Chapter 168
Plip, plop. Sporadic raindrops fell from the sky.
A cold dampness touched their cheeks.
“…Rain?”
Murong Miao lifted her hand instinctively to shield herself—
—only to feel a searing stickiness.
She looked down. Her fingers were coated in yellow-green liquid, reeking of decay and burning through her skin with terrifying speed.
In seconds, her finger turned purplish-black, flesh corroding away to expose bone. The corrosion was spreading.
The crowd recoiled in horror.
Murong Miao hesitated only a moment before decisively drawing her dagger and severing the finger, stopping the rot.
Gripping her blade, she roared: “TAKE COVER!!! THE RAIN IS CORROSIVE!!!”
Not far away, the cloaked “Mu Dongsheng” stood motionless, his frail frame rigid. The Wasteland Revenant before him had already disintegrated into ash.
His body seemed to have become a vessel for something far more grotesque. From his form, the grinning mouth expanded—multiplying, coiling, until it blotted out the entire sky.
The clouds and heavens were replaced by countless splitting lips and rotting flesh.
“……”
“…Yun Wen. It’s Yun Wen!”
Most present were battle-hardened mercenaries. They recognized this instantly.
S-class pollutant Yun Wen had descended.
Yi Chunqing stared at Mu Dongsheng’s body, lips trembling: “I wondered how Captain Mu survived… So he was parasitized by Yun Wen…”
Those parasitized by pollutants didn’t die—but they weren’t truly alive either.
His knees buckled, collapsing to the ground as his cane clattered away, all will to live gone.
“Grandpa Qing, snap out of it! We have to survive to save Captain Mu!” Wang Li bellowed, hoisting Yicun Qing over his shoulder as the panicked mercenaries scrambled for cover.
But in this endless wasteland, where could they hide?
Those with defensive abilities erected barriers against the corrosive rain, but even the strongest shields crumbled instantly under an S-class pollutant’s assault.
Just then—
A gentle voice called from the small porridge stall:
“Over here! There’s cover!”
Everyone turned.
Standing there was Boss Jian—wearing a floral apron, holding a bowl of porridge in one hand and a ladle in the other, flanked by a majestic large dog, his face stunning and his gaze resolute.
Everyone: “……???”
Wait, is this a joke?
Their eyes darted skeptically over Jian Yunlan.
Sure, Boss Jian’s cooking was divine, and everyone called him a god, but deep down, they knew he was just an ordinary food stall owner—not an actual deity.
Was his idea of “cover” that tiny tricycle?
That thing could barely fit two people—there were hundreds of them here!
But Jian Yunlan’s expression was firm, his confidence unwavering.
He didn’t seem to be joking.
Wang Li scratched his head: “Cover? Boss Jian, your stall’s just a tricycle. Just protect yourself—don’t worry about us. We mercenaries are tough, we won’t die…”
Jian Yunlan couldn’t be bothered to argue.
As a responsible food stall owner, he couldn’t just watch his customers die. In this barren wasteland, where could they hide?
The answer was…
With one hand, Jian Yunlan opened his personal pocket dimension. With the other, he effortlessly lifted the nearly two-meter-tall Wang Li like a sack of rice and tossed him inside:
“Get in there.”
Inside the pocket dimension, Niu Tou and Wang Li stared at each other: “?”
Outside, a flash of white light—and Wang Li vanished.
Everyone: “…”
Holy shit.
What kind of magic trick is this?!
“I have a pocket dimension—it’s another world inside,” Jian Yunlan smiled. “It’s perfectly normal for a food stall owner to have one, right?”
As he spoke, he casually picked up the unconscious Yi Chunqing and stuffed him in too. A few bystanders, still dumbfounded, were also grabbed and tossed in.
Everyone: “….”
“Normal.”
This was kind of insane.
But with disaster looming, there was no time to overthink.
All they could do now was trust Boss Jian!
Besides, given how easily he’d just manhandled a two-meter-tall brute, a pocket dimension didn’t seem that far-fetched! People exchanged glances:
“I knew Boss Jian was some hidden expert the moment I saw him!”
“Amazing at cooking, ridiculously strong—how are the rest of us supposed to compete?!”
“Do you think his pocket dimension has unlimited seafood porridge? Slurp slurp.”
The chatter cut off abruptly.
…Not because everyone disappeared.
But because Jian Yunlan, frustrated by the slow pace of tossing people in one by one, expanded the entrance of his pocket dimension. Like a giant cloth sack, it unfurled over the crowd—then GULP—swallowed everyone whole.
