Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming.

"Join us... A loving father's embrace is so warm..."

"Go away!"

Andy roared and swung his chainsaw horizontally.

The high-speed rotating saw teeth cut into the rotting flesh without any resistance.

Blood and flesh flew everywhere, and severed limbs were scattered all over the place.

Andy was like a bulldozer, carving a bloody path through the horde of corpses.

Sisyphus followed behind, his plasma pistol long since out of power. He could only use the useless gun as a brick, smashing it wildly at his former henchmen who tried to approach him.

The two ran wildly through the mutated atrium and rushed toward the airtight gate leading to the underwater dock.

Just then.

A person suddenly ran out from around the corner ahead.

The man was wearing a fairly clean suit. Although his face had some dirt, he did not have any pustules or tentacles.

He is the HR director of Dr. Birdbeak and one of Sisyphus's most trusted confidants.

"Boss! Boss!!"

The director saw Sisyphus and rushed over crying.

"Help me! Take me away!"

"I wasn't infected either! I've been hiding in the locker room the whole time!"

Sisyphus stopped in his tracks.

He had been fighting alone in this godforsaken place for so long, and when he suddenly saw a normal, living person, who was also his old subordinate, his empathy, which put aside his survival instinct, suddenly took over.

"Quick! Come here right now!"

Sisyphus reached out his hand, wanting to pull him.

"We have a boat! We're leaving!"

The director's face lit up with ecstasy, and he opened his arms to pounce on him.

"boom!"

Suddenly, a muffled gunshot rang out.

A wisp of smoke rose from the automatic gun in Andy's hand.

The director's head exploded instantly, and red and white substances splattered all over Sisyphus's face.

The headless corpse of the director lurched forward two more steps due to inertia before collapsing with a thud at Sisyphus's feet.

Sisyphus froze.

He remained in the outstretched position, staring at the corpse on the ground, his mind blank.

Two seconds later, he suddenly turned around and shouted at Andy:

"What are you doing? He's not mutated! He's a normal person!"

"He's beyond saving."

Andy's voice was terrifyingly cold.

“Look at the back of his neck.”

Sisyphus lowered his head and looked at the back of the corpse's neck.

There, a purplish-blue patch the size of a copper coin was spreading outwards at a visible speed, and a tuft of extremely fine white down had already grown on it.

Nurgle's blessing is not simply a virus, but a kind of spiritual pollution.

If you stay in this environment filled with subspace energy for too long, even if you are not bitten or injured, breathing will cause you to become corrupted.

Once that kind of plaque appears, the person's soul already belongs to Nurgle.

Taking him on the boat to escape was tantamount to carrying a time bomb.

In less than half an hour, he will become a new source of pollution, turning the entire submarine into a rotting coffin.

Rather than turning him into a monster who can neither live nor die, it's better to give him a quick death.

"Walk."

Andy didn't explain much, but gave Sisyphus a shove.

Sisyphus shuddered, stared at the corpse, gritted his teeth, wiped the blood from his face, and turned to run again.

Since the person is already dead, dwelling on it will only drag you down with them.

The two finally reached the underwater dock.

The air here is a little better, and the rotten sweet smell has faded considerably.

Andy turned around and slammed his fist hard on the control panel of the half-meter-thick alloy explosion-proof door.

"Bang—!!!"

The heavy gate slammed down with a loud bang, completely sealing off the passage behind it.

A few seconds later, a series of loud banging sounds and the scratching of fingernails on metal came from outside the door, sending chills down one's spine.

Andy threw the safe off his shoulder onto the ground, causing the ground to shake.

He looked around.

It appears that this underwater dock is also Dr. Birdbeak's shipyard.

Several submarines were moored in the huge dry dock.

Some are not yet finished, only the skeleton remains, while others are completed and undergoing final adjustments.

It must be said that while these doctors' medical skills are questionable, their shipbuilding skills are quite impressive.

Because in the extreme environment of an acid lake, if a ship isn't built properly, the consequences won't be as simple as just sinking...

Which one can sail?

