I sat in the baby stroller, pondering philosophy.

Uncle De’s words left me reeling. For someone like me with only a high school education, my brain just couldn’t keep up.

Simply put—I’d been completely bamboozled.

“My stomach’s growling. Come on, I’ll treat you to noodles,” Uncle De said, pushing me toward the roadside. “Just made a few thousand bucks—plenty for a meal. Don’t be shy, little girl. Beef to the max!”

I rolled my eyes. Even loaded with beef, it was still just a bowl of noodles. He made it sound like a feast.

But honestly, Uncle De was kind. We were strangers who met by chance, yet he’d looked after me the whole way and answered so many technical questions.

Truly chivalrous. Even if he quit being a Taoist priest, he’d make a legendary knight-errant.

The noodle shop buzzed with customers, rich aroma drifting out. Though eating didn’t satisfy my hunger, I could still dine like anyone else.

“Welcome! How many… uh, two?” The waiter shot my stroller a puzzled glance. “What’ll you have? We’ve got kids’ meals—egg noodles.”

“No need. Two regular beef noodles. Extra beef.”

The waiter glanced at the Taoist-robed uncle placing the order, then at the silver-haired little loli in the stroller gnashing her teeth at him. He turned quietly:

“Two beef noodles—extra beef!”

“This guy…” I grumbled. “I hate people who judge by appearance.”

Uncle De didn’t dwell on it—clearly used to stares. He pulled a small notebook from his coat. “Enough chatter. Noodles are coming. First: this entity’s an evil spirit. You know what that is?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He flipped pages. “Tricky because its power comes from Mammon, one of Hell’s seven demons. But its survival and escape skills? All its own.”

“In plain terms,” he summarized, “a highly evasive evil spirit. Demonic power boosted its strength too.”

“So what do we do?” I asked worriedly. “We’re short on manpower. Its escape tricks have us running ragged.”

An Li wasn’t fazed by demonic power—but it didn’t matter. She chased the spirit from place to place, yet her speed lagged far behind.

“No worry,” Uncle De said calmly. “I haven’t cracked its escape ability, but I realized—we don’t need to. That demonic power? Its greatest strength… and its fatal flaw.”

I gripped my chopsticks. “How?”

He flipped to the last pages. “Its killing method relies on indirect contact. But contacts keep multiplying. Every time it ‘cleans up’ survivors, it creates more targets.”

“So the kill list just grows,” I cut in. “Endless.”

“Exactly. Before, it attacked full-force—main body and tentacles. Lately? It recklessly splits into those costume-clad figures you saw.”

He closed the notebook, accepting the bowls. “Thanks… It’s realizing current power can’t eliminate all contacts. One day, it’ll sacrifice escape ability for more demonic power. Mammon—the demon of greed. Greed only expands.”

The waiter silently set down the bowls and hurried off.

*What weird customers,* he thought. *Adult and kid acting odd, spouting chuunibyou lines. That guy in Taoist robes—cosplay at his age? Must be an otaku. Better stay clear.*

We slurped noodles in silence. I took tiny bites—food didn’t fill me, but it felt nice. Uncle De finished heartily, sipped tea, and continued:

“Mammon’s power erodes its remaining instincts. Only a trigger’s missing. I’ve spotted clues—just need final verification.”

“What is it?” I set down chopsticks. “I’ll tell the Holy See expert. Verify, then take it down.”

“No rush,” he shook his head. “One mistake, and its power surges. I’ve tracked this over a month—I know it best.” He pulled out his phone. “Add me on WeChat. I’ll message results in a day or two.”

“Sure.”

Maybe the food helped—I regained strength fast. Unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed right out.

“Finally free of this thing!”

Me—a tough guy—trapped in a baby stroller? A permanent black mark on my record.

After scanning his QR code, Uncle De glanced at my profile. “Such a cute little girl… why a tomboyish username?”

I opened my mouth to explain—

“But yeah,” he chuckled, “kids these days. Girls pick ‘Pure Tough Guy’ or ‘Real Man’; boys go ‘Miao Miao Jiang’.”

“…”

We parted at the shop entrance. I patted my warm little belly, smiling.

Not just for the intel—but I’d found the cure for post-ultimate-move weakness: eating.

“Home. Hope I beat An Li back.” I checked the time and jogged toward the road to hail a taxi.