Then let out a satisfied burp.
Pocket Dimension: “Burp.” (Full.)
Inside, Niu Tou stood in the fields, hoe in hand, staring at the sudden influx of people.
Niu Tou and the mercenaries blinked at each other.
After a long pause, Ox-Head scratched his head and asked sheepishly:
“Since you’re all here anyway… wanna plow a few acres before leaving?”
Everyone: “…”
Wow.
Classic Boss Jian.
Even his pocket dimension was a farming simulator!
*
Meanwhile, outside the pocket dimension.
With everyone safely inside, Jian Yunlan dusted off his hands and sighed in relief.
Now, all that was left was…
Dealing with the current problem.
He turned to face the monstrous entity in the distance.
The giant mouth in the sky seemed to sense something, slowly rotating until its countless lips all pointed at Jian Yunlan, emitting a low, guttural whine.
How to solve this?
Jian Yunlan looked at the blood-red sky, the cracked earth, then at his two porridge buckets.
After careful consideration, he made a decisive judgment and dramatically pointed forward:
“Lord Taotie, go!”
Taotie: “…”
The countless giant mouths: “……”
The silver-white dog gave Jian Yunlan a sidelong glance, then looked at the distant mass of mouths, his eyes filled with palpable disdain—as if saying, “This filthy third-rate trash isn’t worth my effort.”
Taotie was lazy by nature, reserving his energy only for things he cared about—like protecting Jian Yunlan. If Jian Yunlan wasn’t in danger, he couldn’t care less about others dying. That’s why he’d been napping earlier while the mercenaries panicked.
Besides…
The dog’s gaze flicked dismissively toward the mouths.
He’d seen this thing yesterday.
It was a troublemaker, but harmless—just a glutton. Toss it a couple of porridge bowls, and it’d probably behave.
But the next second, Taotie’s golden pupils narrowed. Without turning, he lunged, his teeth clamping around a tentacle that had shot toward them from nowhere.
The moment Taotie touched it, the tentacle disintegrated—but not before he saw its tip:
A sharp bone spike, dripping with corrosive venom, aimed straight at Jian Yunlan.
Taotie’s gaze turned icy as he stared at the distant mouths.
Jian Yunlan, despite his divine cooking skills and natural strength, was helpless against a pollutant like this.
Unaware of what had just happened, Jian Yunlan blinked at Taotie in surprise: “Lord Taotie, our company hasn’t mistreated you! Why are you eating random things? Are you that hungry?!”
Taotie: “……”
Normally, he’d snap back with something like “How dare you disrespect this lord?” or “Silence!”
But this time, he said nothing.
For some reason, the sight of that tentacle’s remains unsettled him.
—If he hadn’t blocked it, that spike would’ve pierced Jian Yunlan.
A chill ran down Taotie’s spine.
Dread was an unfamiliar feeling for the unrestrained, flamboyant ancient beast. But now, he felt it—the terror of nearly losing something precious.
With that dread came fragmented memories: flashes of a river, a desolate cave, labored breathing, voices, shouts—even sobs. Amid the chaos, the only clear sound was Jian Yunlan’s voice, urgently telling him to run.
As if this had happened long, long ago.
But… he couldn’t remember.
Why couldn’t he remember? It felt important—so how had he forgotten?
The dog flicked his tail irritably.
“……”
“First, deal with the present.”
A sinister wind gathered, swirling into a vortex—and the silver-white dog vanished.
In his place stood a man in ornate Warring States-era robes.
Pale light and wind wreathed him, his silver hair tied high, golden eyes cold. The Taotie patterns on his robes glowed blood-red, and the skeletal pauldrons on his shoulders seemed terrifyingly ominous.
Like the King of Hell returned from the underworld.
In his hand was a pitch-black halberd.
…The shaft was slender, intricately carved with cursed inscriptions, pulsing with crimson light—as if ignited by living flesh.
The world fell silent. Even the S-class pollutant in the sky ceased its noise. The only sound in the barren wasteland was the halberd’s low hum—like the sound of Taotie devouring the heavens.
But soon, another noise cut through:
[Ding dong!]
[Congratulations, Employee #1, for unlocking your destined artifact—[Halberd of Greed, Wrath, Delusion, and Arrogance]! Wield it to support Boss Jian’s food stall empire!]
Taotie: “……”
Taotie: “?”
