Traveling through time, I'm making pancakes in Warhammer

"Bang!" Because of the dim light and heavy rain, Howard was tripped by something and fell to the ground. Then he got up, held on to the wall and gasped for breath.

He remembered his physical test at school. According to the requirements, they had to run one kilometer. Howard usually loved sports so his physical fitness was better. He ran one kilometer in less than three and a half minutes. Then he sat on the grass in the playground and watched his classmates run to the finish line one by one exhausted.

Many students sat down on the ground after crossing the finish line, and some even vomited on the spot. Even those who gritted their teeth and ran to the end felt sore in their legs for the next few days. As for why Howard knew this, it was because his roommate didn't dare to bend when walking for three consecutive days.

Howard remembered very clearly that their physical education teacher told them that if a natural disaster or war occurred in the future, the speed of running might be the speed of life and death.

Fuck you!

Howard had no intention of offending the instructor, but he was in such a bad mood that he cursed.

Of course he knew that the instructor said that to encourage them, but now Howard understood that if you really encountered such bad luck, the result of running one thousand meters in less than three and a half minutes or five minutes would be almost the same, because in this case, the dangerous area that needs to be left is often measured in tens or even hundreds of kilometers. Unless you can run half a hundred kilometers in one breath without stopping like a marathon runner, otherwise what will happen will be the same.

And in real life, where is the large playground with a flat track for you to run on? You thought the running scene was track and field, but it was actually a triathlon.

Howard held onto the wall and began coughing and retching. He felt his stomach fluttering in his stomach and trying to jump out of his throat. Waves of stomach acid surged up and burned his esophagus, and the saliva he vomited was thick and stringy.

Howard was glad that he didn't eat spicy food, otherwise the combined torture of stomach acid and capsaicin would have probably caused him to die on the spot.

In fact, it’s not that he doesn’t like spicy food, but after he came here, he tried some hot sauce that was said to be the spiciest, and it almost made him suffocate.

After recovering a little, Howard was about to move forward when he suddenly felt a burning pain in his thigh. He looked down and found that a nail had cut the inside of his thigh. He was wearing loose and soft pajamas, so he had no protection, and now a large area was soaked in blood.

Howard lowered his head to check the wound. Although the wound was very long, it was only a superficial injury.

So Howard ignored the wound and continued to walk forward in the dark, while silently praying in his heart that he must not take the wrong road.

Although the place where he started was less than two kilometers away from the hotel, the terrain of Zhongchao was complex and three-dimensional, and Howard did not have the ability to remember everything he saw. He only roughly remembered the remaining distance because he was in a hurry to avoid the rain. He could not guarantee that his memory was correct now.

As for how to get back to the starting point, Howard actually had no idea how to get here, but that wasn't a problem, because the noise in the distance still hadn't subsided, so he could definitely follow the noise.

After a long downhill slope of two or three hundred meters, Howard said thank God.

Because among the crowded buildings that looked like a disaster refugee camp, he saw a neon sign with the words "Prancing Pony Inn" written in Gothic.

Howard pushed the door open and went in. The owner of the hotel was a burly middle-aged man who seemed accustomed to the unusual noises in the distance.

Because this kind of movement is not uncommon in Zhongchao, such as gang fights, chemical plant explosions, hunting games, etc.

Normally, it would be safe to stay in one's own residence when encountering such a thing, but the hotel owner could never have imagined that less than two kilometers away from him, there was an out-of-control Astartes-level madman who wanted to tear down the entire mid-nest.

The innkeeper raised his eyelids, glanced at Howard, and quoted the price for one night's stay.

He actually increased the price fivefold because he saw Howard was in tattered clothes and had injuries on his body, so he guessed that he was in some trouble and was looking for a place to rest temporarily, so he took advantage of the situation and robbed him.

"Can I borrow your kitchen?" Howard said that to the boss and was about to go to the back kitchen, but was stopped by the boss.

"No one without permission is allowed to enter the kitchen. If you really want to go in, it's not a problem, but..." The hotel owner then quoted another price, which was three times the price he had just offered Howard.

"I have plenty of money, but I don't have it with me right now. Let me use your kitchen first. I'll give you ten times the reward after the matter is resolved," said Howard.

"No thanks," the innkeeper replied. "No credit."

Howard hesitated for a moment and then rushed towards the innkeeper.

Half a minute later, the door of the Prancing Horse Inn opened, and the innkeeper grabbed Howard by the back of his collar and kicked him in the butt, kicking him out.

Howard had a large bruise on his left eye.

Howard had lost his mind just now because he was too anxious. He wanted to sneak attack the innkeeper, knock him unconscious and then forcibly use the kitchen. However, he forgot that there was an essential difference in the strength of their bodies, so they shattered at the first touch.

What now?

The commotion in the distance showed no signs of stopping, which was a neither-good-nor-bad sign. It indicated that Arabelle or someone else hadn't resolved the matter, but it also indicated that Arabelle was still alive and still struggling with the out-of-control Char.

It seemed that I was just one step away from success, but it got stuck at 99% of the progress.

Howard got up from the ground and adjusted his non-existent collar, as if he was not wearing baby pajamas, but a black suit with a tie.

Howard opened the door of the Prancing Pony Inn again.

"Are you here to get beaten?" the innkeeper asked in confusion.

Howard raised his right foot and stepped on the table at the front desk of the hotel. He pressed his whole body forward, allowing his shadow to cover the innkeeper—at least covering the innkeeper's head, making him think that he was obscured by Howard's shadow.

"Listen, two kilometers away right now, my friend is trying to stop an out-of-control monster that's ready to kill everyone, and I'm going to requisition your kitchen to make something that can calm it down," Howard said, leaning closer to the innkeeper, his shadow looming even closer. "Note that I'm talking about requisitioning, not borrowing or leasing. I gave you respect, but you threw it on the ground, and now you have no right to bargain. Even without my help, my friend can handle this trouble, but the extra cost will have to be repaid from you with interest. If you think you can handle this debt, then kick me out again."

When Howard said this, he deliberately lowered his voice to imitate the old godfather in the movie. He was really helpless now and could only hope that his impromptu performance could have some of the so-called Sicilian influence.

In the silent confrontation after he finished speaking, Howard noticed that the innkeeper swallowed.