Good Children, Please Don’t Use Frying Pans Like This

"Hehe, can I have that Chest you had earlier?"

The Collector rubbed his little hands together, his mature old face displaying the anticipation of a child. "Or anything from inside that Chest will do…"

"Do you cosmic elders not have pain receptors in your crotches?"

Hearing The Collector’s words, Fang Mo raised an eyebrow. "How about I burn what just happened to you onto a disc and give it to you as a collectible? Whenever you’re free, you can reminisce about your wonderful, delightful public humiliation. Wouldn’t that be lovely?"

"Ahem, you jest, Mage."

The Collector coughed awkwardly. He seemed to realize that he had gotten greedy again and hurriedly said, "Everything in your hands is a rare treasure, Mage. Being given any two items at random is already an immense honor…"

"Emmm…"

Fang Mo thought for a moment, then took two things from Steve.

They were an exquisite glass jar and three meatballs.

"What are these?"

Collector Tivan looked at the two items curiously.

He was always full of anticipation for anything Fang Mo brought out. After all, he could identify all things in existence, yet he alone could not understand the various objects Fang Mo produced.

For an old monster who had lived for who knew how long, nothing was more precious than a sense of novelty.

"A breakfast set."

Fang Mo explained casually.

Then he handed the items to The Collector.

Wearing white gloves, The Collector carefully accepted them and began examining them.

He studied the glass jar first. For some reason, a cow was sealed inside it. The cow was clearly alive and kept moving around in the jar, but strangely, it neither needed to eat grass nor produced waste, and it kept generating milk without stopping.

"What principle is this?"

The Collector fell in love with it after only one glance. Of course, it was not because he liked drinking milk, but because he was fascinated by the jar’s storage principle. "This method of collecting is far too exquisite! Look at my bulky, enormous display cabinets, then look at your delicate little bottle… My heavens, how was this even done?"

"This is a technique from another world."

Fang Mo shrugged. "Don’t think about it. You can’t learn it."

Indeed, Fang Mo had no way to tell Tivan about it. Making a Canned Cow was brutally simple: put a cow on top of a can, then smash the cow into it with an anvil.

It was certainly very MC, but would anyone believe it if he said so?

"I absolutely adore this."

The Collector could not put down the cow jar in his hand. "If all my collections could be stored inside bottles, how wonderful would that be? Karina would be the first one I put into a bottle…"

"…"

Karina beside him was so frightened that she nearly collapsed to the floor.

"Don’t just obsess over the jar." Fang Mo reminded him. "What’s so good about milk? These strength pills are the real good stuff."

"Strength pills?"

The Collector looked curiously at the Cosmic Meatballs. "Could these be… food?"

"Cosmic Meatballs."

Fang Mo grinned as he explained. "Instead of collecting them, I suggest you eat one first. This stuff is fucking amazing. Maybe after you eat it, even your hobbies will change…"

"Something even the Mage speaks so highly of has begun to interest me."

The Collector was clearly looking forward to it now. He walked over to a nearby machine and processed it, probably disinfecting and cooking it.

Because the thing’s mass and density were absurdly high, ordinary utensils could barely cut or pick it up. The Collector had no choice but to remove his gloves, pinch a meatball between his fingers, put it into his mouth, and slowly chew.

The Collector might have seemed weak after being tortured by Fang Mo in all sorts of ways.

But as a member of the cosmic elder race, he was actually quite powerful. One could tell just from the fact that he could lift a Cosmic Meatball without changing expression.

After all, this thing was even heavier than an Enchanted Golden Apple.

An ordinary person would get a prolapsed stomach from a single bite.

After chewing the Cosmic Meatball for a while, The Collector’s expression first became puzzled, then gradually turned to astonishment, and finally became pure enjoyment.

"This… this flavor…"

The more The Collector chewed, the more he enjoyed it. The more he chewed, the more excited he became, to the point that he was starting to lose his composure.

"The taste of Mom?"

Fang Mo had eaten Cosmic Meatballs himself, so he asked with a cheerful smile, "Are you so moved you’re about to cry? Shouldn’t you do a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin, fly into outer space, then blow up your clothes or something for everyone to see?"

"I truly am… so moved that I’m about to cry…"

The Collector trembled as he chewed. "What flavor is this? I have already tasted every food in the universe, but this thing… Why is its flavor so special? I can’t stop eating it… How is that possible?"

"You didn’t feed him some kind of contraband, did you?"

