Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 151 I am the Midnight Ghost! I am the Midnight Ghost!

Nostramo, decades ago.

When Nostramore was still shrouded in endless darkness and corruption, when the Midnight Wraiths were still just a distant legend of the hive city.

The daytime here is slightly brighter than the nighttime.

At noon, in the thinnest part of the cloud cover in the entire Nest City, one might be fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of the faint light cast by a decaying star.

Nostradamus remained unchanged, the same gloom everywhere, with no sense of alienation in color.

There are also the billboards, the lights in the houses, and the endless noise from traffic.

The changes in light between day and night are so subtle that no one pays attention—the brightest day in Nostramo is not much better than the midnight in ancient Terra when only moonlight remains.

A tiny sound.

In the dimly lit alleyways where no one manages or cleans, the midnight wanderer can hear the faintest sound—in the garbage-strewn city, it is difficult to sneak around without making a sound.

Except for midnight ghosts.

He silently leaped onto the towering spire roof—an extremely ancient structure that the midnight ghost recognized.

His innate knowledge told him that it was manufactured using some kind of STC template. He didn't know when the construction was completed, but this extremely sturdy and durable material, even after being soaked in endless murder and filth for thousands of years, still only bore the marks of time.

The midnight ghost put those thoughts aside and crawled slowly and darkly forward until he reached the edge of the roof, where he stared into the alley with his night-vision eyes.

Two young men with drawn blades were slowly moving forward in the alley, looking at their prey who had been cornered against the wall—a young woman trembling with fear.

Again.

Midnight Ghost thought to himself, this was something Nostrama was most accustomed to and used to.

As for the two young men with knives, they were just the most common street thugs seen in Chaodu.

Useless scum is everywhere in Nostramore's lair.

The woman's attire was noticeably more presentable, and the fact that she could survive in Nostramamo with such a figure and naivety suggested that she came from a distinguished background.

Perhaps soon, retaliation from their protectors will make these two reckless fools pay the price.

Even so, the two thugs wielding knives continued to approach.

This did not prevent her from facing the misfortune that awaited her.

But he can.

Midnight ghosts are acceptable.

Just as the two young men's hands were about to touch the woman's clothes, and their greedy eyes were about to see what they wanted, a huge figure landed in front of them without making a sound.

"Let her go," he said.

"Midnight Ghost!!!"

It seemed that these two young thugs would rather leave themselves than let the girl go.

One of them chose to fight to the death, rushing towards Midnight Ghost with a knife, while the other did not move. In this filthy alley filled with garbage, Midnight Ghost could also smell a stench of urine.

The thug who dared to charge at him had his head easily broken off—the midnight ghost didn't like pointless torture (at least not yet).

As for the lone girl, Midnight Ghost never intended to take her home or ensure her safety.

She ran away, and may encounter other misfortunes in the darkness—but the midnight ghost doesn't care.

For him, punishing evil was the only thing that mattered.

He stepped forward and looked at the thug who was frozen in place, too scared to move an inch.

Approaching little by little.

"Hey!"

Just as the midnight ghosts were slowly pressuring him, just as they had been pressuring the girl, he suddenly let out a low moan, covered his head with both hands, staggered a few steps, and stopped in place.

Countless timelines began to wash over his mind, allowing him to see even more.

The perception of another time and space forcefully squeezed into the mind of the midnight wanderer.

The thug gradually disappeared into the distance, turning into a tiny black dot.

The thug died, killed and devoured by the midnight ghost, his remaining corpse hanging at the top of the spire as a warning.

This case never happened.

Before the midnight ghost could make a move, the thug was beaten to death by the female security guard who arrived at the scene.

More and more images rapidly appeared in his mind, rising and falling between what should exist and what already exists. The two overlapped and intertwined in complex logical changes, pushing each other forward, yet remaining intact.

As the scenery changed, he seemed to see it more clearly—as the boy struggled to back away, the Midnight Ghost re-examined his actions with doubt, wondering if they had gone too far.

He gradually began to have doubts about his own theories on justice and punishment.

This made him stop, and then he reached out a hand of redemption—not murder.

The other person seemed to hesitate and stopped; he too reached out his hand—the boy's.
—Kazan.

Midnight Ghost saw this name in another possibility of the future.

He grew up under the guidance of midnight spirits.

Soon, as time went by, his vision expanded beyond the ridiculous limited perspective that had once bound him, and he turned his attention to a more far-reaching and greater cause.

