Shipping goods from the game to the World of Warhammer

Chapter 102 The Great Outbreak

Liriel wandered around outside for almost two hours before finally returning to the abandoned industrial platform. She looked much more disheveled than when she left, with several oil stains on her coat and a black scratch on her face, but her eyes revealed a smug look, clearly indicating that she had gained a lot.

She quickly climbed onto the platform, walked up to Rod, lowered her voice, and began to report rapidly.

"Boss, floors seven through nine are the main residential area and small workshops. Below that is a complete waste area and some shady black markets. I've drawn a simple map, marking the main passageways and a few places that look like law enforcement checkpoints."

She pulled out a set of greasy paper and pens from her pocket, which she had somehow gotten her hands on, and marked it with crooked lines and marks in cheap handwriting.

"The law enforcement teams in this area hardly patrol. They spend most of their time at their posts, only coming out when they receive orders from above or when there is a major disturbance. But they have an unusually keen sense of smell; nothing can escape their notice."

Rhodes nodded, after all, everyone infected with the cunning could become a potential informant.

"The elevator platform and main passage leading to the Middle Nest District are both on the east side of the ninth floor. They don't seem to be heavily guarded, but the guards are on standby at all times. It looks like the organization of the Planetary Defense Force, and their equipment is much better than those of the law enforcement officers in the Lower Nest."

Rhodes took the map, glanced at it, and memorized all the information on it. His face remained expressionless, seemingly unsurprised by the information Liriel had brought back.

"Well done."

He looked at the information on the map while contacting the infected under his command.

Deep within his consciousness, Rhode issued a command to the psionic network composed of countless new nodes.

Head towards the Central Nest area and clear away all obstacles.

As for accidental injury? Who even talks about accidental injury these days?

His ultimate destination for the mutated combatants was the various passages leading from the lower nest to the middle nest, guarded by the most elite law enforcement and planetary defense forces. In this impending chaos, the vast majority of the hybrid descendants infected by the gene thieves would instinctively rush out to protect their "homeland," becoming the first wave of targets to be eliminated.

Those ordinary people who haven't been infected by the gene-stealers and have miraculously escaped the swarm virus, upon seeing this hellish scene, will instinctively seek shelter if they're thinking straight. If they're blind enough to rush out and block the way, then Rhodes can only respect their fate of being short-sighted.

Meanwhile, in the luxurious penthouse on the top floor of the Upper Nest District of Craigern.

The first pureblood gene stealer to infiltrate the hive world, the patriarch of the gene stealer cult, was in a state of mixed rage and confusion.

Beneath its backward-extending skull, four eyes gleamed with a dangerous purple light. A dense, oppressive psionic aura permeated the room, making the air seem thick and viscous.

Before it, several hybrid sect deacons were prostrate on the ground, their bodies trembling slightly with fear. In their eyes, the dignified sect leader had a gloomy face and could explode at any moment.

A furious roar echoed through the room, making the ornaments on the crystal chandelier jingle.

"Dead? He just fell like that?!"

The pureblood patriarch's rage was almost tangible; he could not accept this outcome. A perfect plan, a traveling merchant who could spread the family's seeds throughout the entire sector, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, had all vanished because of a foolish "accident."

It meticulously selected its best offspring to carry out the infection, and everything was flawless, but the target chose to jump off a building at the last moment? This is illogical and completely inconsistent with the behavior of a human noble who values ​​his life.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash! I don't care what methods you use, go down to the nest right now and bring back their corpses! Even if they're smashed to pieces, piece them back together!"

It also had a backup plan; although the live infection plan had failed, the corpses still had value. The merchant ronin's flagship was still on track, and his men would surely send troops down to search for their master after discovering his disappearance.

At that time, by using these two corpses as bait, the search party can be easily lured into the trap, completing a new round of infection. Although the effect is not as good as directly infecting the traveling merchant himself, it is still better than getting nothing at all.

Just as it was about to issue more specific commands, a chaotic surge of psionic energy came from the direction of the lower nest, interrupting its thoughts.

