I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 250 is the same

Regan's feelings were complicated after talking with Sally. He got out of the command vehicle, holding the now-cold synthetic coffee, his mind still replaying the helplessness in Sally's icy blue eyes.

As soon as he landed, before he could even steady himself, he caught a glimpse of three figures crouching furtively in the shadows of the armor plating on the side of the command vehicle, their heads huddled together, whispering something to each other.

The battlefield environment of the Plantim Sector kept Regan on edge at all times. This sudden discovery made his hair stand on end, and his hand instinctively reached for the explosive pistol at his waist.

"Who?!"

He let out a sharp shout, almost drawing his gun. However, upon closer inspection, the three familiar silhouettes instantly extinguished any murderous intent he had just mustered.

Regan withdrew his hand impatiently and said to the three dark figures, "What are you three doing here? Playing dumb?"

Unable to dodge in time, the three men had no choice but to step out of the shadows, their faces showing the embarrassment of being caught red-handed. Tang Ren, the leader, his eyes darting around, immediately tried to take advantage of the situation. He straightened his back and, in a tone of feigned surprise, exclaimed loudly, "Hey, what a coincidence, Political Commissar! The three of us were just discussing where to take a dump!"

“Taking a dump…” Regan’s lips twitched violently.

Even though he knew perfectly well that Tang Ren was talking nonsense, the sheer impact of the word "poop" left him momentarily speechless.

“Yes, yes,” Cai Ji quickly chimed in, then, as if suddenly remembering something, he enthusiastically extended an invitation, “By the way, Political Commissar, this is a rare opportunity, why don’t we go together? It’ll be more fun with more people!”

Regan felt a throbbing pain in his temples, his face contorted in an indescribable expression of agony: "That's unnecessary, I don't feel anything..."

As for Fei Wu, he was still holding that military-grade can without fail, digging out a large piece of "ant-bean meat" with a military shovel. Heaven knows how he could so calmly stuff something into his mouth while discussing such vulgar topics.

"It's alright. Just squat down in the field and you'll get a feel for it even if you don't feel anything at first," Tang Ren continued to patiently persuade him, as if this was an important activity to enhance team cohesion.

Regan couldn't take it anymore. He waved his hand, interrupting the absurd conversation: "Alright! If it's not important, I'm leaving if you keep bringing this up."

"Hey, wait a minute, Political Commissar!" Tang Ren quickly stepped forward and stopped Ruigen, finally revealing his true colors. He rubbed his hands together and asked with a gossipy smile, "Political Commissar, what did you and your old classmate do in the car for so long? Did you talk about something... special?"

Looking at the three of them with their eyes sparkling with curiosity (and gossip), Regan felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

These are hardly the elite troops of the empire, nor are they a death squad. They're clearly just a bunch of gossipy petty citizens stationed at the village entrance, endlessly curious about the gossip of their neighbors!

He now feels incredibly ashamed of the ambitious plans he had when he first arrived at the regiment, which he had envisioned for how to completely control the unit.

He wants to control them? That's a pipe dream. In a sense, he and Sally Harris are facing the same dilemma.

Meanwhile, Sally Harris returned to the 266th Regiment's camp.

Everything here stood in stark contrast to the chaos of the 143rd Regiment. No debris was visible on the ground; makeshift tents and fortifications were laid out in neat rows and columns, as if drawn with a ruler. Patrolling sentries moved with a steady, measured pace, following fixed routes. Soldiers maintaining their weapons were focused and silent, the only sounds the soft hum of metal parts being serviced.

Every soldier who passes by her, regardless of rank, will immediately stop and give her an impeccable salute, with firm eyes and standard movements.

"Madam Political Commissar."

They would address her that way, in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, but clear and respectful.

However, this textbook-perfect respect acted like an invisible wall, firmly isolating Sally. Instead of a sense of belonging, she felt a constant reminder that "you are an outsider."