Seeing this, Yondu could not help leaning over and quietly asking Fang Mo, "Do you really hate him that much?"

"I’m a Special Chef! What kind of person do you take me for?"

Fang Mo immediately snapped.

"…"

Yondu shrank his neck and did not dare say another word.

"Alright, if there’s nothing else, I’ll get going. Rocket and the others are still waiting for me over there." Fang Mo waved his hand. Now that Ego’s coordinates had been found, he could not be bothered to stay here any longer, so he raised his hand to say goodbye.

However, to Fang Mo’s surprise, The Collector hurriedly grabbed him.

"Wait, Mage!"

"What is it?"

Fang Mo looked at The Collector. "Something else?"

"Well… hehe…"

The Collector revealed a fawning smile and said, "Do you have any more of these meatballs? I… I don’t think I can collect them anymore. They’re too delicious. Of course, I’m willing to pay for them! Any price is fine! The Tivan Group has no shortage of money."

"Do I look like I’m short on money?"

Fang Mo asked.

"Uh, well."

The Collector’s expression stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Then I can work for you! You probably don’t have your own force in this part of the universe yet, right? The Tivan Group can…"

"Ronan’s warship is pretty nice. Can you repair it?"

Fang Mo suddenly asked.

"The Dark Star?"

The Collector froze for a moment, then immediately nodded. "Of course! I have studied Kree civilization technology as well. Their biotechnology is quite advanced. If you wish to modify it into your own personal vessel, I would be honored to serve you."

"Alright, then it’s settled."

Fang Mo nodded, then slapped three copper… Cosmic Meatballs onto the table. "I’ll probably go to the Kree planet first, then find trouble with Ego. You’d better finish the job before that. I plan to show off properly when I return to Earth."

"Leave it to me."

Seeing the three Cosmic Meatballs on the table, Collector Tivan grinned so widely that his mouth was practically splitting apart.

After nodding, Fang Mo directly teleported back to the Rocket Team.

The moment he emerged from the spatial mist, Fang Mo saw Ronan tied up like a rice dumpling with alloy ropes. Rocket Raccoon and the others were loudly discussing something nearby.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Fang Mo walked over curiously and asked.

"Fang Mo, you’re back just in time." Seeing Fang Mo, Drax immediately said, "We’re discussing how to deal with this guy. I was persuaded by that furry little monster."

"Don’t call me a little monster!"

Rocket Raccoon bared his teeth and roared, "I told you, call me Captain Rocket!"

"Persuaded? Persuaded about what?"

Fang Mo was curious too. "Put down the butcher’s knife and attain Buddhahood? No way. With your personalities, you two shouldn’t be capable of doing something that stupid…"

"I want Ronan to suffer the most painful punishment in the world."

Drax said excitedly, "Originally, I planned to stab him a hundred times and brutally kill him… But that little monster captain and that pretty boy told me that if I wanted Ronan to suffer the most painful thing possible, I had to ask for your opinion. They said you were the most morally bankrupt one in the team. Not only are you a little crazy, you’re also full of rotten tricks. You could definitely make Ronan wish he were dead!"

"Hm?"

After hearing Drax’s words, Fang Mo immediately turned to look at the two of them.

"…"

Rocket Raccoon quickly turned his attention elsewhere, his furry ears guiltily folding back as he pretended to whistle.

"What the hell is in your head?"

Star-Lord truly could not take it anymore and directly started talking to Drax. "What we clearly said was, ‘Fang Mo has the most methods, so he can definitely think of something better than us.’ How did it become this when it reached you? Are you seriously trying to get your teammates killed?"

"I don’t care! You were the ones who suggested it!"

Drax waved his hand, then said to Fang Mo, "Help me think of something. It would be best if you could come up with the most depraved method possible… Make this guy wish he were dead!"

"For a moment, I can’t tell whether that was praise or an insult."

After hearing them out, Fang Mo could not help rubbing his forehead. "Forget it. My character setting is already this fucked up anyway. If you want to torture him, I do have a few methods you can consider."

"Tell us quickly!"

Drax urged.

Star-Lord and Rocket Raccoon could not help pricking up their ears as well.

"I have a sword. If you stab someone with it, it can make them immortal. Just bury him deep underground with the sword stuck in his body, and wouldn’t that make him living compost? Then dump a few pounds of earthworms into the soil, borrow two branches from Groot for cuttings, and I guarantee flowers will bloom everywhere…"

"I am Groot! (No, no… That’s too cruel…)"

Groot took a frightened step back. "(I don’t want to eat people. Not even Kree. Sorry, friend, I can’t do that…)"

"No?"

