Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 251 Greed Blinds the Eyes
"You're awake." A voice called from behind, startling Guilliman so much that he quickly turned to face the speaker.

He saw a tall figure sitting outside the laser fence, looking at him with a half-smile.

"Who are you?" Guilliman asked tentatively, a throbbing pain in his forehead. It was this man who had defeated him.

He sat upright, with black-armored warriors standing behind him, completely different from the Night Guards, exuding an extremely sharp aura.

Guilliman had no idea where he was, whether it was a world or a warship.

If we're talking about the world, what I see before me is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The lights reflect off the white grid walls, soft and not at all glaring. As my gaze extends outwards, I see various hatches and passageways, arranged exactly like those on a warship.

If it were a warship, the space would be too spacious and bright, the space utilization rate would seem very low, and there would be no slight vibration from the warship's engine.

With many doubts in mind, Guilliman chose the safest approach: to inquire about the other party's background and gain some initial understanding.

"Doom Norwick".

Unexpectedly, the dashing man, who was wearing power armor on his lower body and bare-chested with a mark on his chest, readily gave his name.

Robert Guilliman.

Out of politeness, Guilliman gave his name and stared intently at the man.

He had never seen such a being before, so powerful and capable that it took only a few seconds to bring him down.

Looking back now, those few seconds felt longer than any duel before, as if centuries had passed.

No matter how Guilliman reviewed his performance, he had to accept the terrible fact that he could not defeat the person in front of him.

"Why did Macurag attack us?" Doom asked Robert Guilliman, his expression turning serious. "I need an explanation."

Having captured the enemy warships and personnel, the technicians of the Royal Majesty carefully examined everyone, including the corpses.

The test results were unexpected; the Makulagh people did not exhibit any signs of mental pollution from Randan.

The reason they opened fire is therefore quite intriguing.

Doom was furious about Macurag's despicable ambush. One of the Night Elves was seriously injured and remained unconscious, teetering on the brink of death.

If he had died on the battlefield, Doom would have been heartbroken but not so angry.

Noble and valiant warriors should die on the front lines; their despicable sneak attacks are despicable to the Nuer people.

“I don’t know.” Guilliman shrugged, looking helpless. He also wanted to understand the reason that had almost cost him his life. He shook his head and smiled bitterly.

"I boarded the ship to clarify the points of contention, not to escalate the conflict between us."

"After all, the continuation of conflict means the birth of hatred. We are all human beings, rising again from the dark stars, and we should no longer kill each other."

These words are cleverly spoken, demonstrating the speaker's basic stance of having no intention of starting or ending conflict, and also expounding on the profound sense of righteousness and kinship from a grand human perspective.

Doom raised an eyebrow. The lost brother before him seemed to have grown up in the court and was an excellent politician.

With a few simple words, he completely absolved himself of responsibility and incidentally indicated that he was also one of the parties conducting the investigation.

“That’s just one side of the story,” Doom shook his head slightly, rejecting Guilliman’s sincere but politically charged explanation: “I will investigate this matter.”

He snapped his fingers, and walls of partitions rose around Guilliman's cage, cutting off all outside information.

The enclosure is not a true isolation; the inner walls of the cells have holographic projections that can transmit signals and project images.

As the cage was sealed, a cell rose up on the other side, imprisoning the spaceship's captain.

The partition of the captain's cage fell down, and he slumped inside, his face ashen. The crotch of his captain's uniform, a symbol of honor and courage, was stained discolored by a foul-smelling liquid.

Upon seeing this person on the projection wall, Guilliman took several deep breaths and sat cross-legged on the ground to suppress his anger.

He orchestrated a disgraceful sneak attack on the visitors, leaving them in a sorry state and utterly disgracing the Makula army.

They dare to do it, but lack the courage to take responsibility.

If he had a tough look on his face, Guilliman might have thought more highly of him and acknowledged him as a man of action and integrity.

Guilliman narrowed his eyes and pricked up his ears, remaining silent in his cell, wanting to hear what reason the captain would use to attack Nur the visitor and provoke this conflict that should never have happened.

"Marcus." You're not as tough as your name suggests.

The interrogator spoke, and the master interrogator, his face veiled in black robes, began questioning the criminal in a mocking tone.

Doom and the Doom Slayer were behind a partition. Such a despicable person was not worth their time to interrogate; the interrogators were more suitable.

