Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 284 The Streets of Rostov
Walking along the wide central avenue of Rostov II, Chen Xi's boot heels made a crisp sound as they stepped on the clean pavement.

He raised his head slightly, letting the sunlight fall on his face, and his gaze swept over the orderly buildings on both sides of the street.

As the planetary governor, he felt more clearly than anyone else that this planet, which he had personally transformed, was fundamentally different from the rest of the Empire's world.

Although Chen Xi's interstellar travel experience is not extensive—besides Rostov II, he has only visited a few peripheral planets within his jurisdiction and the star sector capital world—this limited experience is enough to create a stark contrast.

In those worlds, whether it be the Forging World or the Hive City World, the air is always filled with an atmosphere of despair.

The workers toiled mechanically on the assembly line, their backs hunched over. Everyone was numb and desperate, even the powerful and wealthy looked sickly pale.

But at this moment, the scene before Chen Xi was completely different: pedestrians on the street walked briskly, vendors in the market shouted enthusiastically, and children could even be seen playing by the fountain in the square.

What moved him most was that when he met the eyes of passersby, he saw not the standardized numbness and timidity of the empire, but genuine smiles and vibrant eyes.

This hope for life was nothing short of a miracle in the dark forty-first millennium.

Even in the supposedly prosperous capital of the star sector, Chen Xi had never felt such a vibrant atmosphere.

Even the nobles of Shangchao had a cold majesty, a pale and sickly numbness on their faces, and a deep weariness hidden beneath the veneer of respectability.

In the empire, even nobles could not live with hope; rules and responsibilities always weighed on them, making it hard for them to breathe.

This is the human empire of the 40k era. Whether it is the ruling class at the top of the empire or the ruled class at the bottom, everyone is struggling to survive and cannot get a moment's respite.

But here, in every street and every community of Rostov II, vitality and hope are real and widespread.

Workers would discuss upcoming holographic dramas during their breaks, housewives would choose fresh synthetic protein foods for their families, and even the lowest-paid cleaners would share a bottle of cheap but legal fermented beverage during their breaks.

The difference was so obvious that Chen Xi would often suddenly stop during his inspections.

He habitually put his hands behind his back, his sharp eyes scanning every corner of the street, even though he had been deliberately controlling his behavior and even leaning more towards his habits from the KKK era.

But as the planetary governor and judge whose word could decide the life and death of billions, Chen Xi's every word and action still exuded an air of authority.

Today, he deliberately changed out of his glamorous governor's uniform, which signified his status, and replaced it with a slightly worn work jacket.

These were ordinary technician uniforms he found in the logistics department's warehouse. They looked no different from those of ordinary workers passing by on the street, but a closer look revealed a significant difference between the two, both in their walking posture and their mannerisms.

However, after noticing this, Chen Xi's memory of how the judges moved stealthily made him correct his behavior and become less conspicuous.

"To see the truth, you must first remove the crown," Chen Xi murmured to himself, repeating this proverb from ancient Terra.

As the planetary governor and judge, he knew all too well how the imperial bureaucracy operated.

Those meticulously planned inspection routes, those hastily painted walls, those pre-trained civilians—this trick has existed since humans were still using gunpowder weapons, and has remained unchanged for 40,000 years.

Just like those tempting canned military rations in military propaganda videos, which often turn out to be nothing but moldy, dead starch inside; just like the golden wheat fields in agricultural picture books, with barely legible small print in the corner saying "For reference only"...

He deliberately chose the most ordinary public bus, squeezing in among the workers who reeked of sweat and engine oil. As the bus swayed through the industrial area, he noticed a young female worker next to him constantly caressing an apple in her arms—a luxury unimaginable in other worlds.

Yes, there is fruit for sale at the market on Rostov II.

Although buying it would be a great luxury for a young female worker, she was able to buy it, and could afford it if she gritted her teeth.

Even this was under the premise that the sub-sector was at war, with most of the planet's resources being used to supply the front-line war effort, leaving little output and resources to meet the planet's population's living needs.

After all, with the output of the orbital hydroponic farm and the planetary food supply paid for by the Ministry of the Interior, the food needs of the planet's population can be met while also supplying the expeditionary force. Although it is a bit tight, it is still not a problem.

In the food court of the slums on the outskirts of the city, he saw workers using currency printed by the governor’s office to buy hot synthetic protein cakes, instead of exchanging ration coupons for cold nutritional pastes as in some hives.

The protein factory that the previous planetary governor hoped to build has finally benefited the people of this planet, which can be considered a consolation to his spirit in heaven.

However, the protein factory has changed from being used to provide staple food for the planet's population to being an optional supplementary food.

“Sir—no, I mean, sir—would you like to try a freshly baked meringue?” a wrinkled vendor called out to him, offering him a meringue wrapped in recycled paper.

When Chen Xi took it, she noticed that although the other person's fingers were rough, they were very clean, and there was no black grime in the nail crevices that is common in the industrial world.

He readily pulled a few coins from his pocket; these were the common currency on Rostov, and not the same as the throne coins.

In fact, in Rostov, even if Chen Xizhen took out a throne coin, he couldn't buy anything, just like in the 3K era, you couldn't buy anything in a store even if you took out a silver ingot or a gold bar.

The Governor's Office in Rostov issued its own currency, which had decent purchasing power overall. At least one worker's hard-earned wages for a day's work were enough to support a family of five.

There will never be a ridiculous joke like a loaf of bread costing 500,000 marks, or that the money for buying bread would require a wheelbarrow to carry it.

The meringue was cheaper than Chen Xi had expected. He pulled out a handful of coins and paid only two of the smallest denomination coins for a meringue that looked pretty good even by 3K era standards.

Of course, it only looks alright.

It was clean and hygienic, and smelled like cooked protein; otherwise, it was just a pale white piece of synthetic protein.

Even if it's just baked, there's no trace of grease on the surface.

Taking a bite... the texture is indescribable, like chewing a piece of rubber, or a completely tasteless piece of chewing gum. It's somewhat teeth-grinding, but completely tasteless.

If this were in the 3K era, he would have turned around and thrown up immediately; this stuff can only be described as disgusting.

But this was the 40k era, and Chen Xi didn't waste the food. Instead, he chewed the meringue into pieces and swallowed it all.

Because not far from him, a man dressed similarly as a worker was handing a meringue to his child, and the father and son were sharing the meringue with happy smiles on their faces.

(End of this chapter)