Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 108 Flawless

Three o'clock in the morning, the temporary barracks of the defense troops at the eastern granary.

Buck did not sleep in the separate folding bed that belonged to the commander.

He huddled in a corner near the ventilation shaft, with two military blankets under him.

This is the best blind spot for shooting in the entire barracks.

It is also the position most likely to launch a counterattack when attacked.

The one-eyed veteran was clutching the precision-engineered explosive gun "Emperor's Wrath" tightly in his arms.

To prevent water droplets from condensing on the internal components of the firearm due to a sudden drop in temperature at night.

He removed the wool lining from his coat and wrapped the gun tightly, leaving only the trigger guard exposed so that his fingers could touch it at any time.

He was frowning in his sleep, his lips twitching, mumbling something indistinctly.

"Buzz".

A soft electronic buzzing sound suddenly rang out from the corner.

The frequency is very high, giving it a warning tone after being violated.

A sharp red light flashed on the heat dissipation grille on the surface of the gun.

Buck sprang up from his bed as if he'd been electrocuted.

Before he even opened his eyes, his body had already completed the tactical maneuvers of taking up his gun, loading it, and finding cover.

"Enemy attack?!"

Buck roared.

The surrounding soldiers were awakened and frantically grabbed the laser guns next to them.

However, apart from the emergency lights, there was no trace of the enemy inside the barracks.

Only the precision-engineered bomb gun in Buck's arms continued to emit a persistent buzzing sound.

Faced with this anomaly, Buck became highly alert and hurriedly sent someone to inform Father Alpha.

"Take it easy, mortal."

Soon, a cold, synthesized electronic voice came from the doorway.

Father Alpha's signature red robe appeared in the shadows.

Behind him, several servo robotic arms were carrying toolboxes and jars of holy oil for maintenance.

The priest ignored the panicked soldiers around him and walked straight up to Buck.

The mechanical prosthetic eye, glowing red, fired a fan-shaped scanning beam that enveloped Buck and the weapon in his arms.

"The readings indicate that the soul of this sacred creation just experienced a logical circuit overload."

Father Alpha extended his mechanical tentacles and gently tapped the receiver cover of the explosive gun, reading data.

"You're holding me too tightly."

The priest criticized him sternly.

"Your vital signs, including heartbeat, body temperature, and excessive sweating, are putting constant pressure on its sophisticated sensor array."

"The machine spirit feels suffocated." This is blasphemy, soldier. You should enshrine it on a temperature-controlled gun rack, not use it as a pillow.

Buck was stunned.

Embarrassment and fear were evident on his scarred face.

This gun was a gift from Lo Wei; it was the most advanced gadget he had ever touched in his life.

He was terrified that someone would steal his gun belt while he slept, or that rats would gnaw on it.

"I—the priest, I just—love it so much."

Buck stammered as he tried to explain, awkwardly wanting to hand over the gun but unable to let go.

According to relevant regulations, in the event of such an incident, this precision-engineered explosive gun must be recalled.

Father Alpha watched this scene unfold.

At the heart of his logic, he rapidly processes the scanned data.

Aside from the alarm peak caused by the compression, the energy transmission efficiency of this bomb gun was actually 0.5% higher than that of the standard standby state.

The priest remained silent for a moment before retracting the mechanical tentacles.

However, the data doesn't lie.

The priest's tone softened, and he said coldly, "The machine spirit expressed its dissatisfaction just now, but its core logic did not reject your biomagnetic field."

"On the contrary, your body temperature keeps its stimulating drug chamber in a comfortable preheated state."

The priest turned and continued his inspection of the electrical box, leaving only one comment: "It acknowledges your dedication to protection, even if in a primitive and crude way."

Buck stood there, scratching his head with a silly grin.

He held the gun back to his chest, this time much more gently.

For him, this gun was more than just a weapon.

It is dignity, the confidence to live.

It is also the only tangible hope that mortals can grasp when facing despair.

For the next seven days, the eastern grain depot entered a long-awaited period of calm.

Millions of acres of common wheat in zones C through F have entered their regular harvest season.

A monster plant without genetic mutation.

The root system was not sprayed with strong acid.

