Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

After sensing someone knocking on the door, the homeowner told his children and wife to retreat and hide in a secret room, while he himself carefully approached the door one by one, carrying an automatic rifle.

He asked cautiously.

The fact that a house in the Nostramore Nest City neighborhood has survived to this day suggests that the owner is no pushover.

But he still dared not ignore the knocking at the door late at night.

Someone once deliberately refused to answer the debt collectors from his family in an attempt to escape, and the result was that he died a gruesome death in the street, showing everyone the consequences of daring to disobey orders.

From then on, no one dared to ignore knocks on the door, whether they came from gangs or families.

The homeowner cautiously approached and peered through the peephole—this time, the uninvited guest hadn't shone a flashlight through the peephole, so he could see everything clearly.

Those were three petty thieves dragging large bags.

Please forgive his preconceived notions.

But judging from their demeanor and physique, none of these three men seemed to be seasoned family henchmen.

Judging from their somewhat immature appearance, these three were nothing more than low-class, idle street thugs.

They didn't seem like they were there to rob or collect protection money.

It was as if someone had a gun pointed at their heads and forced them to be community volunteers.

"Who are you? What do you want to do?"

"Who's coming? You go."

"Tsk, why should I do it? Why don't you go?"

"Hurry up, the boss is still waiting for us."

Amidst a few quiet shoving, a young man stepped forward and reached into the doorway, taking something out of the large bag he was carrying.

"Cough cough."

"Hello, I am Midnight Ghost."

This is arguably the least ghostly way to describe oneself in the world.

The homeowner thought to himself.

"This is a gift we give to every honest citizen. Please accept it."

"Please inform and pass on this message to the other citizens—the Midnight Ghost has returned to Nostramamo."

As the other person finished speaking, a strange metal object was slipped through the louvered door panel where the envelope was placed and tapped a few times on the floor.

Then, those who claimed to be midnight ghosts, but could never be midnight ghosts, fled like mischievous children.

Only the sound of heavy footsteps remained.

"What exactly is this."

Really? The Midnight Wanderer has sent us gold coins?

It can't be fake, right?

He tried to bite the thin piece of gold coin with his teeth.

It's very hard.

Not only were there no marks left by the teeth, but there was also no sign of the gold paint peeling off the gold coin.

Could this be a fine gold coin?

Try bending it harder.

It can't be bent. It really seems to be pure gold!

The homeowner looked at the small, thin, fine gold coin with great joy.

This gold coin is priceless; even when the Midnight King was still alive, the occurrence of a gold coin with a spark was extremely rare!

How did those thugs manage to get their hands on so many fine gold coins and distribute them to everyone?!

"Could it be that..."

"Has the Midnight Ghost really returned?"

“You guys did a great job.”

Casca: "Or rather, if you can't even do something this small, you might as well just die on the spot."

After distributing all the gold coins locally, Casca and Sevita, using memory fragments extracted from flesh and blood genes, launched a joint raid on several hive districts.

They were instructed to continue distributing money to the residents near their stronghold until the very end of the final day, at which point the three thugs were released.

Judging from their expressions, they seemed to be enjoying the day.

Seeing this, the three guys smiled sheepishly.

"How does it feel to give money to the residents?"

"Great. I could keep doing this as long as I wanted."

"Okay, that's right."

Casca continued, "But I must warn you—after today, you will only have nine days left to live."

"take care of it."

Then, he and Sevita jumped for joy, and after several leaps on the roof, they quickly disappeared from everyone's sight.

The man was gone, but Casca's words struck the minds of the three men like a heavy hammer.

I have nine days left to live.

The lively atmosphere vanished instantly like a receding tide, leaving only the fear of life counting down to its final moments.

Why are you emphasizing their inevitable death?

Sevita's question was tinged with confusion: "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"Oh? Which ones don't you understand?"

"Almost all of them. Including those three thugs who were given money."

Since they've committed evil deeds, it's better to just kill them.

The fact that Kasgar isn't killing them now, and instead letting them pay them (which is clearly less efficient than Kasgar and Sevita doing it themselves), is obviously slowing down their ability to create fear in the hive.

In the end, these people won't survive anyway, so why not just give them a quick death and then choose a more efficient method?

“This is a shameful waste of resources,” Sevita added. “We shouldn’t waste our time on these useless guys.”