After hesitating for a moment, Sally finally gave up the idea of ​​wandering around the camp. She knew that wherever she went, she would receive the same polite but distant treatment. So, she turned and walked towards her assigned quarters—a modified chimera command vehicle. Outside the vehicle, two armed guards stood ramrod straight like statues. As she approached, they simultaneously raised their hands in salute, their movements perfectly synchronized.

The guards of the Death Squad, besides providing protection, also served a surveillance function, and were all directly assigned from within the squad, not selected by her. This intensified Sally's sense of alienation. But she also knew that all the officers in the squad, including Colonel Zhang Xiuwen himself, were in the same boat.

Even the most basic thing like eating has become a ritual that deepens the divide between people.

Seri initially wanted to eat the same food as everyone else. However, the 266th Regiment held a short meeting specifically for this and ultimately decided to assign a cook to be solely responsible for her daily meals.

This "special treatment" might make some officers from noble families feel smug, but for Sally, it only made her feel more uncomfortable. It was like a host warmly welcoming a guest who had come from afar; no matter how hospitable the host was, the guest was still just a guest.

But what she wanted was to be a member of this family!

Inside the command vehicle, the assigned cook was wiping down a portable cooking station. When he saw Sally enter, he immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Ms. Sally, what would you like for dinner? The logistics department delivered a batch of fresh synthetic protein blocks and nutrient solutions today,” he said, his tone equally respectful, yet equally distant.

“Just do it the same as usual,” Sally replied absentmindedly, sitting down in a chair nearby.

She placed the explosive pistol on the table, crossed her arms, rested her chin on her hand, and fell into deep thought. How could she possibly take a real step towards integrating into this army? Did she really have to wait until she reached the front lines, experienced a brutal and bloody battle, and break through this barrier with the blood of those she fought alongside?

Just then, a barely perceptible scraping sound, like metal being scraped, came from above.

The sound was extremely faint, as if it were just the wind blowing across the roof. But Sally's years of battlefield experience honed her alertness, and she instantly tensed up.

"Tear—!"

The commotion suddenly intensified! With a piercing metallic tearing sound, the metal roof of the command vehicle was violently ripped open like a piece of paper by a pair of sharp claws! Two ferocious creatures with bat wings and bony armor descended from the sky through the breach, one rushing straight at Sally, while the other charged at the cook who was opening a can of food!

Terrence Gargoyle!
The beast was incredibly fast, its foul-smelling saliva leaving trails of liquid in the air.

In a flash, Sally remained completely calm. She leaned back sharply, the chair overturning, and her right hand swiftly grabbed the explosive pistol from the table.

"boom!"

A deafening gunshot rang out in the cramped carriage. A large-caliber explosive shell struck the gargoyle's open mouth with pinpoint accuracy, detonating violently from within!
The monster's head exploded into a mass of bloody and fleshy fragments in an instant. The headless corpse continued to rush forward due to the enormous inertia, slamming heavily onto the spot where Sally had just been sitting. It twitched a few times and then stopped moving.

Almost simultaneously with the gunshots, the sounds of gunfire and sirens blared outside the camp! War had arrived in the most unexpected way.

Selene rolled over and got up, turning to help the cook. She hadn't forgotten about the gargoyle, but what she saw shocked her.

The second gargoyle lay at his feet, its neck cleanly cleaved open by a heavy cleaver. The cook, without batting an eye, pulled out the knife and turned to ask, "Ms. Sally, are you alright?"

"Uh, I'm fine," the cook's fighting prowess caught Sally off guard for a moment. However, she quickly recovered and issued orders, "You go where you're supposed to be, I'm going to command post right now!"

“Yes,” the cook nodded. He glanced at the breach in the roof of the vehicle, listened to the gunfire outside, and calmly analyzed, “We are theoretically in the rear area, yet we have encountered Tyrannical units. They are launching a full-scale counterattack.”

Sally wasn't surprised that a cook could make such a sound strategic assessment so quickly. The ubiquitous "Soldiers' Committee" within the Death Squad met daily to discuss the battle and relay intelligence. In comparison, these rank-and-file soldiers probably knew more about the overall battle situation than even company-level officers in the Star Forces.

(End of this chapter)