Ultraman: It turns out this is the easy mode.

In a remote corner of the universe, there is a bar called "Interstellar Carnival." Inside, lights flicker, and various strange lights intertwine, illuminating a group of aliens of different shapes and sizes.

The drinks these aliens were incredibly bizarre. Some were thick liquids emitting purple smoke, others were transparent fluids emitting fluorescence, and some aliens were even inhaling directly from something resembling an energy canister, which flickered with an eerie blue light. But all these drinks had one thing in common: at least for these aliens, they had an intoxicating effect.

Look at that plant-like alien, clutching a large bucket of fertilizer that emitted a pungent odor, gulping it down. With each sip, its leaves trembled slightly, and soon it began to sway unsteadily—clearly drunk. But for the other aliens, the smell of the fertilizer was unbearable, and they all politely declined. The bar owner, well aware of the different aliens' habits, had deliberately arranged separate seating for them to prevent such chaos caused by differences in taste.

“Damn it. Storm One is getting more and more terrifying.” A tall, thin alien with tentacles on his head shook his wine glass and suddenly shouted, his voice filled with fear and resentment.

"Damn it, our intelligence suggests he's been practicing a rapid-pounding fighting style lately," another alien, completely shrouded in a black cloak, chimed in. His voice was deep and hoarse, as if it came from a deep cave. In reality, what they called a "rapid-pounding fighting style" was just Cui Ming pounding rice cakes, but they were unaware of this and thought he was researching some new, terrifying killing move.

"These days it's getting harder and harder to make a living," sighed another alien with three eyes, downing the green liquid in his cup in one gulp, his face full of helplessness.

"Is it okay if I don't attack Earth?" a rather timid-looking alien asked weakly, its body trembling slightly with the rhythm of its speech, like a lump of jelly.

"No, no, no, Storm One doesn't care about such things when it comes to killing people. Do you know the Terraristians?" The tentacled alien raised his voice, his expression becoming even more serious.

"I know him, that lunatic who killed 10 aliens?" the Jelly Alien replied, its tone filled with disgust for the Tilorist aliens. Indeed, the Tilorist aliens were infamous throughout the universe, known as lunatics. After all, even respectable aliens wouldn't go so far as to slaughter over 10 of their own kind just to steal LP gas. In everyone's eyes, such a guy deserved to die.

"That guy was killed by Storm One," the Tentacle Alien said in a low voice, a complex look flashing in his eyes.

"Oh, that's good." This time, the aliens in the bar all nodded in agreement, unanimously feeling that Storm One Cui Ming had done something truly gratifying. After all, the actions of the Tilorist aliens were simply too outrageous, bringing too much disaster and fear to the universe. Now that someone had been able to deal with them, it was as if a scourge had been rid of to the universe.

As they continued drinking, they began whispering about Cui Ming's exploits. Their words carried a mixture of fear and a strange reverence for his immense power, as if Cui Ming had become an untouchable taboo in their hearts, yet they couldn't help but want to explore him further. The atmosphere in the bar became even more eerie and oppressive because of this discussion about Cui Ming, while the plant-like alien remained by the side, clutching a bucket of fertilizer, completely drunk and occasionally letting out a few incoherent mumbles.

Meanwhile, Storm One, also known as Cui Ming, who was being discussed by these aliens, was listening nearby. He leaned against the shadows behind the bar, wiping a strangely shaped wine glass with intricate interstellar patterns engraved on its surface.

That's right, this is the new cosmic bar that Cui Ming recently opened. He only mixed a few drinks on a whim to suit the different types of aliens, but he didn't expect these aliens to like them so much that the business has become so good that he's opened a chain. Looking at the group of drunken guys in front of him, Cui Ming nodded to himself: It seems that the recipe for these drinks is indeed very good and suits their tastes perfectly.

