Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

After speaking, he tried to regain his composure, then strolled leisurely to the front of the crowd and spread his arms wide.

“Tell me, Macedonians, those with any normal sense would consider this filthy, something that should be avoided! Do you think so?”

The crowd became indignant. How could anyone like such filthy things? Of course not!

Why is this guy with that ridiculous, pretentious look asking such obvious questions? Doesn't he think he looks incredibly stupid?

Two or three friends laughed at each other, but then noticed that their companion's expression was a little abnormal, and there were even signs of swallowing.

His fingers were loosely clenched, as if he were grasping something.

What's even more terrifying is that this feeling slowly seeped into his own mind, and he even began to think about the fact that he was holding an indescribable thing in his hand and wanted to understand it.

It's bad that something has polluted their hearts and changed the hygiene concepts instilled in them in the past!

Although it seems like you can suppress it with your inner strength, it's inevitable that you'll think of it one day while eating.

However, even normal people have this experience. Just like the widely circulated saying, don't go to the toilet while eating.

But the emotions I was trying to suppress seemed to have grown tenfold!

Seeing the heated debate gradually subside into a bitter silence, like a mouthful of bitter melon, Anda couldn't stop laughing, patting his stomach.

"Listen up from now on, no playing with poop! If you're talking about academic research purposes, that's a long way off."

He snapped his fingers.

Everyone's scalp was torn apart, the skull was ripped open along the suture line, and the brain organs were piled up and limp inside the skull.

It's hard to describe; it looks like a pile of something, and it also looks a lot like white poop.

"Hmm, normally it should at least be shaped like a walnut. These people are really full of shit, and their brains are actually shaped like shit."

Anda sighed, deeply saddened by the state of human heads.

He moved his fingers, sterilizing his hands with golden flames, and then came before the people to begin reshaping their brains.

"Aaron, you silly son! Don't you love looking at these things? Come and take a look, you might need them someday."

"Ah—I have to say, squeezing someone's brain feels almost the same as squeezing poop."

"Throw Angron aside! Don't let him see this, I'm worried he might find food for me in the toilet one day!"

Aaron, his face beaming with excitement at learning something new, followed his father.

However, it was Marum who explained the specific structure of the brain, since the old man didn't understand anything and was just relying on instinct to treat it.

It might even be possible to simply shape it into a normal working form.

Angron was thrown to the ground, and he had to jump to see what was happening, but his view was completely blocked.

"Dad, let me see too! I can tell the difference between what I can and can't eat!"

Anda continued working with his hands, letting out a cold snort:

"Hmph? Don't think I don't know what you're thinking. All you've ever thought is that I'll have to digest all the tasteless or inedible stuff you make."

"If you ever actually go to the toilet to find me food, I'll kick you in. Trust me, Anglong, I never break my word when it comes to these things."

Resuming double updates

I've been on a business trip at a client's factory this week, and typing on my phone in the hotel at night has been so painful, I really apologize.

Bubble always writes the next day's chapters a day in advance, and now she's trying to get back to updating twice a day.

Enough said, let's get to writing, I can't let you all down.

Chapter 319 The Emperor's Leg Hair, the Ugly Phoenix's New Hair

The earliest known craniotomy is no longer reliable, but it can at least be confirmed that it was performed in primitive times.

Furthermore, the presence of bone healing marks after the craniotomy indicates that the patient survived for some time after the surgery.

However, Adachi's skills were impeccable; he didn't even need to stitch up the wound.

After recarving the pattern and shape on the brain, they simply slapped the skull back onto the head, and the flesh grew back on its own.

The only thing that's really upsetting is that it feels like carving flowers on shit.

"Aaron, remember this clearly. This was created by my great power. A normal surgical environment should be sterile and hygienic."

Adachi is occasionally quite responsible and knows to remind people of key conditions.

There was no accidental slip that resulted in someone dropping their brain on the ground.

With the last person's skull being closed, like a pot lid being shut, this unique craniotomy came to an end.

"All done, mission accomplished, time to go home and cook!"

Anda clapped his hands and looked for a patient's clothes of a suitable color to wipe them clean.

Aaron leaned closer to take a look and sensed that something was amiss.

No one has regained their senses yet, which is very distressing for Aaron.

Everyone became like an idiot, unable to control the flow of saliva from their mouths, and unable to look in the same direction with either eye.

"Are you sure that their current state—dazed, unsteady on their feet, with blurred vision, and even wanting to bite—is a full recovery?"

