetic future of the Marvel Cinematic Universe!"

The aesthetics beneath the skin—tentacles, Outer Gods—are simply perfect.

Constantine rolled his eyes, instinctively pulling out a cigarette, then glancing at the golden-haired little girl behind him, who stared at him with all three of her eyes, fixed and unblinking.

"Fine," Constantine crumpled the cigarette pack and shoved it into his bag. "You're sure we won't be detected? Like by…?"

He didn't speak the name, afraid of being sensed.

"This tastes just like the sweets young Emiya Mama used to make, but it's still missing something…" Abigail ate her shaved ice, her face glowing with happiness.

"As long as you hold the Spear of Destiny, even the simplest concealment spell or disguise won't expose you."

"It's a supreme-level artifact capable of warping reality."

Hearing the answer he wanted again, Constantine clutched the Spear of Destiny against his chest, his inner unease and agitation calming somewhat.

"But this thing keeps heating up."

"That's probably because the Creator is nearby."

Abigail said casually: "After all, we're in New York, during the Holy Grail War."

Indeed.

Our group has been hiding right under their noses all along; now we're just using a simple invisibility spell combined with the Spear of Destiny's concealment effect.

Fortunately, as long as we stay within ten meters of the Spear of Destiny,

our magical power and spells function without suppression, giving us considerable advantage.

Meanwhile, Logan, now an Heroic Spirit, can unleash extraordinary combat power in this environment where supernatural phenomena are heavily suppressed.

According to the plan agreed upon with the Outer God Nyaa, we first lure the force known as the "Cycle Space" into battle against the Multiverse Devourers who have seized the Holy Sanctuary and Stark Tower.

Second, we secretly assist Nyaa in altering the Holy Grail Ritual; combining Constantine's magical expertise, we make Logan and the girl named 'Abigail' official participants, gathering the Stigma fragments and shards of the First Heaven, to bury the Multiverse Devourers in an eternal seal.

Constantine watched Nyaa skipping toward Zhou the waiter, hands behind her back, her eyes growing more wary.

'What exactly are you plotting…?'

Deadpool Wei De De is a simple-minded lunatic; Logan, compared to Wei De De, is normal—but still incapable of outmaneuvering such a being.

From the very start, I never trusted beings whose nature is equally insane.

But under current circumstances, cooperating with them temporarily is the only option.

But—

Constantine shifted his gaze to the waiter named 'Zhou Mingrui.'

It was because of this man—or rather, this 'Heroic Spirit'—that the Stigma collection plan, which began two nights ago, suddenly halted; we've been tracking him for two full days.

'Who the hell are you?'

The word 'desperate' perfectly describes Constantine's current state.

"Did you just get jealous?"

Wei De De poked Constantine's chest with his baby-like arm:

"Marvel and DC never merged—you better remember that!"

Do you really think her art style fits Marvel's?

Constantine felt he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. "If you keep spouting that garbage, I'll cancel the spell and turn you back into that ugly face."

"Under special circumstances, I can tolerate you," Wei De De quickly pulled out a Green Lantern ring. "Keanu."

Time to give this bastard a lesson he won't forget.

The magic in Constantin's hand had just gathered, but his expression suddenly changed; he widened his eyes and stared toward the direction where Nyaa-ko and Zhou Mingrui had been.

Or rather, even farther— from here all the way to the southern tip of Brooklyn, the location of Coney Island Beach.

No one paid attention to Wei De De; even Abigail paused her dessert-eating, and from the lock-shaped aperture on her forehead, a deep purple eyeball surfaced from the darkness.

Since when had this city—once teeming with lethal danger yet unrelated to ordinary people, believed to be protected by remnants of divine benevolence—fallen into deathly silence?

The fish, mid-leap as they splashed water from the sea surface, froze in place.

The waves on the sea surface were also frozen, as if unaffected by gravity.

It was almost as if time had stopped.

"R'lyeh," Abigail murmured: "R'lyeh has risen."

What?!

Constantin blinked, then suddenly recalled the descriptions of R'lyeh.

Cthulhu, the mighty Old One named in the Cthulhu Mythos, when he descended to Earth from Saturn with his cultists, built a great stone city on a continent in the Pacific Ocean—this city was called R'lyeh.

"Risen?"

"R'lyeh has always existed in this universe, as a stone cast by the Outer Gods to test the waters." 【Note 1】

Abigail gazed at the night sky where the constellations had shifted, speaking softly.

Until now, she had been a responder—whether Constantin or Nyaa-ko asked, she answered, providing the knowledge and aid they needed.

Thus, even Wolverine Logan held her in high regard.

"It's about to be awakened."

As she spoke, ripples echoed, even the air rippled with waves.

Then—

From beneath the sea emerged humanoid "fish" creatures: their eyes bulged like frogs', their skin covered in scale-like patterns, their necks bore fin-like structures, and membranes like webbing stretched between their fingers.

Chaos erupted across New York City, as if the entire planet's crust had begun to shake violently!