Normally, the bartenders use projectors to greet customers, and Cui Ming himself is happy to have some peace and quiet, only occasionally coming out to check things out in person. However, the aliens don't seem to mind; after all, in space, who doesn't have some way to conceal their identity? This kind of thing is perfectly normal. In fact, they're more at ease—after all, many newly opened space bars have owners who die from various unknown area-of-effect attacks; those who survive are either extremely powerful or incredibly cautious.

"Tsk, that guy from the Terraristian aliens, they're still talking about him even after he's dead," Cui Ming muttered to himself, his hands still wiping the cup. He didn't mind these aliens talking about him; in fact, he found it somewhat amusing. Listening to their tone, which alternated between fear and satisfaction, was like listening to someone tell a legendary story that had nothing to do with him.

The plant-like alien carrying the fertilizer bucket suddenly hiccuped, green sap dribbling from the corner of his mouth, and mumbled, "Storm One... another... another special fertilizer concoction!"

Cui Ming raised an eyebrow and pressed a button under the bar. A projected bartender immediately floated to the plant alien's side, skillfully picked up the fertilizer bucket next to it, and refilled its "alcohol."

"Looks like this bar's business will stay hot for a while longer." Cui Ming put down the glass he had just wiped, picked up a glass of amber liquid he had mixed, and took a small sip. The stars outside the window swirled, the noise inside the bar continued, and the mysterious owner of the place watched all of this quietly, like an outsider, or a special character in the clamor of the universe.

The bar was filled with a cacophony of noise, a cacophony of strange languages. Suddenly, an alien with an octopus-like head and a glowing body shouted, "Have you heard? Ultraman is getting scarier and scarier lately!" This instantly drew the attention of the surrounding aliens, who quieted down as they all turned to look at it.

"How scary is it? Tell me quickly." A short alien, completely encased in heavy armor, urged.

The octopus-headed alien took a swig of wine, smacked its lips, and continued, "That Ultraman Taro, I don't know why, he always seems to run off to planets where there's war going on." As it spoke, it waved its tentacles, gesturing as if recreating the scene.

"And then?" another alien with three eyes and a pair of transparent wings on its back asked curiously.

"And then, he went over and just gave everyone a self-destruction demonstration!" The octopus-headed alien raised his voice, his tone full of disbelief, causing the surrounding aliens to gasp in surprise. "That's terrible! How powerful would a self-destruction be? Wouldn't those planets be blown to smithereens?" The armored alien's eyes widened, a hint of fear in his voice. The octopus-headed alien smiled mysteriously and continued, "The amazing thing is, after he self-destructed, nothing happened. He just dusted himself off, stood up, and started asking everyone if they wanted peace."

"This is outrageous!" the winged alien exclaimed. "Is this an attempt to reconcile or a threat?"

“Who says otherwise!” The octopus-headed alien took another sip of his drink. “The key is that many factions that were at war actually sat down and talked about peace after he did this.”

"Is Ultraman Taro always like this?" The armored alien scratched his head and asked in confusion.

"That's right! Back in the day, he even fought the Imperial Aliens. Those Imperial Aliens were so powerful, they had ambitions to conquer the entire universe, their scissor-like hands could emit all kinds of beams, and they could possess and transform. It's said that the golden cloak they wore on their backs could defend against any attack. In the end, they were still taken down by Taro." A giant alien, as big as a mountain, who hadn't spoken until now, spoke up. His voice was deep, as if it came from underground.

"And then there's that Balgi alien, who caught Taro's eye because he coveted Earth's ocean resources. That guy basically didn't have any powerful abilities, and in the end, Kotaro—Taro's human form—lured him near a flammable and explosive factory without him transforming, and he was blown to smithereens." The octopus-headed alien added, his words revealing his deep fear of Taro's methods.

"This Ultraman Taro seems determined to maintain universal peace. We'd better be careful in the future and not cause trouble under his nose," the winged alien sighed helplessly.

"Hmph, who cares? As long as we don't provoke Earth, we should be fine." Although the armored alien said this, a hint of unease still flashed in his eyes.