Inspired by his goodwill and hope, he stepped forward and restored the neighborhood to its former cleanliness, order, and vibrancy. More and more thugs, hooligans, and killers left the streets in his presence.

They, like him, were reformed and educated, transformed from criminals into another mentor.

In the future actions of the midnight wandering spirits, every tiny soul contributes its meager strength to change. This strength, like grains of sand forming a tower, collectively shatters the blood-soaked old rules.

And on those filthy ruins, a new and better social order was established.

For this, they thanked the Midnight Spirit. Everyone loved him for the changes he brought about.

This was the ending he had dreamed of.

But in the next moment, everything returned to the moment when he reached out to help the boy.

This time is different from the last time.

The boy seized his chance and stabbed the Midnight Ghost with his knife. Some strange force propelled it, allowing it to barely pierce the bone plates of his chest and sink into the Primal's heart.

It won't kill you. But it will be very painful and uncomfortable.

This was not the ending he had hoped for.

Then the scene changed again.

This time, when the midnight ghost offered a helping hand, the boy reached out and shook its hand, ultimately surviving.

A guy who managed to survive the midnight ghosts!

As a result, he became famous.

His legendary story has inspired more and more people to face their fears in the dark. After learning that the so-called midnight ghosts are just slightly larger homeless men, few people are afraid of this lone superhero.

It's impossible for him to be at every crime scene at the same time, nor is it possible for him to arrest all the criminals at the same time.

Even if you kill desperately, kill like crazy, until the whole nest is covered in blood, it's useless.

The rain in Nostradamo was still just as heavy.

So poisonous.

The fear from the midnight ghosts has been dispelled.

Just like in the future, when Koz learned that too many Nostrama criminals had infiltrated the Legion as blood taxes for new recruits, the entire Legion had become corrupt.

At this point, it would be meaningless for him to kill any more Midnight Lords.

Those scum will still shout "Long live the Lord of the Night!" and do their dirty deeds in the name of justice.

Killing is very effective, but sometimes killing can fail.

This is an ending he absolutely does not want to see.

The future was laid bare before the midnight ghost.

But no matter what, there can only ever be one future.

There will always be only one.

He must make a choice.

The midnight ghost stopped to ponder the images in his mind—if, for a fleeting moment, he could even sense that these possible futures were actually real.

All the changes were not cold choices, but rather the gradual consequences of his constant influence—he could steer the future in a better direction.

Midnight Ghosts can do it!

He can help this boy, and many other victims and those who have gone astray. He can lead Nostradamus towards a brighter future in a gentler, better way.

But... can he really do it?

Midnight Ghost fell into doubt.

He also saw how ridiculous he was for causing the entire plan to fail in his pursuit of that tiny bit of redemption.

From then on, no one feared the midnight ghosts; he had utterly failed.

Therefore, he must punish every crime and kill every criminal.

There was no mercy, no compassion, and no courage.

The fear of the midnight ghosts overwhelmed not only all the people of Nostrama.

Fear also overwhelmed the midnight ghost itself.

"For justice."

He said.

Then he extended his hand.

It has nothing to do with redemption, honor, or ideals.

It's just justice.

So he killed him.

Nostrama, now.

Above near-Earth orbit, a transport ship from the Cult of Mechanics is arriving above the planet with a large supply of Eighth Legion gene seeds.

A group of robust young men, accompanied by imperial officials and sages of the Cult of Mechanics, emerged from a room filled with various mysterious mechanical devices, curiously gazing at all the strange objects within.

They have completed the first step of gene seed implantation, and as new recruits, they are undergoing compatibility tests to determine the genetic seed's fit with their bodies.

As the first batch of Nostramerian Night Lords personally selected by the Night King of Nostramer, the quality of their soldiers is obviously high.

At Koz's request, these most powerful and intelligent young people, who are also the most outstanding on the planet, will be sent as Nostramore's blood tax to transport ships from the Empire.

Ultimately, after undergoing a series of genetic modifications, he became the Midnight King's space warrior, fighting for him on the battlefield.

"The examination is complete. The adaptability is unbelievably good, and there are no mutations."

“Jago Sevitalyon, the one on the Sevita list, please step forward.”

As the sage of the Mechanic Church called out names, a murmur rippled through the neatly arranged newcomers.

Regardless of who he is or what he has done, the fact that he has been singled out by the Midnight King suggests that his only fate is death.

Even death is a luxury.

"I'm here."