After Anda dirtied someone's clothes, he looked at his clean hands in the sunlight and said inexplicably:

"It takes time for a machine to start up after being unplugged and plugged back in, let alone the human brain. Just leave them alone, and they will recover on their own in an hour or two."

Adachi's tone was urgent; she really wanted to go home for dinner, and she didn't forget the disclaimer:

"Let me make this clear beforehand: if anyone still wants to come into contact with filth after this is over, it's not my responsibility, but rather that they would have such an impulse under normal circumstances. Even without the influence of the Chaos God, people's minds are inevitably prone to filth."

He still felt a little uneasy and wondered if he should make a disclaimer and have all these people put their fingerprints on it and sign it.

His post-operative recovery is none of his business!

His gaze suddenly became earnest, fixed intently on his son:

“Back in Marum’s time, there was a saying: ‘Life is my currency.’ I was incredibly stingy; I wouldn’t give up a single penny.”

Aaron was at a loss for words to describe his father's heartfelt words.

It sounds like the emotions are genuine, but why does the wording sound so awkward?

"Alright, I'll trust you this time, but we need to move them all together first, so that no one might accidentally wander into a dangerous place."

Anda chuckled and ordered Marum to break off a few trees and make a fence.

He lifted Angron up with one hand, put his arm around Aaron's shoulder with the other, and didn't forget to tease him:

"What do you mean by 'trust me just this once'? You should trust me unconditionally."

Before long, the family walked along the road, chatting about what to eat that night, their shadows stretching long on the ground, as the sun began to set.

If someone manages to return to the vicinity of the mended subspace rift, they might even find a few leg hairs.

More of it has sunk into the subspace, and it is unknown where it will end up.

More than 42,000 years later, the war between the garden and the labyrinth did not last long.

At least it didn't affect Mortarian's reception of his brother.

The Emperor's son's fleet sailed in a grand procession toward a small world on the outskirts of the garden, a place that had once been dealt with by the Plague Army.

Even by the standards of the Lord of Pleasure, it could be described as clean and hygienic, only devoid of life.

If it weren't for the prior letter, the demon in the garden would have assumed it was another attack by the legion of those wretched cursed ones.

Mortarian stood on the lookout tower of the world's only port, watching the familiar fleet slowly descend before him.

He had seen the Emperor's Son's fleet land at the starports of Terra more than once, and at every award ceremony, this fleet was at the forefront.

The warlord would generously give these opportunities to his brothers, but he was unaware of it.

In fact, the father would prepare gifts for each of his sons. And coincidentally, Fugrim liked medals that represented honor.

What I received were all some practical little gadgets.

Before long, the shuttle boat responsible for transporting and receiving personnel landed, following the regulations and procedures from more than 10,000 years ago.

Coincidentally, the legion guarding him today also showed few signs of contamination.

If he were to fold his wings and have his picture taken by a reporter from ten thousand years ago, probably no one would think he was a traitor corrupted by chaos.

As the hatch of the shuttle ship closed, a petite human figure slowly stepped out.

It was a human with silver hair and purple eyes, a handsome and resolute expression, and wearing a tattered Terra-style captain's uniform.

"My brother, Mortarian!"

"Witness my new identity, Lerian of the Merchant Ronin Dynasty! My legion has reached an agreement with you, borrowing your production lines."

"As for me, I'm going to carry out a critical mission: to steal something from the boss."

Lerian pulled an ancient contract from his sleeve, a document bearing the proof of the merchant ronin dynasty.

It was issued by the War Commander.

But it doesn't matter. As long as I keep things in check with everyone in the empire, no one will be so blind as to investigate this.

Mortalian was not interested in his brother's role-playing; what he cared about was how much they would pay for using their production line.

"Put your plans aside for now. Can you provide what I need? Trade directly with me instead of with your benevolent father."

Leili pretended to be panicked, but then started to tease him:

"Oh my! How many fathers have you had? Xiao Mo, how come you still haven't learned to love your own father? You're like someone born rebellious, always going against your own father."

Mortarian was now unfazed by praise or criticism and was not angry. He simply extended his hand and asked for payment.

For some reason, Lerian's opinion of his brother's current resolve has changed somewhat. If Mortalian can stick to his will and not waver, he can be considered a hero.

He folded open the contract document and took out a scale that was folded inside.

He held it between his fingers, examined it carefully, and was still full of admiration.

"No, the scales of Vorkan. As the only immortal among the Primarchs, he may be the key to our return to the material world and the construction of our bodies."

"It seems you have your own little plans, but I'm not Magnus, so I won't ask you anything."