Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 111 Freedom

The inspection team that Márquez brought was not the kind of timid human clerks that Loewy usually encountered.

Those were dozens of servo skulls suspended in mid-air.

There is also a team of heavily modified "arithmetic servants".

The brains of these servants have been removed and replaced with pump-type logic processing cores.

Their fingers were modified into multifunctional plugs and probes.

As the inspection process began, the machine operators pulled out long rolls of parchment.

The red light emitted by the laser scanner swept across every inch of the goods.

The quill pen moved wildly across the parchment, recording readings of weight, density, humidity, and radiation.

Marquez moved to the first batch of "Grey Mule-1" finished products, which were awaiting acceptance.

These black, high-energy compressed blocks were neatly stacked on radiation-proof trays, radiating residual industrial heat that had not yet completely dissipated.

The mechanical tax official raised the mechanical claw on his right arm, from which a thin tungsten steel probe emerged.

With a "plop," it pierced directly into the hard, iron-like interior of the block.

The indicator light at the end of the probe changed color instantly.

It jumped from green to yellow, and finally settled on a dazzling red.

The multispectral scanner on the left side of Marquez's head rotated to focus, and a cold, synthesized electronic voice said, "Abnormal readings."

"The lead content exceeds the standard by 400%."

"Critical mercury content."

"Contains residues of unknown neurotoxins."

Marquez turned around, his mechanical eyes locking onto Lovi.

"According to Amendment 442 to the Imperial Food Safety Act, this shipment is classified as Class III toxic industrial waste. Advisor Lowe, are you trying to use this to offset the sacred tithe?"

Everyone's breath caught in their throats.

However, Lo Wei had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

He stepped forward, pulled out a pre-prepared report from his data panel, and handed it over with both hands.

"Your Excellency Tax Officer, your cited legal provisions are accurate."

"If this was intended for civilian food supplies," then this batch of goods should indeed be destroyed immediately, and those responsible should be punished by burning at the stake."

At this moment, Luo Wei was extremely calm.

His voice pierced through the roar of the engine.

"But please cite Article 12 of Chapter 7 of the Wartime Energy Supplies Provisions."

"The declared category of this batch of goods is not food rations," but rather solid biofuel/emergency high-energy compressed blocks.

""

"Its calorific value is 32 times that of standard starch blocks."

"Its combustion efficiency is sufficient to support the Chimera tanks in the Armageddon theater of operations to start up in extremely cold environments."

"It is enough to sustain a Star Guardian soldier for three days of basic physical strength in the event of a supply shortage."

"As for heavy metals and trace toxins, these are stabilizers that are necessary to ensure energy density."

"Love paused for a moment."

It presents a chart showing the tolerance data of the human digestive tract.

"On the front lines, compared to starvation, this amount of heavy metal deposits and toxins is negligible, especially since the average soldier's survival time is no more than 15 days."

In the heat of battle, casualties are negligible.

Marquez took the data panel.

His probe was inserted into the interface, and all the data was read instantly.

The core logic is operating at high speed.

A few seconds later, the red light in Márquez's eyes began to flash less frequently.

"Redefining the category: solid biofuels."

"Calorific value calculation: Passed."

"Toxicity exemption: Meets wartime standards."

Marquez retracted the probe, and the mechanical claw stamped a red seal on the parchment.

"That's very efficient, Mr. Lowe. You're very good at finding paths within the gaps in the rules."

Just as the two were talking.

One of the porters, perhaps overly alarmed by witnessing Bill's horrific electric shock, was carrying out the work.

Perhaps it was due to working continuously for twenty hours, leading to physical exhaustion.

His hand trembled as he was carrying a box of "Grey Mule-1".

The heavy box slipped.

"Bang!"

One corner of the box crashed heavily to the ground.

Several black compressed blocks rolled out, with a corner of their surface chipped off.

The laborer was so frightened that his face turned ashen, and he knelt on the ground, trembling all over, kowtowing desperately.

"Buzz".

One of the servo skulls behind Marquez immediately turned around.

The laser cutter beneath the skull lit up red, locking onto the worker's neck.

For the Ministry of the Interior, damaging tithe goods is an unforgivable crime.

The execution procedure is activated automatically.

"Wait a moment."

Lo Wei's voice rang out again.

He showed no pity whatsoever.

He simply walked quickly to the broken compressed blocks, bent down, picked one up, and examined the cross-section.

"The structure is intact, with only surface wear. It does not affect combustion efficiency."

Rowe stood up and coldly ordered Buck, "Put this thing back."

Seeing that Márquez did not object, Rowe then ordered, "Drag this laborer away. Deduct all the rations for his group for the next three days as compensation for the potential mental distress caused by this operational error."

"Also, have him clean the inside of the reactor until this loading and unloading task is completed."

Buck paused for a moment, then reacted, grabbed the laborer, and roughly dragged him backward.

The laborers, who were kowtowing in terror, were being dragged away, but their eyes revealed gratitude for escaping death.