A pale-faced young man with black hair and black eyes, possessing almost entirely Nostramo features, walked out with an innocent expression.

He had no idea what crime he had committed that warranted being personally named by the Midnight King.

"However, according to the requirements of Lord Casca, the commander of the Sons of the Emperor, your future training and education will be completed in the Sons of the Emperor Legion."

"The Commander hopes that you can better master the knowledge of legion management within their legion and ultimately apply it to the Midnight Lord."

International students.

"So, who am I now?"

“Ah.” The Mechanicus sage turned around. “The Commander is on our Voidship. Yara, take this recruit to him.”

"Are you getting used to the days of the Midnight Lord?"

Led by a mortal officer into one of the rooms on the warship, Casca, clad in purple-gold Astartes power armor, turned to face the officer.

This was also the first time Sevier had met a high-ranking Space Marine commander.

He tried to examine the other person closely with his eyes, looking for differences in this giant who was even taller than him.

First, there's his appearance. As the second-in-command of the legion, Casgar Sherlock looks incredibly young.

It was as if everything had frozen at the moment he became a Space Marine, his perfect face unchanged by the hardships of battle.

Not even battle scars remained.

As a young man from the bottom nest, Sevita remembered hearing about it somewhere:
A warrior without scars is either pampered—like Sevita after Coz became the Midnight King, where no one, even in the Deep Nest, dared to fight him;

Either he is powerful enough that no one can leave even the slightest mark on him in battle.

(Actually, there are many more, but burning them with warp fire will solve the problem.)
Despite his youthful appearance, this commander is likely to be even more experienced than Sevita had imagined.

Don't judge a book by its cover.

Sevita bent down again, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the red helmet the other person was holding between his arm and body.

His armor was primarily a deep purple, resembling a whelk. Accompanying this beautiful color were intricate and complex gold patterns, giving the entire suit of armor an exceptionally luxurious feel.

Good nails.

That's a really nice nail!
As a new recruit who had just joined the Astartes Legion, Sevita had absolutely no way to refuse the Primarch's handcrafted armor, which even veterans would drool over.

In particular, the helmets are specially painted red as a striking feature.

A very creative idea.

"That's what I was thinking," Servita thought.

He decided that once he got his own power armor and had the chance, he would definitely paint his hands red.

I've heard that this might not be a good omen, but what does it mean?
As a commander, Kasgar painted his helmet red, a symbol of punishment. Why can't I, Sevita, do the same?
Good heavens, isn't this cool?
"Reporting to the Commander, after the initial gene seed implantation, I can feel a powerful force constantly surging within my body."

"Lord Casca, what are your orders?"

“I wouldn’t call it an order,” Casgar glanced at the still-new recruit, Sevita, “but you’ll probably be working with our legion from now on.”

That's impressive.

Since Koz returned quite late, and he was of Nostramo descent, he only joined the Legion after the Primarch returned.

He was a Space Marine who could be transformed in a very short time and quickly rise to prominence within the Legion, growing into someone capable of managing the entire Legion both in terms of strategy and in terms of combat against Sigismund. But unfortunately, he eventually went down the wrong path with Koz.

"This matter is not complicated—I want you to accompany me as my attendant to investigate the corruption on the planet Nostramore."

The root of the problem with the Midnight Lord lies in the source of troops.

If Casca wants to resolve this, he needs to make the commander of the Midnight Lords realize the crucial information that the nobles on Nostramo are unreliable.

That's right.

It is the true legion commander of the Night Lords, not Koz.

This guy doesn't care about anything. If he knew that his governance of the entire planet would collapse in less than a few months after he left, and that the methods of governance would vanish so quickly after he left, he would be terrified.
It's hard to imagine how crazy he could get.

Let the true commander of the Midnight Lords clarify these matters first.

Even if the other person is still a new recruit.

The flagship of the Emperor's Pride.

During these days of study, although Rogdorn wasn't exactly a considerate teacher, he made sure that Kurtz didn't miss a single thing in learning all the knowledge points.

Although Rogdorn enjoys sharp criticism and offending people, he is always sincere towards others.

The same applies to Coz's education.

—However, it's not very useful.

After all, he wasn't the commander of the Midnight Lord's legion, so teaching him more about legion management and team coordination wouldn't be of much use.

In any case, it's definitely not Koz who will be in command in the end.

As for Fugrim, her concern for Koz was genuine, unlike her other brothers who harbored some deep-seated resentment towards her. Kind-hearted Fugrim truly wanted to lend a helping hand to Koz, who was in trouble.