"So what do you think we should do? Regardless of everything, keep killing any evildoers until this planet is once again at peace in fear."

"Ah."

Sevita nodded heavily.

"No, my friend. That's impossible. Fear may exist for a time, but it will never last."

"Fear will only ever exist on the planet’s most worthy objects of fear."

"I disagree."

Sevita retorted, "The fear of us Midnight Lords will forever be rooted in the hearts of our enemies. Nostramaur is nothing but a corrupt and stubborn rock, and this is not our fault!"

"Yes, fear is actually an effective tool."

Casca replied.

"But if the Night Lord can use fear against his enemies, how can you be so sure that the enemies won't use fear against other citizens of the Empire?"

“Sevita, temporary check-up—tell me why the Emperor opposes religion.”

At the question posed by the commander of the Emperor's Son, the Night Lord recruit Sevita stood at attention.

"To help humanity escape ignorance."

"Although the beginnings of religion may lead people to good, the result is always that people use religion to wage war, burn cities, and massacre people."

"Do you know why religious believers do this?"

"fear."

Casca answered for him.

"Fear of man, fear of the afterlife, fear of all that is unknown in the world."

"And will this religious fear ultimately be forever unable to escape the fate of being seized by those in power, allowing an individual to hold the power to define who is most worthy of fear?"

In the end, what is the difference between "believers must donate to him, or their souls will go to hell" and "if you dare to disobey the tax law, the midnight ghosts will publicly execute you"?

There is no difference.

The legend of midnight ghosts is essentially a religion that worships evil gods.

Out of fear of misfortune, they were forced to live according to the rules of the Midnight King.

Like the beginnings of all religions, Coates also wanted to [lead people toward good].

"But I believe in him! We all believe that Lord Night can remain steadfast; he will not become greedy, and he will always be our absolutely righteous Lord Night!"

"Maybe."

A philosopher on the ancient holy Terra thought the same thing.

He fancied himself as the sun, possessing boundless light and heat, giving without expecting anything in return. However, his fate ultimately mirrored that of Kurtz.

—They've gone mad.

"The Midnight King might be able to do it, but what about his men?"

Fear can become entrenched over time. The desire to avoid making mistakes leads to repetitive actions and wasted resources in people's activities.

"For example—there was once a planet at war. The defending forces fought bravely against the enemy but were still facing a shortage of ammunition and were requesting assistance from their superiors."

Casca's speaking speed suddenly increased.

But instead of reinforcements, they were met with ships that came to collect taxes—not only were they given no ammunition support, but they were also forced to hand over their already scarce ammunition as part of the planet's tax revenue.

"Perhaps it is indeed cruel to do this, but their sacrifice may be given to the parts that need it more on the battlefield."

"That doesn't mean anything."

After a moment of contemplation, Sevita retorted.

"Of course, that's because I didn't finish speaking."

As if anticipating the other side's reaction, Casca said, "The collected ammunition was not immediately deployed to other battlefields, but was piled up on a designated planet."

But for some reason, the ships that came to the planet to collect the munitions never appeared again, and the munitions could only continue to accumulate on the planet.

"But this time, because there was simply no room left in the warehouse, these munitions had to be destroyed on the spot."

Countless munitions were piled up like mountains, yet not a single one dared to be used on the battlefield—out of fear.

Out of fear of taking responsibility, no one dared to ask where the ammunition ultimately went, nor did anyone investigate how many human heroes and loyal subjects had been killed in this incident.

Everyone acted mechanically out of fear.

Avoiding mistakes out of fear will only lead to bigger mistakes in the end.

"That's absurd."

"How could such a thing possibly happen?"

Sevita was somewhat shocked by the 40K.

—It seems he didn't realize that this was just an ordinary day for 40K.

Seeing that Casca did not answer, he still did not believe the other party's statement: "This really is not a made-up story?"

Of course not.

Even if you were to sleep in a stagnant field for ten thousand years, you would probably see something similar when you woke up.

Casca doesn't need any examples.

The occurrence of such a tithe chaos in the 40K is as smooth and natural as Guilliman losing a one-on-one fight; it doesn't need to be "fabricated."

Even in his statements, Casca could be considered to be "embellishing" his image.

"Now, Sevita."