"Zhou!" Nyaa-ko's pupils shrank; suddenly, she embraced Zhou Mingrui.

A snapped bridge cable shot through the air, shattering the concrete roadway—but Nyaa-ko's lunge had just saved Zhou Mingrui from danger.

"Young Lady…"

Zhou Mingrui opened his mouth, but the next second, the bridge collapsed and shattered amid the tremors!

The two, still embracing, plunged into the sudden river, while simultaneously, a deep green shadow— vaguely humanoid, bearing wings, and possessing a head like an octopus bristling with countless tentacles—silently engulfed the entire city.

"Hee-hee~~~"

Nyaa-ko drove her crowbar through a Deep One's skull, slung it over her shoulder, then, drenched in wet clothes and hair, flashed back to her previous position.

"Neither the evil-god radar nor the artificial DNA scan can identify who it is—so let this familiar but off-kilter friend keep Cthulhu company for a while."

Nyaa-ko stretched her neck and grinned happily: "One less interference—now we can continue saving the world!"

"By the way, doesn't he have a Master?"

Nyaa-ko spoke casually: "Why is no one speaking?"

Including Constantin, several people turned to look at the spot behind her.

Nyaa-ko tapped her palm and laughed: "Looks like I failed~ What can you do~"

She slowly turned her head toward the riverbank behind her, waved the crowbar in her hand, dispelled the concealment spell, stepped out from the shadowless corner, and walked toward the figure that had just climbed ashore.

"Who could this mental construct, condensed from a dream, possibly be~? Surely not those little cuties from the Dream Realm~?"

At this moment, Zhou Mingrui was coughing, as if struggling to expel polluted water from his lungs.

"Young Lady…"

His face was pale as he stared into the turbulent river.

"I'm right here!" Nyaa-ko raised her crowbar, preparing to launch Cosmic CQC.

Zhou Mingrui turned his head, his eyes filled with relief.

"You're okay?"

"Of course."

Nyaa-ko's lips curved; she gripped the crowbar tighter and rushed toward Zhou Mingrui, under his startled gaze.

She hugged him tightly.

"Fool! I was so worried about you!"

Zhou Mingrui, feeling Nyaa-ko's stiff body, was at a loss.

Likewise, Nyaa-ko stared at the edge of the embankment behind him—where Cthulhu's head, still clutching octopus tentacles, emerged from the river, and five figures were shrinking the massive corpse—she too was at a loss.

Those five figures were:

Great Detective Sherlock Moriarty, Mad Adventurer Germain Sparrow, Wealthy D'Artagnan, True God The Fool, Magician Merlin Hermes

Their gazes lingered on Zhou Mingrui for a moment, then, expressionless, they turned in unison to glance at Nyaa-ko, picked up their bulky spoils, and stepped into the air, vanishing.

Amid the intensifying chaos in the city, a sharp, furious roar suddenly rang out.

"You're right—why care about the reincarnation space's mission when there's a Holy Grail?!"

He was a rare tech-enhanced reincarnator; after his teammates were betrayed and killed by an alliance he trusted, he had descended into madness:

"All of you die!"

Iron rain sprayed, crimson light erupted—a stray bullet zipped toward Zhou Mingrui, but was pinched mid-air by a slender hand, just ten centimeters from his temple.

"." Nyaa-ko watched that hand slowly vanish into thin air, the curve of her lips fading.

"Could you let go of me now, Young Lady?"

"My apologies."

Unexpected, yet perfectly logical?

The only silver lining was that, given her status and disguise—and the meticulousness of leaving a sliver of flesh on Constantine's Spear of Fate, borrowing the concept of obscuration—she would at most be mistaken for a Reincarnator.

After all

Silver hair, a cowlick, a human girl—could even the World-Eater possibly link her to writhing Chaos?

"Crowbar, silver hair, beautiful girl—this isn't Nyaiko?" Su Lin lowered his telescope and rubbed his chin: "But her flesh and soul levels are identical to an ordinary human's."

"Then she's just an ordinary human?" Huai Shi wondered how Su Lin recognized her, since the girl didn't have those big anime eyes: "Still, these traits do resemble her."

"You've been a real-life otaku for so long you can't even recognize a 2D girl?" Su Lin scanned Huai Shi up and down, clicking his tongue:

"Someone like you, a third-life otaku, belongs in the Heresy Tribunal."

What terrifying things is this God saying?!

"Do you know her?" The raven set down its telescope perched on Huai Shi's head.

"The 2D paper form of the Outer God Nyarlathotep," Su Lin declared firmly:

"I've got a girlfriend and a wife who are both paper girls—how could I mistake her?"

Old otaku. This déjà vu—Spiritual Judgment was a critical success.

It was just odd: back in Type-Moon, the pigeon deliberately staged a World-Eater invasion, making it seem real, just to scare off these folks who kept meddling with cosmic progress.

The results proved effective—apparently even the Outer Gods from Arad vanished and fled.

How did this guy end up in Marvel?

"."

Su Lin lifted his wrist, stared blankly at the task before him, then snapped his head up: "You @! #"