Marcus's face paled even more, his body trembling violently. He struggled to rise from the cage, instinctively trying to grab the edge and plead his case, but was suddenly jolted awake by the intense heat. The high-energy laser scorched him, like a sharp sword cutting through his vulnerability, exposing everything about him to the interrogation master.

He was terrified. The interrogator had torture instruments covered in dark red rust hanging from his waist, which dripped as he moved.

The cowardly Marcus recalled the situation at the time.

During a routine exploratory voyage, his fleet encountered the Nuer people and granted their request to board the ships for a visit.

Marcus certainly had his own selfish motives; from the moment he saw the Noor ship, a desire called "greed" began to swell.

Warp travel, the lost technology of Macragge—if it could be offered to the King of Macragge, the family would be forever remembered in history!
The Nuer people boarding the ship were like easy prey delivered right to their doorstep.

As a captain, he was well aware of the stakes; the forces possessing subspace travel technology were highly likely to overthrow Macurag.

But how many ships go missing every day in the vast universe?
Would the opposing force really go to such lengths and expend so much financial and material resources to search for a single exploration ship?

Having figured this out, Marcus began preparing a plan to ensure everything went perfectly.

He immediately contacted a trusted confidant, who detonated a thermobaric bomb hidden inside his body during their farewell.

At this point, everything is going smoothly.

But what happened next caught him off guard, his original plan deviated from his expectations, and he fell into an abyss of madness.

The meticulously prepared molten metal bomb, which was supposed to kill everyone on the other side, failed to achieve its intended effect at the most crucial moment.

The terrifying power was blocked by personal shields, the closest core personnel were seriously injured, and a few ordinary soldiers were eliminated without much effect.

The Nuer people reacted immediately, killing everyone present and fleeing into the depths of the ship.

The spaceship reacted even faster, disengaging without hesitation before its own side opened fire and hiding using stealth technology.

Everything happened so fast that Marcus felt a wave of dizziness.

He realized that things were beyond repair and was shocked to discover his own foolishness and recklessness in trying to achieve quick success.

Since there's no turning back, let's just go all the way down this wrong path!
As long as we bring back the warp engine and eliminate the Nur, everything that happened here will be nothing more than an insignificant shadow under the Medal of Honor.

Marcus immediately ordered the fleet to besiege the Noor ships and to arm the sailors to search for the warriors who boarded the ships.

The power of those extraordinary warriors and the sharpness of the Nur ships were beyond his expectations.

Things gradually evolved into what they are now.

The fate of King Macragge is unknown, the fleet has long since withdrawn, and he himself has become a prisoner.

Marcus knew perfectly well that all of this was caused by his own greed, but he would not say it aloud.

“It was the higher-ups in Macurag who ordered me to launch a surprise attack on your side.” His voice trembled, but his eyes were exceptionally firm: “Without orders from the higher-ups, how could I dare to open fire rashly?”

Doom laughed. From the other man's trembling voice, his shifty eyes, and even his momentary erratic heartbeat, he knew Marcus was lying.

He laughed because he saw Guilliman's blank expression in the cage and almost couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Guilliman was stunned. He began to doubt himself, wondering if he had mistakenly approved the document, causing Marcus's fleet to open fire.

Within a second, all the files were recalled, but no relevant information was found.

“Lies!” Guilliman growled in the cage, his iron fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

If he could break through now, he would tear Marcus apart alive.

"Why did they order you to fire?" The interrogation master didn't reveal the answer, but instead nodded thoughtfully, following Marcus's train of thought.

One lie requires more lies to cover it up and prove it, eventually leading to logical problems.

“Uh…” Marcus hesitated slightly, but his beady eyes were dazzled by the interrogation tools of the master interrogator. He stammered, “The higher-ups want to plunder your subspace travel technology.”

This statement was half true and half false, projecting the true intentions onto the so-called "higher-ups".

"How did you know what the higher-ups were thinking?" The interrogation master's voice was slightly sarcastic, as if he saw through everything.

Marcus fell silent, licking his dry lips with his tongue, his mustache twitching, his brain racing as he pondered how to weave a lie.

Just as he was pondering this, the partition next to him suddenly slammed down, and King Macragge was staring at him with a face full of resentment and red eyes!
"I should have thrown you to the dogs long ago!" Guilliman cursed.

(End of this chapter)