That wasn't their family's psionic network, but a more primitive, more violent collective consciousness filled with a bloodlust and a desire to devour. It was like a pot of boiling oil being poured into calm water, instantly creating chaotic ripples in the psionic energy of the lower nest area.

This reminded the patriarch of the gene-stealer of the immense will he encountered at the time of his birth.

Immediately afterwards, a hybrid deacon responsible for monitoring the entire Nest City security system scrambled in. Its face still retained human features, but the outline of slightly protruding bones could be seen under its skin.

"Lower Nest—A massive riot has broken out in the Lower Nest area!"

The pureblood patriarch slowly turned his head, his four purple eyes fixed on the deacon.

"A riot? How could that be?"

Its bloodline has permeated every inch of this nested world, and the will of every offspring is under its control, like an extension of its own body. How could there possibly be a rebellion? Unless—

"What is it?"

It immediately diverted some of its attention to try and connect to the psionic network of the lower nest, hoping to find out what was happening there through the hybrid gene-stealers. But the moment its psionic tentacles touched the lower nest's network, a violent...

The hunger-filled mental noise rebounded back, and all it received were fragmented psychic screams filled with terror and pain, as well as feedback representing the permanent extinguishing of nodes on the psychic landscape.

Something is slaughtering its offspring and polluting its network!

"Send men down! Send down every conceivable force! I need to know what kind of creature dares to run wild on the family's territory!"

Lower Nest Area, seventh floor, near the wastewater recycling station.

The plumber who was the first to be assimilated by the infected insects was standing still, motionless. The cigarette he was holding had burned out, and the ash had fallen onto his work clothes, but he was completely unaware.

Suddenly, his body began to convulse violently.

Click—

A crisp cracking sound came from his back as two sharp, chitinous, bony appendages pierced his skin and clothing from below his shoulder blades, extending like two sharp scythes. His jaw protruded forward in an unnatural posture, his teeth becoming sharp and elongated. More tentacles emerged from his neck and arms, writhing unconsciously around his body.

His human pupils had completely disappeared, replaced by a murky, faintly glowing orange-yellow.

He is no longer a plumber, no longer a hybrid descendant of gene thieves; he is now merely a mutated combatant, the terminal of the Zerg hive's will.

He turned around, strode towards the passage leading to the eighth floor. Behind him, the walls covered in mycelium began to writhe like living things, and fleshy growths appeared on their surfaces.

The entire lower nesting area awoke simultaneously at that moment.

On the eighth floor, in a crowded residential corridor, the three workers who had been chatting earlier simultaneously underwent a mutated transformation. Bone spikes tore through their clothes, and their bodies were twisted into grotesque, half-human, half-insect shapes, because this modification was purely for killing.

Around them, the uninfected mixed-race descendants watched in horror as their neighbors and coworkers transformed into monsters in seconds. Their first instinct was to run, but it was too late.

One of the combatants, having just completed its mutation, lunged at the nearest hybrid offspring. Its bony appendages, extending from its back, swung down like scythes, instantly severing the opponent's head. No blood splattered; the wound was instantly carbonized by a highly acidic bodily fluid, leaving only a burnt stench.

On the other side, a law enforcement team member who had just been infected by the spores and still retained half of his self-awareness was looking at his hands with extreme terror.

His right hand rose uncontrollably, gripping an automatic pistol, the muzzle slowly pointing at his partner in front of him, an old friend who also belonged to the law enforcement team and had worked with him for more than ten years.

"No—no—"

A desperate moan escaped his throat, but his finger pulled the trigger.

boom! boom! boom!

The bullet struck his comrade precisely in the chest and head, and the man slowly fell to the ground with an expression of disbelief on his face.

He watched helplessly as he killed his best friend. His body then underwent its final transformation, his remaining consciousness completely consumed, his eyes becoming as empty and fanatical as the other combatants. But for someone infected by gene-stealers like him, there was no better end.

Chaos spread like a plague.

