Plunder the Heavens from Warhammer

Chapter 37: New World Specialty Scum

[Dear navigator, you have arrived in the new world]

【Duration of stay: 30 days】

【Anchor this world? 】

"No no no Fuck!"

The boy uttered profanities.

The scorching heat waves were steaming, sweeping up the dry sand.

The rolling golden sand dunes are like the rolling waves in the sea.

The scorching heat made Alvin feel a burning pain from his throat to his lungs every time he breathed.

"Good news, this time the spawn point is finally not an alley." In just half a minute, Alvin was sweating profusely. He felt like he was being roasted. He raised his hand to make a canopy in front of his forehead and squinted at the scorching sun. "But the bad news is, this time I was thrown into the desert."

He looked down at his wrist and saw the information displayed by the Navigator System.

[Navigator: Alvin]

[Race: Human]

[Faction: Human Empire]

[Occupation: Scavenger]

[Anchor World: None]

[Remaining energy: 0 units]

[Remaining source power: 0 units]

This time, Alvin didn't have to worry.

Although thirty days is not too long, it should be enough.

Moreover, even if it is not enough, he still has spare 'energy'. The 'Deflection Defense Device' and 'Plasma Pistol' given to him by Father Aruman still store a lot of energy.

Of course, Alvin would never use it easily unless it was absolutely necessary. After all, it was a life-saving device!

"First of all, we have to leave this damn place."

Alvin wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was bad enough that he was thrown into the desert, but he had to be fully armed.

The carapace was covered with a bulletproof fiber jacket lined inside, plus a series of equipment and weapons, so he was now carrying at least 50 kilograms, which was equivalent to carrying an adult woman.

And, most importantly, due to his lack of experience, Alvin did not anticipate that he might encounter extreme conditions, so he did not prepare sufficient water at all.

In the desert at noon, the temperature can reach over 40 degrees, and you will become dehydrated in a few hours!
"I was careless. This will be a lesson for me."

Alvin felt a little bitter and swallowed his dry throat: "Next time I travel through time, I must..."

I felt that it was fortunate that Tucker had trained for three days in advance and had roughly learned how to survive in extreme environments.

I have seen it in various survival shows in my previous life. The daytime temperature in the desert is close to 40 degrees. Ordinary people without training will quickly suffer from heatstroke or even dehydration.

Alvin has been injected with Compound No. 2 and has lived in the lower nest for more than ten years. