Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 608 Interlude A Dark Eldar Who Is Very Un-Dark Eldar
"...Except for those who need to summon the AXE team, any staff who have direct contact with other intelligent creatures, livestock, animals and related derivatives that have not yet completed quarantine and are in isolation should wear protective clothing in the isolated building and keep all internal circulation until disinfection is completed. All Astartes power armors from Type II to Type XII can be regarded as one of the protective clothing that meets the requirements after turning on the internal circulation while ensuring their power and sealing..."

"…Additional Supplementary Regulation 1: If an Astartes on the 'Pure White List' does not wear a helmet in the above-mentioned work situations, exposing an easily recognizable face and obviously does not hinder or negatively affect the work, then such behavior shall not be considered a violation of the work regulations."

————Excerpt from "The 2.0th Edition V of the Carlosini Dynasty Version of the Wandering Port Customs Code of Practice"

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"If I could conquer the Empire with my cooking skills and traditional dishes, I wouldn't be hiding in the countryside like I am now. I would have led everyone to surround the Solar Star Region like a prairie fire. The mess hall of the Iron... Destiny Steel has an absolutely overwhelming advantage when facing the Empire's cooking. I am very confident about this. What? You ask why I am so confident? The Empire started from Albion! If it's not British food, then what is it?! I'm not saying that British food is not even as good as the free soup in our officers' mess hall!"

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The first day's dinner ended just before midnight in Wandering Port.

During this time, the captive lady reluctantly realized through a quick knife and fork battle on the table that the grass root in the suspicious soup pot might not be overcooked, and it had a name that was difficult to pronounce in the Eldar words but described in their language: white radish.

——Why does she know some of the monkeys' language? Did she have to deal with these inferior races in her previous job? If so, she would adjust her mentality and choices. She would be a more immediate creature, adjusting herself to adapt to the current battle.

According to this wild monkey soldier, swollen grass roots like white radish must be stewed until they melt in the mouth so that they can absorb enough soup. And those green plants that she thought were leaves were not leaves, but the rootless young plants of some herb, which were designed to add enough specific nutrients to dinner as required by the book.

Finally, although the soup contained cooked pieces of meat with bones, for some reason it had neither the floating foam that would affect the appetite nor the fishy smell covered by spices, yet it was not as boring as ordinary food. It had a beautiful milky white color, and the taste was light, fresh, and unprecedentedly complex. Even with such a picky taste bud, she had to admit that this overly gorgeously dressed monkey was very good at making soup.

The smell of witchcraft herbs, branding and burning that she smelled from the very beginning was actually the charred surface of the steak and the original spices used during frying and grilling - it seemed that the other party believed that there was no contradiction between witchcraft herbs and seasonings, but she still cautiously decided to only take one bite - until she carefully bit off the brown charred layer formed by the Maillard reaction.

The warm gravy rich in myoglobin, which was preserved in the soft meat layer inside the crispy shell under the perfect cooking temperature, burst in her mouth like a grand explosion. She suddenly realized how empty and hungry her stomach was.

The food was primitive enough, but the ancient wisdom and the craftsmanship that they contained were wonderful and profound enough. These gorgeous and rich emotions filled her cold and shriveled stomach. She blinked hard while eating, although she herself didn't even know what this emotion could be called. The monkey soldier sitting opposite her put a bowl of steaming soup under her face.

"Want a change of flavor? Perhaps you could try something made with your own tears."

Cursing viciously, she threw the last fruit fork in her hand towards the other person's eyes and tasted the bitter and fresh salty taste in the broth.

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"It seems that you really are healing as fast as he said."

While clearing the table, this warrior, who was considered quite pleasing to the eye among their kind, muttered, and then she sat down with a sense of fulfillment she had never felt before. She was annoyed by his rude attitude of treating her as some kind of equal or even inferior race that lacked the ability to take care of herself, but at the same time she seemed a little lazy and confused because of the satisfied desires and the warmth they brought flowing through her limbs.

This sleepiness became even more obvious after the handsome male genetically modified human returned from the kitchen and lit the promethium stove, which imitated the crackling sound of primitive firewood with no combustion efficiency.

She curled up on a piece of furniture she had never seen before, which was made of a steel frame, soft cloth and other soft fillings. The loose blue and white clothes covered most of her body curves, just like the fur of a long-haired cat. Others could only see that she folded up her strong and vigorous long legs on the sofa and curled up into a ball miraculously soft body.

Hearing this, she subconsciously hummed a vague nasal sound from her nose as a question, just like she used to ask her subordinates... Who...? Once again, it was like the burning spires like white phosphorus, the blood-spattered sand, the roads piled with corpses, and the faint humming of the clowns... At the end of her memory, what was waiting for her was still Victor's unfathomable eyes. A severe headache came like lightning, and she covered her head. It was not until the other party stood in front of her that she realized that she didn't know what she had just said.

"Very interesting. My servo skull has already recorded the content of the alien language you just spoke and sent it out."

"Who? I just... I just wanted to know who mentioned the speed of my healing. That lousy doctor would have murdered me if he had stitched me just a little deeper. Even the Haemonculi of Comoros would have been as good as him in terms of his murderous medical skills."

She rolled her eyes, trying to find some more sarcastic words. The hateful monkey opposite seemed to see what she was thinking. "Servoskull has left here, and you cannot leave my custody. In addition, if you have any objections to the person who sewed you up and applied medicine, it was our pharmacist who took time out of his busy schedule to treat you. The last time he came, he said that you would wake up soon, so I was cooking according to the recipe in the kitchen. And you stepped on the recipe."