A squad of ten mixed-race law enforcement officers had just rushed out of their post. Their leader, a third-generation mixed-race man with noticeable bone spurs on his face, was roaring into the communicator: "Attention all units! Massive riot has broken out in Sector C! Repeat, riot! Authorization to open fire has been granted; lethal force is permitted!"

They had just rushed into a main passage when they were stunned by what they saw.

The passageway was crammed with screaming "people," their bodies twisted and deformed, covered in bone spurs and tentacles, frantically attacking any living creature that hadn't been modified. An old man who used to sell illegal synthetic protein paste on a street corner now had his chest completely ripped open, from which several segmented limbs emerged, crawling like spiders on the walls, dragging a woman trying to escape into the dark alley.

"Fire! Fire!"

The captain roared, raised his shotgun, and blasted away a mutated combatant that pounced on him.

But more monsters surged in from all directions. One of them suddenly screamed, and its body began to swell uncontrollably, with an eerie green light emanating from beneath its skin.

"Run!"

Before the words were even finished, the team member's body exploded like an overinflated balloon, instantly covering an area of ​​seven or eight meters with dark green corrosive liquid and spores. The two law enforcement officers closest to him were splashed with the liquid, their armor and skin immediately sizzling and corroding as they screamed and rolled on the ground.

The mutated combatants poured out from every corner, their target clear: all living things not controlled by the hive's will.

They pounce on the panicked hybrid offspring of gene-stealers, infecting them with their newly grown claws and bone spurs, or tearing them to pieces.

The weapons in their hands, whether crude industrial cutters or standard automatic pistols, became tools for slaughtering their former compatriots.

On the ninth floor, inside a state church whose doctrines had been distorted by gene thieves.

In the dim candlelight, dozens of mixed-race descendants knelt on the ground, devoutly praying to the statue on the altar. The statue was supposed to be of an emperor, but it had been replaced by a bizarre-looking gene stealer. However, under the influence of psychic energy and cognitive filters, these believers still saw the sacred and majestic human lord in their hearts.

Although it has four arms.

A little girl of seven or eight years old knelt in the front row. Her face still had a touch of childishness, but her eyes were filled with fanatical piety. Her ancestors were among the first believers to be infected, and the faith in the "Four-Armed Emperor" was deeply imprinted in her blood.

Suddenly, her body trembled violently.

The little girl froze, the fervor in her eyes quickly fading, replaced by a cold emptiness. She slowly stood up, turned around, and faced her compatriots who were still praying devoutly behind her.

Her arm began to deform, something was growing rapidly under her skin, her finger joints made a cracking sound, and her nails lengthened and hardened within seconds, turning into five sharp claws.

A middle-aged man closest to her noticed something was wrong, looked up, and stared at her with a puzzled expression.

"Child, what's wrong?"

"wipe out."

The little girl didn't answer. She lunged forward, her small body bursting with power and speed completely disproportionate to her size, her right hand forming a claw as she plunged it viciously into the man's throat.

The man's confusion turned to utter terror. He tried to cry for help, but the pierced trachea rendered him speechless. He watched helplessly as the little girl, who had been praying just a moment before, tore open his neck with her inhuman claws.

Panic erupted inside the church. Believers screamed and scattered, but the church doors were already blocked by several mutated combat beings that had rushed in from outside. They silently raised their weapons and pulled the triggers on the crowd.

A burly hybrid attempted to resist, drawing a ceremonial dagger and charging at a mutated combatant with a roar. However, the opponent simply extended a twisted arm, easily grabbing his wrist, and then cleanly slicing his chest with a bone blade in its other hand.

The sacred church was turned into a slaughterhouse, prayers were replaced by screams and gunshots, and the murals on the walls depicting the deeds of the "Four-Armed Emperor" were splattered with warm liquid and became unrecognizable.

Thousands upon thousands of mutated combat entities converged into an unstoppable torrent, surging through the intricate passages of the lower nest area. They had only one objective: the elevator platform and main passage leading to the middle nest area.

The false peace that has lasted for who knows how long is finally about to be exposed.

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