There were no lurking followers of Nurgle.

This is just the most ordinary durum wheat, meeting the standards of imperial agriculture.

The twelve old-fashioned combine harvesters used to harvest "Grey Mule No. 1" were put to proper use after being repaired by Father Alpha.

They roared across the fields, kicking up clouds of straw dust.

What was an inefficient work environment for Loewe was a rare moment of happiness for the serfs and refugees at the bottom of society.

They don't need to wear heavy protective suits.

There's no need to worry that the wheat around you will suddenly come to life and eat you.

All they need to do is work hard to earn their food rations today.

From the observation tower of the administration building, through the acid mist, Lowe looked down at the bustling scene.

Old John climbed up, panting, holding a copy of the latest rumor report.

Old John wiped the sweat from his brow and said with a strange expression, "Supervisor, the workers are talking about it among themselves."

"They say the green light they saw in the A-3 experimental field a few days ago was a manifestation of the Swamp Old Man. They say that old man removed the toxins from the land and blessed this bountiful harvest."

"Some people even secretly hung straw-woven old man dolls on combine harvesters."

Lowe listened expressionlessly, then pondered, "This isn't a miracle. The so-called 'green light' is merely the bio-rejection fluorescence produced by the highly silicified roots remaining underground after 'Grey Mule 1' was harvested, which overingested radioactive dust and heavy metals at night."

"As for the Swamp Elder" — this is an ancient superstition that has been passed down in the bottom nest and wasteland since the colonial era.

"It is a benevolent elder, a false god of harvest, imagined by the ignorant in the face of incomprehensible suffering."

Luo Wei knew that this was also a cognitive firewall tacitly approved by the Empire.

It's better to have the people worship a fictional old man of the swamp than to make them face the real horrors of the underworld, and better than to directly recite the true name of the "Lord of the Plague."

The former was merely superstition, while the latter marked the beginning of an extermination order.

Old John beside him moved his dry lips, his face full of unease and anxiety, hesitant to speak.

Once upon a time, during the days when he was so hungry that he could only gnaw on the plaster of the walls, he, like the laborers below, begged the "Old Man of the Swamp" for even a piece of moldy starch in despair.

Since following Luo Wei to take over logistics and witnessing the true "thunderous methods" and "cleanup procedures," this thin, old man has completed a brutal "ideological iteration."

He now understands better than anyone that in this cold universe, apart from the holy emperor, no "wild god" outside the official religious system is a benefactor who saves people from suffering.

Rather, it could cause the entire granary, along with all the people in it, to be fatally contaminated through "physical write-off".

"No need to stop it."

Luo Wei waved his hand and said...

"As long as they don't perform human sacrifices, waste production time on shamanistic rituals, or go on strike, let them believe whatever they want."

In this godforsaken place, fear and superstition are cheap and effective mental anesthetics.

If you can't give them hope, then don't take away their illusions.

Sometimes, false faith is more effective at maintaining order than the whip.

This also allows these lowly laborers to work a few more hours before they break down.

Old John nodded solemnly and withdrew.

Lovi looked to the other side.

That was the A-3 experimental field, heavily surrounded by barbed wire and warning signs.

The land after the "Grey Mule No. 1" was harvested turned an eerie, pale white.

The heavy metals, toxins, organic matter, and bacteria in the soil were all greedily plundered by the crops.

Serfs and laborers could bathe directly in this mud.

However, this whiteness seemed out of place on the filth and corrosion-filled Abundance II.

An overly pure area can also easily attract the attention of beings in the subspace who crave to corrupt everything.

Therefore, asset disguise is necessary.

"Let's begin."

Luo Wei gave the order through the communicator.

Several heavy-duty sewage trucks were waiting at the edge of the restricted area.

As the valve opened, viscous industrial waste liquid gushed out from the thick black pipe.

This is strong acid slag from a ore washing plant, and highly toxic waste recovered from a chemical plant.

A black, filthy torrent roared as it surged into the pale, lifeless land.

A pungent acidic mist rose up, obscuring the originally fresh air.

The pristine soil was stained black again and corroded.

It became dirty and foul-smelling again, filled with a nauseating chemical odor.

Luo Wei's gaze was calm.