In a corner of the bar, Cui Ming listened quietly, a half-smile playing on his lips. He was, of course, very familiar with Taro's exploits, but he found the reactions of these aliens discussing them quite amusing. He gently swirled the amber liquid in his glass, which shimmered alluringly under the lights, as if telling untold stories of the universe.

After all, Taro's self-destruction was something he had helped train him to do.
Recently, Taro felt that his self-destruct power wasn't strong enough, so he was thinking about getting some more intensive training. But before he could even finalize his training plan, he was dispatched by Father of Ultra to various places to mediate wars.

Putting aside how outrageous this method is, just tell me if everyone has stopped. The answer is definitely yes. Who can resist this kind of peace-making approach that involves constantly threatening self-destruction?

Anyway, many aliens privately curse: "Dung monster! Ultimate dung monster!"
This thing completely defies the law of conservation of mass! How the hell is it that after you self-destruct, the fragments of your body can continue to self-destruct?! And how is it that it can return to its original state perfectly intact so soon after self-destructing?! What's even more infuriating is that every time after it explodes, when asked if he was hurt, he innocently says that he has full energy and is not injured at all.

Do you even want to hear what you're saying?! The aliens are going crazy with this. They've seen peace talks before, but never one this unreasonable. The two sides, who were fighting fiercely, were immediately put on pause the moment Taro appeared; neither dared to move an inch. After all, nobody wants to be chased by an Ultraman who can self-destruct and resurrect at full health, asking "Do you want peace?" This isn't peace talk; it's blatant threat of force!

Once, two planets were locked in a fierce battle over a resource planet when Taro suddenly self-destructed in the center of the battlefield. The shockwave sent several warships flying from both sides. After the smoke cleared, he dusted himself off and asked the two commanders with a smile, "Now, can we talk about peace?" The two commanders exchanged a glance and signed a peace treaty without a word, fearing that this powerful figure would once again perform a series of self-destructions.

Over time, the word spread throughout the universe: if you encounter Ultraman Taro, never fight him head-on; the best course of action is to shake hands and make peace. After all, no one can outlast a madman who can self-destruct infinitely without sustaining any damage.

Everyone in the universe thinks that Ultraman Taro is a terrifying, ultimate dung monster, and in fact, that is indeed the case.

There are too many examples. Once, several interstellar pirate gangs were planning to join forces to plunder a resource-rich planet. Not long after the news spread, Taro appeared out of thin air, standing directly on the deck of their flagship. Before the pirates could even fire, a dazzling red light emanated from Taro's body, and the next second, he exploded with a "boom".

Fragments flew onto the surrounding pirate ships, each piece triggering a secondary explosion upon landing, instantly engulfing the entire pirate fleet in flames. By the time Taro had reformed unharmed, the pirates were already terrified and fled in panic, not even bothering to salvage their ship wreckage, never daring to set foot in that starfield again.

On another occasion, two highly intelligent races had been locked in a border standoff for centuries due to a historical territorial dispute, with war imminent. Upon hearing this, Taro instantly teleported to the military buffer zone between the two sides and began his "self-destruct performance" without saying a word.

Three consecutive self-destructions transformed the once barren buffer zone into a crystal-clear, glassy landscape. When he stood there unscathed for the fourth time and asked the representatives of both races, "Are you now willing to sit down and talk?" the representatives looked at the land whose landscape had been completely altered, and then at Taro's sincere expression, and dared not utter a single "no."

Many forces in the universe feel a chill run down their spines at the mere mention of Ultraman Taro's name. This guy doesn't play by the rules at all; conventional threats and negotiations are completely ineffective against him. After all, no one can reason with an Ultraman who can turn self-destruction into a regular skill.

Over time, "Taro is coming!" has even become a new form of deterrence in the universe. Whenever the two sides get into a heated argument, someone will always cautiously remind them, "That's enough. If you keep this up, Taro might come and give us a self-destruct performance." Hearing this, even the most furious person has to suppress their anger. After all, nobody wants to experience being blown to bits and then having to smile and say "we want peace." (End of Chapter)