301: Chapter 304 We're one short, who's going to join?

"luan niao starship", leisure room.

The air here was permeated with the aroma of aged fine wine.

A folding table stood in the center of the cabin, covered with a thick layer of nano-soundproofing mat, with four neat rows of alloy mahjong tiles arranged around it.

Jiang Chen leaned back in his chair, twirling a smooth, jade-like tile in his hand, his expression showing a long-lost, genuine sense of relaxation.

"Old Zhao, your mahjong skills are lacking."

Jiang Chen slammed his tiles onto the table. "Pure One Suit, I win. Hurry up, hand over those spirit stone chips, stop dawdling."

Zhao Gang stared wide-eyed at his hidden tiles, his face full of indignation.

He wasn't playing cards, was he?

At this moment, he felt like he was playing against a super quantum computer. No matter how he calculated, even using military-grade tactical auxiliary algorithms, the tiles in Jiang Chen's hand seemed to have anticipated all his moves in advance.

"Boss, your… your luck is just too good, isn't it?"

Zhao Gang pushed the spirit stone, which shimmered with a deep blue luster, across the table. "This is the last one for this month; if I lose again, I'll have to sell the starship."

Academician Chen Shuyin sat to the side, performing complex permutations and combinations on her set of tiles.

She pushed up her glasses, her brows furrowed into a ' river' shape, clearly provoked by this simple game of strategy, which had ignited a strong competitive desire rooted in her scientific nature.

"This isn't right."

She said without looking up, "According to probability theory, the chance of you winning this hand was only 0.03 percent."

"Jiang Chen, you didn't add some kind of force field sensor to these mahjong tiles, did you?"

Jiang Chen laughed.

He pushed the tiles across the table, creating a series of crisp clacking sounds. "Academician Chen, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't just say whatever you want. Playing cards is all about the right time, the right place, and the right people."

"Besides, this is our signature activity on this expedition."

"We've been flying for almost a month now; if we don't find some amusement, this crew is going to go stir-crazy on the ship."

Just then, Zhao Gang urged again.

"We're still missing one person!"

He looked at the empty seat with a depressed expression. "Three missing one really isn't exciting enough. How about we pull that mouse up here? I've seen it staring for a long time."

Pikachu squatted on the chair, emitting an expectant "Pika" sound, its round eyes staring at the mahjong tiles, eager to grab them directly.

Jiang Chen glanced at the empty seat, a sly, mischievous smile appearing on the corner of his mouth.

"If I let it up, wouldn't it just fry the mahjong table with electricity?"

"Since we're missing a person, let's try something fancy."

Jiang Chen pulled over the holographic projector that had been sitting at the edge of the table. "This is an interstellar warship; if we're still limited to just these few people, wouldn't that be too lacking in style?"

His fingers moved nimbly across the control panel.

"System, connect the signal from the Wasteland Plane, link to the Imperial Palace command room."

"I'm bringing in a ringer."

The screen flickered.

The next moment, the face of Jiang Wanqiu, clad in battle armor with a murderous look still lingering on her features, appeared directly in the empty seat.

Although it was only a holographic projection, the sharpness belonging to the Wasteland Empress made both Zhao Gang and Academician Chen Shuyin involuntarily straighten their backs.

"Father God?"

Jiang Wanqiu was clearly still recovering from the state of having just finished slaughtering a wave of mutated beasts.

She was still gripping her alloy battle blade, her red pupils flashing with a cold, piercing light, her voice icy and bone-chilling. "I have already cleared the southern defense line. What is it, which galaxy's civilization wants to come looking for death again?"

"No war, no killing."

Jiang Chen waved his hand and neatly stacked the pile of spirit stones in front of him. "Three missing one, you're the one missing. Are you coming or not?"

"Playing mahjong?"

Jiang Wanqiu's red pupils flickered, clearly puzzled by this new vocabulary. "Is that… some kind of combat ritual of the God Realm?"

"You can understand it as a game of strategy more interesting than killing enemies."

Jiang Chen smiled and coaxed, "If you win, I'll teach you a couple of our more advanced… hmm, 'tactical communication' techniques; if you lose, you have to be obedient from now on."

"There's such a good thing?"

Jiang Wanqiu's killing intent instantly dissipated, and on that cold, imperial face, a pure smile that made one's heart tremble actually appeared.