He is destroying the "purity" of this land with his own hands.

In order to survive, he had to disguise this place as a worthless, toxic garbage dump.

Only in this way can we deceive the greedy eyes of those in the subspace.

It can also fool the Imperial Inquisition, and the occasional scrutiny they receive.

This was a necessary act of evil.

On the morning of the eighth day.

Lowe was in his office, carefully checking the inventory list.

The black ring on my ring finger suddenly emitted a continuous pulse.

An encrypted communication request from the Governor's Office.

Luo Wei stopped working and pressed the call button.

The holographic projection device emitted a slight hum, and pale blue beams of light intertwined above the desk.

To Ping's surprise, it was not Lilith's cold and hard face that appeared in the light and shadow.

It was Alicia van Valentius herself.

The young governor was in the dressing room at the top of the spire.

Several servants, with the assistance of the servo arms, were painstakingly fastening the last few plates onto her full suit of power armor.

The heavy adamantite armor was covered with medals passed down through generations of her family, making her originally upright figure appear somewhat heavy.

Upon seeing that the communication was connected, Alicia dismissed the servants around her.

As the outsiders left, a rare hint of weariness appeared on her dignified and refined face.

This is the exhaustion of someone who has long struggled in the treacherous power grinder of the upper echelons of the capital, a burden no one can share.

Only when facing Luo Wei, the "white glove" she had personally promoted and with whom she shared deep interests, did she allow herself a moment of relaxation.

Good morning, Lo Wei.

Alicia's voice cut through the static of the electricity.

Compared to the usual coldness of the Executive Yuan, it contains a touch of texture and gentleness belonging to the private sphere.

She did not use official language.

Instead, they went straight to the point.

This is the tacit understanding that has now been cultivated between the master and servant.

"The Empire's tithe fleet is already anchored in synchronization orbit. The Ministry of the Interior's shuttle will land in three hours."

"The location is set at the northern grain depot. There are deep-space take-off and landing platforms there large enough to accommodate heavy transport aircraft."

At this point, Alicia's purple eyes, seen through the holographic image, became somewhat solemn: "There's one more thing I must personally remind you of. The senior auditor from the Ministry of the Interior leading the team is Marquez."

"I heard that when he was reviewing the list, he skipped over the senior members of the Executive Yuan and specifically asked you to participate in the entire handover process as the only agricultural advisor for the Fengrao No. 2 project."

The female governor's gaze lingered on Lowe for a moment, as if to confirm his condition, before she said softly, "When Case was still the supervisor, you should have experienced the methods of this cyborg firsthand. He only cares about data, not human lives."

"This naming and shaming might not be a good thing—you need to be careful. I don't want anything to happen to my advisor at the closing ceremony."

Luo Wei's heart stirred slightly.

He understood the affection behind those words.

Human life is like a mustard.

The governor's concerns were undoubtedly invaluable.

Luo Wei closed the ledger but did not rush to cut off the communication.

Meeting Alicia's gaze, he calmly replied, "Understood, Your Excellency. I will depart immediately. The accounts have been balanced. Whatever Márquez wishes to see, I have prepared."

After finishing his business, Luo Wei suddenly changed the subject, his gaze shifting slightly upwards to the swan-like neck of the female governor in the holographic projection.

"However, before that, Your Excellency the Governor—"

Luo Wei raised his hand, across the void.

Pointing to the left side of his neck, Wen Chun said, "The third magnetic clasp on your neck armor isn't fully engaged; it's caught a strand of your hair."

Alicia in the holographic image looked slightly taken aback.

He immediately reached out and touched it instinctively.

Sure enough, her fingertips touched a strand of silver hair held back by a piece of fine gold armor.

This is an oversight left by the clumsy machine servant during the final assembly.

"Those machine servants should be sent for rework."

Luo Wei watched her hurriedly straighten her hair and reattach her nail clippers, then smiled slightly and said, "Normally, I would be happy to do it for you myself. But now, you'll have to do it yourself."

"Don't let the auditors from the Ministry of the Interior see your exhaustion, Your Excellency."

"In their presence, you must be the second Abundance, the most perfect. Like a marble statue, flawless."