40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 795 16. Legacy
“I’m more used to working with professionals.”

I heard Cyrano van der Leff say this rather haughtily.

Ah, good, you're provoking me again.
To be honest, I didn't want to get involved in this matter because the 'non-professional' she mentioned was actually another judge.

His name was Alexios Halstrade - as soon as you heard the name, you could tell immediately that he was a man of noble birth, just like my mistress.

However, compared to the long-lost Dellef family, Halstrade still has a place in the solar system to this day.
Of course, the situation was not much better. This was a family of great reputation, but they had no real power, and their wealth was reduced to two factories, which could barely cover the annual maintenance and repair costs of their ancestral home.

However, about twelve centuries ago, Halstrand was not what it is today, with only a surname and honor left.

At that time, they had two naval commanders, a senior official in the Ministry of Military Affairs, and a bishop of the state church, and their power veins were very clear. However, everything will gradually decline after reaching the peak, and the Halstrade family is no exception.

The commander-in-chief died in battle, high-ranking officials were assassinated by their crazy political enemies because of their policies that favored the military, and the bishop walked side by side with the Death Guard and died under the banner of his faith.
Technically, they all had a good ending, but that was not a good thing for those who remained. A dozen generations later, power and wealth disappeared together, and now, the only one left in the Halstrade family is this one.

He is the last of the last and a senior inquisitor, and I have great respect for him - but my lady obviously has a different opinion.

I am sorry that she dislikes this good gentleman.

"What are you talking about? Isn't Sable professional enough?" Inquisitor Alexios asked. "If you think so, please terminate the contract with him immediately, okay? I will pay him ten times the salary and invite him to work for me. I happen to have a few cases on hand that are very suitable for him to handle."

I appreciate your appreciation, but
I turned around to glance at my lady inconspicuously, and the veins on her forehead bulged, but she started laughing.

"I'm going to rip your intestines out."

I heard Serrano say this, in a soft voice - she had never spoken to me in this tone before, mostly mocking, yelling and urging, but I would rather she said it like this than hear this kind of voice.

"I lost most of my internal organs thirty years ago," Alexios said nonchalantly. "However, if you are really an unknown fanatic of human organs and you really want to collect my intestines, I suggest you take a walk in the warp. If you are lucky enough, you may see a bird hanging from a tree with its intestines."

"Renthal!" my mistress turned to me and roared loudly. "Let's go!"

She turned and left before she finished her words, and I had to bow to Alexio to apologize. He said nothing, but pointed at the hostess who had already walked away, motioning me to follow her quickly - I don't know why, but I always felt that he looked at me with some sympathy.

Could it be an illusion? I don't think so. My intuition has hardly been wrong in the past few years.

I caught up with Serrano in a few steps. She was still angry and didn't want to talk at all. However, considering what we were going to do next
"perhaps--"

I tried to speak, but just as I uttered the syllable, the hostess stopped me with a firm gesture. She stopped at a porthole and began to stare at me, her eyes looking as if she would pull out a gun and put a hole in my head in the next second.

But then again, she didn't draw her gun, so I could go on.

"—you should try to reconcile with Inquisitor Alexios," I said.

Well, she pulled her gun.

I turned and walked away, leaving her behind me, raging in frustration. Not only did I not do what she asked, I even quickened my pace.

This woman's temper is getting worse and worse. Although I know she won't really kill me, what if she shoots me and damages my new uniform?
We are going to see the Chief Judge next.
It took me nineteen minutes to get to the main bridge. As usual, old man Caplin was still standing in front of the command table with his pipe in his mouth, puffing away from time to time.

Judging from the smell, his tobacco must have been upgraded. He used to smoke Jazz III, which was officially sold at 4,000 Imperial coins per bag, but now he smokes Tobacco Gold, which is three times the price. It is a special product of Chogoris.
I know the Military Affairs Department must have given him a lot of rewards after the last incident. He deserves it. If it weren't for him, we would all be dead.

"Hello, Renthal." The old man nodded at me with a smile. "How come you have time to come to the bridge today? I thought you would accompany your mistress."

"I'm here to kick your old, ugly ass," I said, laughing. "Well, not really - I'm here to get out of the spotlight."

He raised his eyebrows, and the eyes under his white hair were suddenly full of sympathy.

"Your mistress is fighting with our Lord Alexios again? God-Emperor is above." He shook his head, bit the cigarette butt, and made a sky eagle with his hands in front of his chest, muttering to himself. "May he bless you, poor sable."

"I don't think he would really bless me for such a small matter." I shrugged. "Unless he has as much free time as you and me now."

Caplin looked at me and laughed, then he pulled his second pipe from his pocket and handed it to me.

As usual, we began to stand like a pair of stone statues, smoking our pipes and joking with each other.
Did I mention that I actually like this humorous old man?

He is different from most of the sailors I have met. This old guy is extremely loyal, very reliable, will never abandon his friends to take risks, and has a great spirit of finding joy in adversity.

Being with this kind of person makes me feel a little less tortured, even though we are now in the warp.

"Nukeria is a great place, you know, Renthal?" Old Caplin said in casual conversation. "I went there several times when I was young, and apart from the drought and lack of water, it is my dream place to retire."

"You can say that about any world that has order and a natural environment."

"Hey, I'm serious this time!" Caplin raised his voice to declare his seriousness.