As for Casca...
He could actually sense that Casca genuinely wanted to help him. But!
This guy! He's not Re—!
Ugh!
Forget it, I won't say anymore. If I do, the Emperor will probably use his psychic powers to slit my throat again.

The thought of the dirty deal between the two men made Koz furious.

Fortunately, during these days, as long as his mental state didn't deteriorate to the point of developing a split personality, the three Primarchs got along relatively well.

Until today, the situation has changed slightly.

"What did you say?"

Fugrim looked at Koz with some concern.

After fighting alongside the Imperial Fist forces, Koz suddenly said this out of the blue.

"I'm going to Nostramo."

Koz said, as if he had made up his mind.

"But we still have a long expedition ahead of us, and we can't abandon you until your condition improves."

Fugrim still remembered Kasgar's instructions before he left—never let Koz return to Nostramore during this time.

He's handling some matters on Nostramamor, and if things go well, this could very well be the key to the Primarch's mental health improving.

Koz seems to be in a very fragile condition right now and must not be given any more stimulation.

"I'm going to Nostramo."

He just kept repeating that sentence.

"I'm going to Nostramo."

Nostrama, the surface of the earth.

A light rain was still falling. Kasgar and Severta, two Space Marines, were sitting in an extra-large and wide black groundcar (40K car) as they drove along the not-so-wide streets.

Although Nostramo is now under the lingering influence of the Midnight King, no one dares to run a red light, and the order is impeccable.

However, with the population explosion resulting from the sharp decline in crime rates and the full redistribution of wealth, these narrow lanes are clearly not enough.

But these street plans made up of STCs are not something that Coz can change by killing people.

"I didn't expect you to know how to drive."

To conceal their whereabouts, Casca and Sevita both changed into black trench coats commonly seen in Nostramo, as their casual attire when traveling.

"But to be frank, this won't fool those powerful families at all."

Kaska smiled wryly: "These guys probably already have an intelligence network running throughout the entire planet."

"Knowing that space warriors from space are coming, they will definitely pretend to be innocent, as if they have truly reformed under the influence of the Midnight King."

“Once we leave, they will definitely bare their fangs again and target the Nostramo people once more.”

Casca's words were pessimistic.

"But people nowadays will never go back to the past, they understand that!"

"Going back to the past will only lead to Nostramer's destruction; only the order brought by the Great Night King can save Nostramer."

Isn't that obvious?
Sevita expressed his confusion about Casgar's words.

Under Koz's intimidation, everyone in Nostrama was terrified and became completely submissive.

How could anyone possibly dare to commit a crime on Nostrama?
Isn't this person afraid of death?
“Sometimes the human mind is just so strange, Seppie.”

"Stop at the alley ahead."

Kasga pointed ahead and said, "When the temptation of adventure is great enough, they'll even sell the ropes to hang themselves."

"Hanging? The Midnight King would never use such a painless and unoriginal method of execution."

“A metaphor, Sevita, it’s just a metaphor.”

Casca reluctantly got out of the car and opened a black umbrella.

"Destroying the entire Nostramo would be a matter of moments for me."

He took a step forward, stepping over the puddle in front of him: "But if we want to turn all of Nostramore into a true paradise on earth..."

"That's far more difficult than killing a few villains."

"Where are we going now, sir?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Kasga laughed and said, "Or rather, we've already reached our destination."

"what?"

Several months have passed since the Midnight King left Nostramor, and unrest among the Nostramorians continues to spread across the hive city.
A long-standing desire for thrills and novelty has gradually replaced the past fear of the Midnight Monarch.

People in the hive city began to become less law-abiding.

People started running red lights, littering, and urinating/defecating indiscriminately.
They were not punished in any way.

Or rather, apart from a madman like the Midnight King, who would sentence someone to death for running a red light and then broadcast their miserable state to the whole world?

This really isn't the work of a madman?
Gradually, the probing became a little too much.

Gang warfare is gradually reappearing in Nostramo.

But this time, a fierce gang fight was discovered by the Imperial Guard.

Then catch them all in one go.

They desperately begged the Imperial Guards for forgiveness.

The fear was overwhelming; the sheer terror of seeing the horrific deaths broadcast live in billions of videos for the world to enjoy.

Several gang members thought with fear.

But in the end, they were put into prison without any real danger.

cell!

They wept bitterly in their cells, praising everything they could imagine.