"Come!"

"Since it is Father God's order, then Jiang Wanqiu will accompany you to the end!"

And so.

On this card table, a scene appeared that would be enough to make any physicist, or even any interstellar civilization Commander, feel like breaking down.

On Earth's side.

Jiang Chen, relying on the logic correction brought by the system, unscrupulously controlled the outcome of the entire game.

Academician Chen Shuyin was there calculating every probability while making tiny marks on the set of alloy mahjong tiles.

On the Wasteland side.

Jiang Wanqiu was tapping the table (projection) with her scabbard while shouting in the tone of commanding thousands of troops: "Five Bamboo! Once this tile is out, you all have to kneel before me!"

Zhao Gang sat to the side, cold sweat streaming down.

Is this playing mahjong?

This is clearly a war filled with gunpowder and calculations happening within the interstellar communication bandwidth!

Jiang Chen drew a tile.

It was a Red Dragon.

He looked at the amazingly good hand in his hand, just about to say something pretentious, when the live broadcast terminal placed on the side of the table suddenly sounded.

It wasn't the system's notification sound.

It was a barrage comment from the live streaming room.

Jiang Chen casually swiped open the comment section, originally intending to block those wealth-flaunting remarks that annoyed him.

But the moment his gaze swept across the screen.

A line of glaring, sarcastic barrage comments that almost made the mahjong tile in his hand drop into his soup bowl caught his attention.

It was an image posted by an anonymous account.

In the picture.

It was a woman who was destitute to the extreme.

She was wearing a ragged coat that even a cleaner wouldn't want to wear, squatting under that brightly lit bridge in Tianhai City, which only homeless people would frequent, holding a crumpled steamed bun in her hand.

Below the picture was a line of malicious text:

"The former girlfriend, now a beggar. God Jiang, your 'ex-girlfriend' seems to be starving to death; are you really not planning to go and 'feed' her?"

Jiang Chen's gaze paused on the woman's face for a few seconds.

That was Lin Yao.

Although she was disheveled and haggard to the point of being almost unrecognizable, Jiang Chen would recognize that face even if she were turned to ashes.

The ex-girlfriend who had kicked him to the curb back then because he "wasn't rich enough," and was later dragged into the mud because of the "Wang family's bankruptcy."

"Tsk."

Jiang Chen tossed that tile onto the table, letting out a barely audible laugh.

"Look, Old Zhao."

He pointed at the screen. "This is called 'retribution'."

"We're here playing mahjong in the Milky Way Galaxy, and she's down there gnawing on a Wasteland-grade cold steamed bun."

"You say..."

"Is this life really quite ironic?"

He didn't pay any more attention to that barrage comment, nor did he pursue who exactly had posted the picture.

After all.

The name Lin Yao, in his eyes now, didn't even count as a clown.

He looked back at Jiang Wanqiu in the holographic projection.

Those red pupils were looking at him eagerly, as if waiting for his order.

"Don't look."

Jiang Chen picked up the tiles in his hand again; it was the last key tile.

"After finishing this round, we still have some serious business to attend to."

"There are some noises in this universe."

"We need to go and… mute them."

After speaking, Jiang Chen casually threw out the tile that had long been held in his palm.

I win.

"Pure One Suit, win by replacement tile."

Jiang Chen looked at the three confused people, stood up slowly, and opened the door to the command room.

"Meeting adjourned."

"Get ready, next stop, we're going to meet that bunch of so-called 'The Sweepers'."

"Let's see if they."

"Actually have the qualifications… to make me play this last tile."

This scene, in this universe full of absurdity and a sense of destiny, appeared exceptionally heavy, yet full of that high-and-mighty—

Divinity.

And at this time.

On the other side of the distant star sector.

The remnants of "The Sweepers" who had just experienced a crushing defeat were hiding in a dark corner, shivering.

Because they finally realized.

That man named Jiang Chen not only held a "remote control" of the Law of Causality in his hand.

The Wasteland Empress beside him, who wore a JK skirt and constantly wanted to engage in suicide attacks.

Was the true nightmare.

Jiang Chen walked out of the dock.

Looking at the starry sky, he gently patted Pikachu's head.

It's time for the harvest.

This universe.

Is too quiet.

It needs a little bit of…

Noise.