Andy asked.

Sisyphus strode quickly to the innermost berth.

There, moored, was a medium-sized submarine with a perfectly streamlined, all-black body.

Its outer shell has no welding marks and is obviously molded in one piece, with a thick layer of special anti-corrosion coating on the surface.

"This ship, the Abyss Walker."

Sisyphus patted the hull.

"It's a prototype we got from the Helios Group. It uses the best pressure-resistant materials and its power system is a twin-turbo pump-jet propulsion system."

"It was originally intended for use in ocean smuggling, but now it's being sold to us cheaply."

Without exchanging any words, the two opened the hatch and climbed inside.

Sisyphus sat in the driver's seat and skillfully started the system.

Andy sat in the passenger seat, clutching the safe tightly to his chest.

"Inject water! Disengage!"

Sisyphus's fingers flew across the control panel.

With a hiss of a valve releasing pressure, the dry dock began to be filled with water.

A murky green acidic liquid surged in, lifting up the black steel behemoth.

"Hold on tight!"

Sisyphus pulled down the power lever.

"Om-!!"

The pump-jet propulsion unit at the stern of the submarine emitted a low roar.

The entire ship, like a torpedo released from a bow, suddenly burst out of the dock and plunged headlong into the bottomless underground river outside.

A few minutes later.

The submarine has left the danger zone and entered a stable cruising state.

All around was deathly darkness, with only green ripples dancing on the sonar screen.

Sisyphus slumped in his chair, panting heavily. The exhaustion from surviving the ordeal made his limbs weak.

Andy, on the other hand, seemed quite energetic.

He is studying the submarine's control system.

"This ship is nice."

Andy exclaimed in genuine admiration.

"It has a compact structure, extremely low noise, and the anti-corrosion coating is also very interesting."

"It seems that you doctors are better suited to shipbuilding than treating patients."

Sisyphus gave a wry smile and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweat.

"no way."

"In the bottom nest, for a doctor to survive, he first has to be a good drug dealer."

"To be a good drug dealer, you need a good means of transportation."

"Over the years, apart from the kickbacks given to Helios, most of the money we've earned has been wasted on these iron shells."

"Moreover, Helios simply refused to sell us this manufacturing technology, so we had to figure it out ourselves, copy it, and modify it ourselves."

Chapter 43 You want to build a starship?! (5k words! Please read on!)

The Abyss Walker submarine sailed smoothly through the dark underground river.

The low-frequency vibrations from the pump-jet propulsion system were transmitted through the hull, making the narrow cabin feel somewhat stuffy.

Sisyphus sat in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the control lever tightly, his knuckles white from the excessive force.

He was still feeling lingering fear.

If he had run a moment later, he would be a pile of fertilizer in Nurgle Garden by now.

Andy sat in the passenger seat, one hand on the heavy safe, the other fumbling with the submarine's instrument panel.

His fingertips traced the smooth buttons and the perfectly fitted edges of the display screen.

"It's really quite good."

Andy pointed to the pressure-resistant casing above his head.

“Look at this one-piece titanium alloy keel, and the dynamic balance of the pump-jet propulsion blades.”

“This is definitely not something you could knock out from the muddy bottom of the nest.”

"Even the prototype of Helios can maintain this level of watertightness after your modifications, which means the people working for you have real equipment."

Sisyphus's expression softened slightly when he heard Andy praise his ship.

As the biggest smuggling boss in the area, this ship is his last shred of dignity and his only remaining trump card.

"Of course."

Sisyphus sat up a little straighter and began to recount his family's wealth.

"When we were refitting the boat, I had the keel custom-made by 'Iron Hammer Beer' from Zhongchao."

"The propulsion blades were salvaged from scrapped aircraft engine blades at Shangchao's recycling station, and then re-polished at a shady factory called 'Gear Heart'."

"The cost of this modification alone was dozens of boxes of high-purity antibiotics."

Andy's electronic eye flashed.

Zhongchao.

To Andy, this word sounded more pleasant than gold bars or antibiotics.