So, committing a crime only means going to jail, instead of being torn to pieces by the Midnight King in unimaginable ways and having the whole world watch it, with the corpse ultimately hanging from the rooftop!

Your Honor!
These guys have never felt so welcome in a place like this before.

After the new governor took over Nostramore in place of the Midnight King, he naturally abolished the cruel laws left by the Primarchs through consultations among the various families, replacing them with legal provisions that were in use in the various worlds within the Empire where the Imperial bureaucracy resided.

At least when it came to 30K, people still paid some attention to the law.

It's not necessary to use "heretic!" to deal with every situation.

After the laws were amended, the courage of the entire planet seemed to gradually return to the era before the Midnight King.

(If this isn't changed, where will the prison inmates come from to serve as blood taxes and tribute to the Midnight Lord?)

More and more Nostramo people began to unleash their long-suppressed nature.

Nostramo, alleyway.

"You...? What do you all want to do?"

"What are you doing? To teach you a lesson."

The words had barely left his lips when a powerful impact rang out, followed by a faint groan.

"This is our Sawtooth Gang's territory, you son of a bitch, don't you have eyes?!"

Then there was another knocking sound.

The dark alleys of Nostramore were naturally the best place for these gang members to carry out their punishments.

The Imperial Guard's forces could not possibly cover all hive cities on a planet.

When these guards are absent, gangs spontaneously organized by lower-class residents take over their ecological position.

Upward, these people began to embezzle funds allocated from higher levels; downward, they gradually reverted to the old model of collecting protection fees.

"Where's the money? I'm asking you, where did the money go?"

"No. They've stopped paying me, and I'm looking for a new job."

"You son of a bitch, you think I'll believe your lies? Five seconds, I'll wait five more seconds, hand over the money obediently, or you'll get another beating."

"You! You all!"

The guy, his face bruised and swollen, seemed to have gone all out, roaring angrily at the gang members.

"The Midnight Ghost. He will come looking for you!"

Thinking they had something to say, the thugs burst into laughter when they overheard such an empty threat.

Still spouting nonsense about the Midnight King?!

Midnight King, that tyrant, that beast who disregarded human life, is long gone!

Right?

He's gone, and he's never coming back!
The world has returned to the people of Nostrama, and they will no longer live in constant fear of the Midnight King as they once did!
"Oh, really?"

Just as the three thugs were closing in, a shout suddenly came from above, from the black eaves of the house.

"Who?"

"Midnight Ghost!!!???"

They shouted the words at the top of their lungs, and the three thugs watched in despair as two giant black figures descended before their eyes.

Wait, two?
The thugs were taken aback and carefully examined the two unusual guests in the dim light of the nearby streetlights.

Also, why are those two guys dressed so strangely?
Their upper faces were completely covered by black masks, revealing only their chins. And on their tight-fitting masks were two small, demi-human-like tufts of hair!

Blasphemy!
In addition, their black bodysuits featured a golden winged claw in the center and a skull with bat wings on the other.

It doesn't seem like a vicious midnight ghost.

They seem more like troublemakers.

Actually, when Casca made his suggestion and asked Sevita to wear it with him, Sevita refused.

In that instant, the image of Casca in his mind collapsed.

Is this guy really an idiot?

Sevita secretly scoffed at the thought.

Many people who meet Kasgar for the first time may marvel at his unfathomable nature and doubt that beneath his youthful appearance lies unfathomable strength and cunning.

Unfortunately, whenever someone tries to show him even the slightest respect, he starts to speak.

"What do you know? This is Batman's costume. It's so much better than that Coz's tattered patchwork blouse."

Using his own knowledge, and some knowledge of materials, weaving and forging learned from Fugrim, he created several Batman bodysuits with powerful bulletproof and concealment functions.

It's bulletproof, lightweight, and even has some stealth capabilities—Kortz would never find anything like it!
"We came for you."

To be honest, adding "们" (men) significantly reduced the deterrent effect.

"WTF!"

"You are not midnight ghosts! There are never two midnight ghosts!"

Although the two men seemed to have some mental issues, their height of two and a half meters made the thugs wary.

"Who are you? Why are you pretending to be midnight ghosts?"

Casca's method of solving the problem was also very simple.

The problems of Space Gotham City should be solved using Space Batman's methods.

"Who am I? Hmph."

Kasgar gave a disdainful laugh and yanked his black cloak with a powerful tug.

"I am Alpha Midnight Ghost."

"And this one—"