Fang Mo shrugged. "Then let’s switch to something gentler. I have a frying pan that can seal him inside. Then you can shit on the pan every day. By the way, this pan will never be damaged. After you die, your sons and grandsons can keep shitting into it. A family heirloom toilet artifact. As long as your bloodline keeps going strong, you can make Ronan eat shit for ten thousand years."

"Haha! This one’s good!"

Drax immediately laughed after hearing that. "My shit logs are famously huge. Ronan is in for a treat now!"

"That’s truly horrifying…"

Star-Lord could not help feeling a chill at that.

"Come on." Rocket Raccoon waved his hand. "Quill, get used to it. This is probably already his gentlest method."

"Fine, fine."

Star-Lord did not want to continue talking about this, so he waved his hand. "Where are we going next? We can’t exactly set up camp on this wrecked piece of junk, can we?"

"To the Kree civilization."

Fang Mo said, "I promised Ronan earlier that I’d go over and wreak havoc on the Kree civilization."

"Huh?"

Everyone froze upon hearing that. Star-Lord looked utterly incredulous as he asked, "You’re sure he wanted you to wreak havoc on the Kree civilization? Did you oversleep… Uh, I mean, did you hear wrong? Maybe Ronan actually said he wanted to wreak havoc on Xandar or something?"

"No, he said the Kree civilization."

Fang Mo shook his head. "His greatest dying wish was to make one final contribution to the Kree Empire by luring me to the Kree homeworld…"

"I can testify that Ronan really did say that."

Drax declared solemnly.

"Damn." Rocket Raccoon looked at Ronan in shock. "This is how you serve your empire?"

"…"

Ronan had given up thinking by now. No matter what they said, he merely hung his head without uttering a word. Though his eyes remained open, he looked little different from a corpse.

In any case, after dealing with Ronan.

The matters on the Void Dimension side had come to an end.

No one wanted to stay there any longer, either. Ronan’s Dark Star was constantly exploding, with nearly all the Necrocraft outside trying to repair the ship. The Tivan Group fleet had also arrived, and the two sides were fighting in a tangled mess. The entire battlefield was chaos beyond description.

Thus, after some discussion, everyone returned to the Milano and headed toward the territory of the Kree Empire.

The Void Dimension was extremely far from the Kree Empire. There were almost too many jump points to count, and they had to pass through several asteroid belts along the way. Even at maximum speed, it would take several days to arrive.

During that time, Fang Mo also fulfilled his promise.

He sealed Ronan inside the frying pan and gave it to Drax to use as a toilet.

This Tinkers’ Construct frying pan truly was useful. It looked like cast iron, but it apparently came with nonstick properties as well. It did not retain water or oil, and after use, one only needed to toss it outside and shake it once to clean it.

Drax had now thrown away his daggers and spent all day carrying this frying pan around the ship.

But Rocket Raccoon and Star-Lord simply could not stand it. Although the pan looked clean, the moment they thought about what it was used for, everyone felt nauseated. Thus, after a joint suggestion from the group, Drax had no choice but to wrap the frying pan in high-tech plastic sheeting and carry it on his back, only unwrapping it whenever he needed to use it.

The pan was quite large, too. Its diameter was around half a meter, and its handle was almost a meter long. Carried on his back, it looked exactly like an oversized poop scoop.

Fang Mo also kindly gave this frying pan a name.

The Abominable Poop Scooper – Bai Deng.

And to make things more fun, Fang Mo even enchanted the frying pan.

Unlike the enchantments for swords and other bladed weapons, Fang Mo gave this pan Sweeping Blade, Efficiency, Expansion, Strength, and Loyalty.

Fang Mo had originally wanted to add Smelting or Fire Aspect.

But considering the frying pan’s actual purpose… it somehow felt a little wrong, so he gave up on those enchantments.

For combat, Sweeping Blade and Strength were enough.

As for toilet duties.

Efficiency and Expansion were truly extremely useful enchantments.

And with Loyalty added, Drax could now throw the frying pan out of the ship entirely. The pan would fly around outside on its own, shaking off the filth on it like a dog shaking water from its fur, then automatically fly back.

Honestly, Fang Mo was tempted after seeing that.

He figured that once he returned to MC, he would make an even better one for himself. For now, though, no one dared provoke him, so it seemed he would have to wait for some unlucky bastard first.