He held up a book in his hand, which looked familiar, and only then did she notice that this manuscript was indeed the one she stepped on when she entered the kitchen.

But how could this be her fault?
"I've never seen anyone cook by throwing a recipe on the ground," she said confidently.

"You have seen it now. And a gladiator or a witch like you is blind to such a big thing, so..."

He walked proudly in front of her, and she suddenly realized how tall he was and yet how he looked so much more coordinated than the other monkeys - even in his power armor, he was taller and more proportional than any genetically modified human of this type she had ever seen in her unremembered memories.

"...The next issue is the allocation of beds in the bedroom, obviously."

The dark elf girl suddenly wanted to kick this handsome face away from its owner's cervical vertebrae.

When this abominable monkey warrior proposed that the only proper bed in the bedroom must be returned because she stepped on his recipe, the dark Eldar girl felt inexplicably but greatly offended, while this narcissistic guy continued to talk to himself. "Maybe you were once a princess, a baroness or a female archon, dear, but I have let you sleep in my bed for several nights here, and sleeping on the sofa has forced me to spend more time correcting my joints and sword tips that are beginning to deform by 0.00001 degrees! Now, I want to take back my bed, and you, sleep on the sofa, which is much more suitable for your body shape."

"Then why don't you sleep on the floor? Do you genetically modified slaves need beds and sleep? Then I will be happy to deprive them of them and enjoy your pain and anger!"

When she finished speaking, her cat-like body had already rushed in front of Lucius. The natural talent of murder revealed in her every move was perfect. In her hand, she had grasped the dinner knife she had just used. This small silver blunt metal object could not even break the skin of a Space Marine in the hands of an ordinary person, but in her hand it easily scratched the polished enamel coating of Lucius' power armor, and the head even broke a little bit of the soft plastic lining at his joints under the strange power contained in the muscles of her slender limbs.

Instead of responding with the foolish cries of rotting corpses, the dull battle roars, or the rants she had expected, the former Emperor's Child gave a hiss of interest, a smile of delight crossing his features.

"This level meets the conditions for a more severe counterattack..."

Then he dodged her attempt to paralyze one of his arms with a flexibility and speed that was almost impossible for a big man like him. Then he drew the knife under his sword belt and began to fight her almost face to face in this not-so-large living room.

Moreover, it was obvious that what interested him at the moment was her talent in martial arts, and he had no intention of showing any mercy to her. His attacks were experienced and ruthless, with a killer's talent that also surprised her, showing how vicious she would be if she were in another situation, a champion who achieved her art by destroying beautiful things.

The meticulous and polite care before was more like some kind of fine network of rules to restrain the surging passion in his body. Now she could taste them from the tiny particles that escaped into the air. In every mouthful of soup and every dish, there was the passion of the maker, and these were like a few crumbs of passion filed off from a whole piece of spice matrix, and they came from the hateful monkey in front of her itself.

They fought from the edge of the sofa to the sideboard, the petals of the wild lilies were cut straight and scattered on the ground, emitting an even richer dark fragrance, both of their eyes were shining like burning, and the subtle attention to each other's every muscle pulsation or servo motor charging occupied every bit of their mind in this close dance between killing and confrontation, so that none of them noticed the blurred and swirling terrifying colors and wet sharp teeth, claws or sharp tails around their own figures reflected in the mirror.

Finally, due to her injuries, a more obvious wound ruptured, causing her to lose her balance briefly.

When they stopped dancing, the Astartes held a lily branch in his hand as a weapon, and drew a blood-thirsty line of blood beneath the surveillance collar on the neck of the Dark Eldar woman.

"Well, Lady Bitch, I will keep my sleep schedule, which will keep me in perfect condition until Master Angron returns."

She cursed him with the most venomous words, but the monkey told her before he went into the bedroom that he was not offended by the words, because "Hey, you know what? I have a brother. We haven't seen each other for a hundred years, or maybe ten thousand years. When we met him again, they told me that he used to carve the most obscene poems on the surface of his power armor - which inspired me to carve all the odes I wrote for Lord Angron on my shoulder armor."

"spit!"

She slammed herself into the mat angrily. The headache made her dizzy again and she fell into a dream without knowing when.

...Or maybe he was meant to be yours.

Xigoqi's clown voice is melodious, and her voice floats in the ears of the dark elves.

The feeling of uneasiness that had been quelled resurfaced, and beneath the dark water it grew hungry fangs, suggesting to her the possibility of gaining truly remarkable power in the universe.

"What do you mean?" Her skin was filled with tiny shivers because of a possible future.

She wanted to ask more questions, but the favorite of the laughing god had disappeared with a dissipating laugh and a gorgeous reverberation.

She woke up suddenly. The smell of the air had changed.

"Who was here just now?"

A vigilant voice sounded behind her along with footsteps, but the voice coming from the breathing grid loudspeaker was not what she wanted to hear at the moment.

Yeah.

"Nothing, I just want to get some fresh air here." Her long hair was blown by the air conditioner and fluttered over her pointy ears. "No reason, monkey. -Where is he?"

"Who? You alien." It seemed that the other party had no intention of tolerating her verbal attack.

"My guardian." She raised her head proudly, revealing her slender white neck, and looked up at the Astartes who was much taller than her without any fear.

"You mean Lucius?" the monkey wearing a helmet asked. "He will be back soon. You'd better not do anything before then."

Good, she thought, now she gets to know the handsome monkey's name first.

(End of this chapter)