Cleaning the reactor is a tough job, but at least it saves your life.

Even after deducting three days' rations, it's still better than losing your head.

The red light on the servo skull flashed a few times, indicating that the execution target had been lost, and it returned to its original position.

Marquez witnessed this scene and said indifferently, "Keeping these inefficient biological components is a waste of resources."

Luo Wei dusted off his gloves and calmly replied, "If we execute him now, his blood will contaminate the ground, it will take time to clean up, and moving the body will block the passageway."

"Making him live to do hard labor and squeezing out his last remaining value is the responsible attitude towards the imperial assets."

Marquez remained silent for a moment.

On his half-human, half-machine face, a stiff expression resembling a smile appeared.

"A very rational calculation."

"Consultant Luo Wei, your way of thinking is getting closer and closer to divine logic."

Two hours later.

Loading and unloading operations have commenced in full swing.

This is a grand process of absorption and release belonging to the industrial age.

The D-4 platform is just the tip of the iceberg.

Hundreds of take-off and landing points throughout the northern grain depot are operating busily.

More than four million tons of ordinary wheat, transported from various agricultural war zones, are continuously flowing into the bottomless belly of the "Terra Nexus" via countless anti-gravity conveyor belts.

The golden wheat fields flowed like a waterfall, raising clouds of dust under the spotlights.

In stark contrast is Lowe's 12,000-ton black "Grey Mule-1".

They were housed in a special hazardous materials isolation compartment and loaded by a dedicated heavy-duty crane.

Because of the high density, the steel cables make a twisting sound when each container is lifted.

Marquez returned to the spaceship midway through the journey, leaving Rowe to wait in the command tower of platform D-4.

In his eyes, the laborers below, busy like ants, seemed to have disappeared.

All he could see were the numbers constantly changing on the control screen.

He was doing mental arithmetic.

Calculate the loading speed of each ton of cargo, accurate to the second.

"The rotation speed of the No. 3 boom is 0.4 seconds slower."

Luo Wei frowned.

He directly entered a series of commands on the console, remotely taking over the control system of the bulky crane at the northern grain depot.

He modified the opening threshold of the hydraulic valve and optimized the torque algorithm.

The next moment, the movement of the number three crane in the distance became noticeably smoother, and the overall efficiency instantly increased by 3%.

After doing all this, Luo Wei breathed a slight sigh of relief, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temples.

Watching this massive outflow of supplies, an indescribable feeling welled up inside me.

The vast majority of people on this agricultural planet have never eaten real bread in their entire lives.

They ate corpse starch and green soup, and drank recycled water.

Yet they sent the best grains produced on this land to the other side of the stars without reservation.

Four million tons.

This is just a quarterly figure.

But behind this lies the blood, sweat, and lives of 1.2 million serfs and laborers.

However, Luo Wei quickly suppressed this sentiment.

Because it seems meaningless.

Survival is the only truth.

If we don't pay this four million tons of tithe, the Imperial fleet's orbital bombardment will turn this place into a sea of ​​fire.

But then Loewe realized that this was precisely the difference between him and people like Márquez.

During the loading break, Luo Wei began to review what had just happened.

He had been so busy dealing with Márquez that he had overlooked the butcher's unusual behavior.

After a moment of contemplation, Luo Wei walked down from the command tower and came to the temporary medical point in the corner.

A medical servo is using a laser welding torch to treat Bill's fractured exoskeleton knee joint.

Amidst the flying sparks, the reckless warlord, biting a wooden stick, was covered in sweat but remained silent.

"How are you feeling?" Rowe asked in a low voice.

Upon seeing it was Rowe, Bill spat out the stick, forcing an awkward smile onto his pale, rugged face: "Thanks, Brother Rowe."

Luo Wei didn't reply, but just looked at him quietly.

The scrutinizing gaze caused the smile on Bill's face to gradually freeze and eventually disappear.

"You're not stupid, Bill."

Luo Wei spoke.

"You've been working in the northern granary for so many years, and you've received at least three different tax officials."

"You should know better than anyone what happens when you brandish weapons in front of Ministry of the Interior officials and try to provoke the arbitrators with your gangster rules."

Luo Wei stepped forward, his gaze cold as he asked, "In that situation just now, if I had spoken even half a second later, your head would have exploded like a watermelon by now. Tell me, why did you choose to die?"

Bill paused, his eyes darting around, and muttered, "I just can't swallow this. This is my territory—"

"Don't give me that nonsense," Rowe interrupted him. "You're a greedy warlord, not a mindless berserker. You're more afraid of death than anyone else. Unless someone gives you an irresistible reason to gamble your life on this."

Bill fell silent.

He waved away the welding worker, then glanced around warily to make sure no one was eavesdropping before smiling wryly.

"Damn it, I knew I couldn't hide it from you. The Governor said the same thing."

really.

Luo Wei's heart sank, but he asked calmly, "What did she ask you to do?"

