Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 114 Luck

Father Alpha hesitated for a moment.

Faced with the pharmacist's plea for help, he subconsciously turned his head to look at Luo Wei.

Working with Lo Wei for a long time, he developed an almost instinctive dependence on him.

When faced with unpredictable risks and variables, he was accustomed to seeking Loewy's advice.

Lo Wei's logic was his final firewall.

If Lovi disagrees, he will refuse Galan's request.

Even if the other party respectfully addresses you as their mentor.

Even refusing an Astartes could result in immediate execution.

Loewe stood in the shadows behind Márquez, his expression unchanged.

However, he made a "cutting" gesture with his hand hidden in his wide sleeve, and then nodded.

Only after receiving affirmation did the priest's tense shoulder hydraulic rod relax.

He walked forward shakily.

With a precise mechanical click, the servo robotic arm on the back clicked and accurately connected to the data interface of the operating table.

Just as the massive torrent of data, flowing along the nerve cords, surged into the core of logic.

Father Alpha, covered in oil stains, displayed pure focus and fervor.

This is the unique quality of Martian scholars.

In Rowe's eyes, Father Alpha was "glowing" at that moment.

It wasn't just the holographic screen; the cold light reflected on his metal mask was an aura emanating from within.

When the priest's fingers touched the pulse of advanced technology.

When logic circuits are connected to the neural network of demigods.

His biologically instinctive fear of Astartes was instantly formatted.

His confidence in grasping the truth made his hunched figure appear taller.

For Mechanicus, Astartes are the divine creation of Omnesia.

Repair them, like a devout believer mending the broken wings of an angel.

In the priest's implanted psychic eyes, divine binary code that only he could understand was flashing wildly.

He exuded a sacred yet aloof academic aura.

Luo Wei couldn't help but admire in his heart:

This is what the Mechanicus truly looks like.

Precise, sacred, and radiant.

"Switch the data stream to me!" Father Alpha reverted to the stern tone of a mentor addressing his apprentice. "Omnissiah, this step is an insult to the Machine Soul!"

"Are your ship's priests performing surgery with hydraulic shears from a shipbreaking yard? The bridging error of the nerve bundle exceeds 0.03 micrometers!"

The priest began to rebuke.

Start the operation.

The servo arm became a blur.

The giant named Garan, the ruthless Astartes, stood quietly to the side.

He listened attentively to the exile's reprimand like a humble student, nodding occasionally and making notes on the data board.

Lo Wei stood in the corner, greedily watching everything unfold.

He caught a glimpse of the recruit lying on the operating table, his chest cavity cut open, revealing superhuman enhanced organs;

I witnessed a terrifyingly perfect biological structure, born for war.

Besides worship, a balance sheet instinctively came to mind for Rowe.

These are not just soldiers; they are the Empire's most expensive fixed assets!

The success rate of gene seed screening and implantation, and the nineteen enhancement surgeries;

The maintenance costs of power armor, plus hundreds of years of combat experience—

The total cost of the new recruits undergoing gene seed implantation and organ fusion is far more expensive than all the equipment in the entire eastern granary, plus the lives of 120,000 laborers.

This is an astronomical budget, a killing machine built with countless resources!

He now understood that the heavily armed "Terra Nexus" was not just there to collect that pitiful amount of wheat.

It is a mobile supply depot, tasked with transporting troops to the warbands and maintaining the sacred mission of the Empire's sharpest sword.

Luo Wei looked at the apothecary Galan again.

This giant represents the true power of the empire, and also the ultimate violence of order.

Before this demigod, Lovi felt an unprecedented sense of insignificance.

All the clever tricks, so-called schemes, accounting tricks, and fraud he played on the Abundance II were nothing but child's play in the face of absolute power.

However, at the same time, he also felt an unprecedented excitement, and his heart was pounding violently in his chest.

The empire can still be saved.

As long as these expensive "angels" are still around.

As long as this kind of violence, capable of crushing everything, remains in human hands.

So no matter how bad the debt is, there will be a day when it will be forcibly liquidated.

The surgery was about to begin, and Loewe and Marquez were "invited" out by the servants.

Mortals should not look directly at miracles.

That's the rule.

The two waited in the isolation corridor outside the medical ward.

The heavy explosion-proof door closed, cutting off the light inside.

Just as Rowe was lost in thought, Márquez said seriously, "You're lucky, Rowe."

The subtle electronic synthesized sound entered Rowe's ears through a directional speaker, and only the two of them could hear it.

"According to the warband's secrecy regulations, any ordinary mortal who witnesses this scene, even just seeing the apothecary's face after removing his helmet, will need to undergo memory erasure afterward, or have their optic nerves surgically removed."

