In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

[Osiris: Indeed. No geneseed, no chapter culture, no recruit selection. Were the four of us supposed to start from scratch?]

Solomon: Even if we had the gene seed and the recruits, who among us would know how to manage a warband? Do you? Do I? This isn't a game where you can just throw fifty bucks at a good buddy.

Caesar was rendered speechless. Indeed, playing a game and actually managing a Space Marine chapter are two completely different things.

Solomon sighed, then suddenly, as if remembering something, his eyes lit up.

"Wait a minute!"

Solomon suddenly sat up straight, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

"We certainly don't know how, but someone does! And they've even thoughtfully written a textbook on it!"

Vlad looked completely bewildered: "The Empire has this kind of incineration technique? Where do I get it?"

Caesar seemed to have guessed something, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Solomon picked up a data board, tapped it a few times, and then a golden title appeared.

The Astartes

"Pfft—" Vlad almost spat out his drink. "Damn, I thought it was some kind of peerless martial arts technique, but it turns out it's just toilet paper written by Grandpa Lan?"

Solomon shrugged helplessly. "I used to mock Thirteenth Master's writing as toilet paper, but I never thought I'd actually need this holy book after transmigrating."

"To be honest, the book written by the Thirteenth Prince is indeed very detailed. It covers everything from battle group operations and tactical coordination to recruit training. It's really useful as a reference manual."

“Of course,” Solomon added, “We’re only referring to the framework; the specifics… will definitely have to be heavily modified. After all, this piece of junk has been used for ten thousand years, and the situations it faces are long outdated.”

Upon hearing this, the group could only nod in agreement. After all, besides this "toilet paper" book, they had no other reference books.

Now that the general direction has been set, it's time for friends to connect and build their friendship.

Solomon suddenly remembered something and grabbed Vlad by the neck.

“Oh right, there’s still one score to settle.” Solomon narrowed his eyes, his tone dangerous. “You brat, even though we’ve been calling each other by our old gaming usernames since we transmigrated, what’s with you calling me ‘Lockhouse’? You really don’t remember I’m not surnamed Solomon, do you?”

"Cough cough... Let go... Godfather, let go!"

Vlad struggled to break free from Solomon's clutches, rubbed his neck, and blinked innocently.

"Dude, use your brain! This is the Warhammer universe!"

Vlad suddenly dropped his playful demeanor, his expression becoming unusually serious, even taking on a professional analytical air.

"There are too many mysterious and unsavory tricks in this wretched universe. Revealing your real name is far too dangerous, so using a code name is the safest option, understand?"

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

Solomon, Caesar, and Osiris stared wide-eyed, their mouths agape, as if they were seeing an Eugene lecturing on advanced mathematics.

"Holy crap..." Caesar swallowed hard. "Has Vlad been possessed by the demon Tzeentch? Quick, Osiris, get his brain checked!"

"Damn it, medicine doesn't have this function! Solomon, quickly activate the halo and check the ingredients! This is definitely not the Vlad we know!" Osiris was also shocked.

"How could my eldest son, who never uses his brain, possess such wisdom?" Solomon exclaimed, his face filled with anguish.

Seeing the three men's expressions, as if they had seen a ghost, Vlad was furious.

"Get lost! Do you really think your brother is an idiot?"

Vlad rolled his eyes in annoyance: "I'm just being wise in disguise! Usually, with the three of you smart guys taking the lead, I'm too lazy to use my brain. It doesn't mean I have a brain but don't use it! We extreme sports people, if we didn't use our brains, we'd be finished long ago, right?"

Seeing that the three of them still had expressions that said, "I don't believe you, you must be possessed by something evil," Vlad laughed in exasperation.

He rolled his eyes and decided to shift the blame elsewhere.

"Hey, stop staring at me." Vlad pointed at Solomon. "If we're talking about outrageous things, who's more outrageous than old Solomon?"

"Think about it, Old Suo has been a complete weakling since he was a kid. He's never lost an argument, but he's never won a fight."

Vlad gestured exaggeratedly: "And then? He just ripped open the skull of a Dark Apostle of the Word Bearers! And that was an Astartes veteran! Isn't that even more bizarre?"

This tactic worked.

Caesar and Osiris's attention was instantly diverted, their curious gazes turning to Solomon.

“Oh right.” Caesar stroked his chin. “You should also tell me honestly, how did you do that?”

“Exactly.” Osiris also looked curious. “Did you secretly use some kind of cheat we don’t know about?”

Solomon felt uneasy under Solomon's gaze and coughed lightly, "Ahem, well... luck, it's all luck."

"Don't even try!" the three said in unison.

"Give us a demonstration!" Vlad jeered. "Come on, let's see the true value of this 'Master of Skills'!"