I wasn't really interested in this topic, but I really wanted to continue chatting with him, so I followed his lead and asked - unfortunately, just as the old man was chattering about the wonders of Nuceria's beautiful natural scenery and high-tech life, my head began to ache.

Each time you enter or leave the warp, the experience is different. Sometimes it feels peaceful, and sometimes, like in my case, you have to grit your teeth to resist the pain.
Caplin soon stopped talking, not because he noticed my patience, but because he felt it too.

In fact, everyone on the boat is probably experiencing the same feeling right now, it’s just that the more sensitive people are entering it first.

Fortunately, it came and went quickly, and we were fine after just a few seconds. We both sighed in silence, and for a moment we lost interest in talking. We just stood there smoking.
A few minutes later, the medal pinned to my clothes began to vibrate. This meant that the short time of exercise was over and the mistress was calling.

I took off my pipe, cleaned it and handed it back to Caplin. The old man stuffed it back with an increasingly sympathetic look in his eyes.

"What are you going to do next?" he asked.

"What later?" I felt a little confused.

"You're not going to - oh, never mind, just pretend I didn't ask." "What are you talking about?" I asked confused, but he just waved his hand, signaling me to leave.

Okay, then I'll go.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to the hostess's room. She was sitting behind her desk, staring at me expressionlessly, with a gun on her right hand.

It was a revolver, with bullets clearly visible in the cylinder and the hammer cocked.

"Tell me, Rentar," she said slowly after a few seconds. "What is the need for a servant who disobeys his master's orders?"

I started to take off my uniform.

"what are you doing?!"

".To prevent you from damaging my clothes?"

The hostess, in great rage, grabbed her pistol and began shooting at the target she had hung from the ceiling.

Amid the deafening gunfire, I shook my head - really, why are all of them so weird today? Alexio is, Caplin is, and she is too.

Could it be that I am experiencing a cognitive modification event caused by a Chaos Intrusion?

As I thought about this, I squeezed the Skyhawk hanging on my chest. It didn't get warm or vibrate, which meant I was just imagining things.
Well, it might be my fault, after all, I haven't slept well in almost two weeks. Ever since I received the assembly signal from the Grand Inquisitor, I have been very excited.

The thought of seeing him again kept me awake all night, and I even began to rehearse over and over in front of the mirror the greetings I might use.

I knew these words were probably of no use. After all, it was definitely not my turn to speak on behalf of my hostess in that kind of situation, but I couldn't control myself.

However, a few minutes later, I suddenly calmed down when I realized that we had actually jumped out of Mandeville Point near Nuceria and only needed another few hours to land.

——This may have something to do with a woman who jumped over her desk like a madman, ran over to me and threw a pile of documents, or it may not, who knows?
Damn, there is.

"You just remembered to show me the file now?"

I asked her, and she turned around coldly and made a warning gesture to me.

To be honest, I might be the only person in the galaxy who can understand what she means, but I have to be a little disobedient today.

"Soul-stealing needle?" I deliberately read the words on the document out loud. "It's actually a third-class evil object?"

"Are you a child who has just learned to read?" The hostess turned around and shouted. "Read your information carefully!"

"If you had handed these documents to me two weeks ago, I would have memorized them word for word. But now, I'm afraid we'll land in just a few hours, and you're letting me see them now. Isn't it a little late?"

Cyrano van der Leff took a deep breath and suddenly became calm. My sense of danger began to frantically warn me, and I subconsciously sat up straight.

"How many hours?" she asked without thinking.

"The slowest is seven hours, the fastest is three hours." I said fluently.

"Very good, I'll give you twenty minutes." She said slowly. "After twenty minutes, if you don't memorize every word on this, I will..."

She suddenly got stuck, and I was confused and could only wait patiently.

However, she did not continue speaking until a full minute later, but her expression became increasingly ugly, as if she was very angry.

"Uh," I managed a single syllable before continuing to probe. "So, how are you going to punish me?"

She still didn't say anything, but just threw out another gesture. I didn't understand what she meant, so I lowered my head to look at the document, but the more I looked, the more serious she became.

I had forgotten all the fun and relaxation I had experienced before - the documents in my hands all came from the Grand Inquisitor. They were his investigation reports in the Nuceria galaxy, full of his unique efficient and cold thinking mode.

The more I read, the more I felt like the babbling child that the hostess described, being led forward by the adult.

He led me to unravel the mystery, from the small to the big, and dissected every doubtful point clearly and distinctly.
Twenty minutes later, I put down the document in my hand. I think my expression must have been extremely ugly, otherwise my lady would not have come over to look at me.

"What's wrong?" she asked for the first time.

"Does the Grand Inquisitor think that thing might be related to the Butcher's Nails?" I asked.

"Yes."

She leaned down on me, and her bones hurt like daggers, but despite this, her movements were very gentle.

"The instrument Alexio brought is to confirm whether this conjecture is true."

"What if it's true?" I continued to ask questions.

She smiled and said softly, "Then a lot of people will die."

"A lot" is an abstract word, and I translated it in my mind into an extremely large scope that includes the entire Nuceria.

After a few seconds of silence, I asked the third question without giving up: "Is this really possible?"

"Who knows?" Cyrano van der Leff said softly, staring at me. "I think nothing is impossible in the galaxy."

(End of this chapter)