Bill hesitated for a moment before replying, "The governor sent me a secret telegram last night, instructing me to test the Tin Man's limits when he lands, even if it costs me my life."

"She said she received a preliminary requisition list from Márquez." "Besides food and fuel, it also included a requisition of human resources."

At this point, Bill looked up and glanced at Rowe.

"Your name is on the list."

Upon hearing this, Luo Wei's expression changed slightly.

"However, the governor told me that something was wrong with the list."

Bill lowered his voice, as if he were talking about some dirty secret.

"The list isn't an official document sent through the regular interstellar communication channel; it's a gray list without the Ministry of the Interior's approval. You know what that means, right?"

Of course, Lo Wei knew.

Without the Ministry of the Interior's official seal, it's equivalent to not having the Ministry's official stamp, and is therefore considered an unofficial document.

Such "grey lists" are commonplace in the imperial bureaucracy.

These are the tax officials' private ledgers.

They often smuggled their own agenda into the sacred tithe, demanding bribes and forcibly recruiting talented individuals with special skills to become their personal advisors and servants.

Bill grinned, a hint of sarcasm in his eyes: "These tax collectors, they all chant the empire's tax laws, claiming they're sacred and inviolable, but they're all masters of falsifying accounts."

"If your name is really on the Ministry of the Interior's list, even the Governor-General can't protect you. But if it's for Marquez's own selfish reasons—heh heh, then we can talk."

"So, she needs to confirm that?" Lowe took over the conversation, his tone icy.

Bill nodded.

"Yes, the governor ordered me to provoke him. In the stupidest, most direct way."

"If Márquez kills me without a word, you're probably in big trouble this time; you'll definitely be taken away as legal property."

"But if he lets me go like this, just because of one sentence from you, he'll be a fool who doesn't know what's good for him."

"That means he's trying to please you."

"It means he's guilty; he's afraid you really don't want to go with him."

"This means that taking you away was purely a personal deal for him."

After hearing all this, Luo Wei felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

This is the truth.

Alicia used Bill's life to conduct a cruel double test.

This revealed Márquez's true intentions: summoning Loewy was a matter of personal desire, not official business.

This also pushed Lo Wei to the brink of disaster.

Now Loewy knew that Márquez had a strong "personal interest" in him, and that without the governor's protection, he would have no way to refuse the tax collector's "invitation."

"You've got some nerve," Rowe said coldly, looking at Bill. "Aren't you afraid I can't save you?"

"I was so scared! I almost peed my pants!"

Bill laughed, the sound aggravating his wounds and causing him to grimace again. "But the governor told me that Lowe is an absolutely rational and intelligent man. He won't let me die at this time, because if I die, his goods won't be able to be transported, and his tithe mission will fail."

"So I took a gamble. It seems the Governor-General has a keen eye for people."

Luo Wei fell silent.

This is hardly a land expropriation site.

This is clearly a chessboard.

Márquez wanted to make him his private property and take him away with him by smuggling him into the accounts.

Alicia wanted to keep him and turn him into a weapon against her family and the Executive Yuan.

Bill was merely a pawn used to find the way in this game.

"Thank you for your honesty, Bill. Take good care of yourself and I won't let my friend down."

"Thank me for what?"

Bill spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, looked at the ruined mechanical leg, and said sourly, "This little injury is nothing, we can just replace it with a sturdier model."

"What really hurts me is that you, kid—are actually worth the Governor going to such lengths, even going so far as to throw this old dog out as bait, just to protect you."

He shook his head, his single eye filled with envy.

"Damn it, I've risked my life for the Valentius family in the northern granary for so many years, and in the governor's heart, I'm not as important as a newcomer like you."

"It's true what they say, comparisons are the thief of joy."

After venting his frustrations, Bill seemed to remember something, and put on a serious yet somewhat amused expression.

"Alright, stop worrying about my feelings. I'm used to this kind of dangerous work, otherwise I wouldn't be alive now."

"Since you consider me a friend, I'll give you one last message for free."

Luo Wei listened attentively.

"The Governor specifically instructed that even if she discovers Márquez's true intentions and confirms that the list is a 'grey list' with hidden agendas, she will still fully respect your personal wishes."

Bill, mimicking Alicia's haughty and aloof tone, repeated, "If Rowe truly desires a broader platform, if he wants to follow Márquez, the Governor's Office will not stand in his way and will issue a release order. It is his deserved freedom."

Upon hearing this, Luo Wei paused slightly.

That's Alicia's brilliance.

She used the most dangerous means to protect him, but at the last moment, she gave him a key to open the cage.

This kind of respectful retreat is often more effective in winning people's hearts than a forceful attempt to retain them.

An indescribable warmth welled up in Luo Wei's heart.

This is something far more precious than mere words of comfort or shelter.

He turned and left without looking back, his tone even more resolute than before: "Please thank the Governor for me. I will make the right choice."

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