Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 286 Morning Run
"Ah! It's been so long since I've slept until I naturally woke up. My own bed is so comfortable!" In the early morning, Chen Xi slowly woke up from the soft quilt, feeling a long-lost sense of comfort in her drowsy state.

He stretched his somewhat stiff body, giving a big, satisfying yawn, each joint making a soft, contented sound.

In his drowsy state, he couldn't help but shout, the sound particularly loud in the quiet bedroom.

However, when he rubbed his sleepy eyes and fumbled for his phone on the bedside table, the glaring screen showed that it was only six o'clock in the morning.

Chen Xi immediately slumped back onto the pillow like a deflated balloon, letting out a wail: "Damn it! I only slept for a few hours!"

Unwilling to give up, Chen Xi turned to look at the window beside her, struggled to get up and pull back the curtains.

A cool morning breeze brushed against his cheek through the gauze window. The sky outside was just beginning to lighten, with only a sliver of dawn appearing on the eastern horizon. The distant buildings were still shrouded in a hazy morning mist.

Several early birds hopped on the branches, chirping sweetly.

Seeing this, Chen Xi gave a helpless, bitter smile.

He fell heavily back onto the bed, burying his face in the soft pillow, trying to regain his sleepiness.

But at this moment his mind was unusually clear, as if he had been completely awakened by the coolness of the morning. No matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep just wouldn't come his way again.

At 40K, although he was the governor of the planet, he could theoretically live a life of extravagance and debauchery—if he wanted, indulging in sensual pleasures and debauchery would not be difficult, after all, the entire planet was his territory and resources were inexhaustible.

But when it comes to sleep time, Chen Xi can only manage to get three or four hours of sleep a day.

Whether it was the complicated political affairs or the various matters related to the war, they all devoured his time like a greedy beast.

He had to work like a precision machine, squeezing every last drop of his energy out of himself.

For this reason, he had to gravitate towards certain imperial bureaucrats and rely on drugs to maintain his lucidity.

He always keeps various stimulants in his desk drawer. Whenever fatigue washes over him, he has to give himself a shot of adrenaline to stay focused and ensure he makes the right decisions.

In the Empire, this was hardly a strange thing.

The rejuvenator assigned to Chen Xi is skilled in using biotechnology to repair his physical damage, and one of his most important daily duties is to ensure that he can complete all his work in the best possible condition.

They would precisely administer the medication, monitor his physiological indicators, and even force-feed him nutritional supplements when he was overtaxed, so that he could continue to hold on.

In this process, the use of medication is perfectly normal.

The Empire has an extremely wide range of options in this regard—from mild neurostimulants to potent adrenaline derivatives, and even illicit drugs that act directly on the cerebral cortex to give people a burst of extraordinary focus in a short period of time.

Of course, it wasn't just about energizing people; the empire also developed various sleep aids to ensure that rulers like Chen Xi could enter a deep sleep in the shortest possible time, even if it was only for half an hour, so that he could barely recover some energy.

These drugs are marketed as allowing you to "sleep whenever you want and wake up whenever you want," perfectly aligning with the Empire's relentless pursuit of efficiency.

However, while physical fatigue can be relieved with medication, mental fatigue is not so easy to eliminate.

The long-term pressure, the burden of decision-making, and the endless responsibility were gradually wearing down his will.

Otherwise, the high lords of the empire wouldn't have been working themselves to death one after another at their posts. Similarly, this also meant that Chen Xi's sleep in the 40k era was a complete mess, with virtually no quality sleep whatsoever.

Those fragmented, light sleeps, drug-induced sleep, and rests that could be interrupted by emergency communications at any moment had already thrown his biological clock into complete disarray.

He originally thought that after returning to the KKK era, he could finally get rid of the endless political and war pressures and enjoy a good, undisturbed sleep.

But who would have thought that even after returning to the familiar environment of the 3K era, he only slept for a few hours before waking up automatically, as if his soul had been branded with the idea that he was only entitled to such a short rest.

There is no doubt that this feeling is extremely torturous.

Despite being physically exhausted, the brain stubbornly refused to continue sleeping; despite knowing there were no urgent matters to attend to, the nerves remained tense, as if a battle report would arrive at any moment.

Even though Chen Xi could use his spiritual energy to force himself into a deep sleep, that artificial and unnatural sleep made him even more uncomfortable.

In the end, he gave up struggling and chose to get up.

He mechanically changed into a set of sportswear, intending to go out for a few laps and use the most primal way to completely wake himself up.

After all, this is not the 40k era. This unmodified ordinary body cannot withstand the 40k-style torment, and there is no rejuvenator by his side who can inject him with various injections.

Without those meticulously formulated medications or a medical team on standby, he could only rely on the most primitive "home remedies"—exercise, cold water, and coffee—to fight against his body's instincts.

This sudden "primitive feeling" made him feel both helpless and amused, as if a sailor accustomed to interstellar travel was suddenly forced to row a canoe.

But Chen Xi was forcing herself to adapt to all of this.

He gritted his teeth, using his willpower to fight against his body's instinctive reactions, because he had to make it clear to himself that the 3K era was his foundation, and everything in the 40K was just a false dream.

He repeatedly told himself: no matter how real the dream was, no matter how unforgettable those memories were, it was ultimately just an illusion.

He wouldn't allow himself to wallow in the shadows of that world, much less to fall into the abyss of that cruel era from which he couldn't extricate himself.

With this firm belief, he began his morning runs.

However, this unenhanced 3K-era body was clearly unable to adapt to the sudden, strenuous exercise.

He had only run less than two hundred meters when his lungs felt like they were being burned, his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and his legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.

He had to stop, bend over by the roadside, clutching his stomach and panting heavily, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

Just then, Liu Yi went for his morning run as usual.

He noticed Chen Xi's pained expression from afar and immediately quickened his pace to run over.

Liu Yi's face was full of concern. He patted Chen Xi's back gently to help him catch his breath and asked anxiously, "Are you alright? Should I take you to the hospital?"

His voice was filled with genuine concern, and his gaze kept sweeping over Chen Xi's pale face.

(End of this chapter)