Marquez's red mechanical eyes turned slightly and locked onto Lovi.

"But I previously assured Lord Garan of your loyalty and your potential."

So, your eyes have been saved.

Márquez's tone was gentle, yet it carried a chilling air of control over life and death.

These words resonated in Luo Wei's mind like a thunderclap.

My clothes were instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He then realized with a start that he had been dancing on the edge of a cliff.

For a mortal to witness a living Astartes monk is already a one in a billion "divine grace".

Witnessing a sacred and secretive genetic modification surgery and glimpsing the mysteries of a demigod's birth is not just a stroke of luck, but a taboo that could lead to destruction, even for a fleeting glimpse.

Lowe was fortunate enough to witness all of this, but because he was so immersed in the awe of truth and power, he forgot the boundaries that mortals should abide by.

It wasn't until Márquez's emotionless reminder that he was brought back to the cold reality.

When mortals try to peek at divine miracles, the price is often destruction.

Without Márquez's guarantee, he would probably be a brain-dead idiot, a useless person with empty eye sockets, by now.

The lingering fear of having narrowly escaped death instilled in him a genuine sense of awe for the half-human, half-machine creature before him.

"Thank you, sir." Rowe wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"This is an investment, but also a warning. You must remember the suffocating feeling that this power can bring. In this world, weakness is the original sin, and strength is the only truth."

The tax official paused, his tone becoming meaningful: "If you don't want to spend your whole life as an ant rolling in the mud, at the mercy of others, then you'd better start climbing."

"Until your value is so high that even Astartes is willing to bow down and gaze upon you."

For the next hour or so, the two waited respectfully without saying a word.

The silence wasn't broken until several servants passed by, punctuating the calm, at which point Márquez casually asked, "Do you know about Father Alpha's past?"

This is yet another question that could cost you your life.

Rowe remained expressionless, feigning confusion as he shook his head: "He's just a technical priest in charge of repairing farm machinery; he's eccentric, but his skills are excellent."

"Hmph." Marquez let out a cold, ambiguous snort, seemingly seeing through Lo Wei's lie. "From now on, if anyone asks you this, you must always answer like this if you want to live."

"Don't think I can't tell. When Lord Garan called you 'mentor' just now, you did seem a little excited, but you were too calm. I've met many important people, but even I was surprised just now."

Then, Márquez cautioned, "Once we disembark from the spaceship, we cannot show him any respect beyond what is appropriate. This is to protect ourselves, and also to protect the priest, understand?"

"You've never been to Holy Terra, nor have you seen the outside world, so you can't imagine it."

"If this were in Terra, Lord Garan's simple gesture of respect to Father Alpha would have caused serious political trouble if seen by those dogmatists."

Luo Wei timely showed fear and lowered his head slightly.

"Of course, you don't need to be afraid."

"The empire has its own logic, which is somewhat bloated and inefficient. As long as you follow that logic, you can survive longer."

"Thank you for your guidance, tax officer."

Luo Wei responded respectfully, but inwardly he was thinking:

The Logic of Empire —

It's just a contest of who has the bigger fist.

Who has the strongest backing?

Whose accounts are better managed?

The surgery lasted a full four hours.

When the heavy explosion-proof door opened again with a depressurization sound, Father Alpha walked out, almost completely exhausted.

The servo arms behind him hung limply, lifeless.

Due to prolonged high-load and delicate operation, the joints are emitting a burnt smell from overheating.

A few wisps of smoke rose gently into the air.

The red robes, symbolizing the identity of the Mechanicus, were almost covered in blood and oil stains, clinging tightly to his hunched back.

Luo Wei secretly glanced inside.

The new recruit on the operating table, whose frantic rejection reaction was forcibly suppressed, seemed to have his vital signs return to stability.

Pharmacist Galan checked the data three times, his resolute face shifting from solemn to undisguised astonishment.

He was well aware of the rudimentary equipment Alpha was currently using:

The low-end servo arms used for repairing harvesters not only have poor precision, but also have severely aged servo motors, resulting in fatal signal delays.

Using this noisy, "junk" hardware to perform Astartes-level neural reconnection surgery is like trying to carve a pattern on a grain of rice with a rusty shovel.

However, he did it perfectly.

"Thank you, mentor."

The giant turned around and bowed deeply to the humble exile, who was covered in grease and not even as tall as his waist.

"With this worn-out, sluggish, low-level body, you forcefully performed precise microsurgery. Relying solely on pure experience, you anticipated the errors of the old parts and perfectly offset them before the robotic arm even began to tremble."

Galan said in awe, "Even in the forging halls of Mars, I have never seen many people who can do such a miraculous skill."

"Your skill has not rusted; on the contrary, it is even more terrifying than it was a hundred years ago."

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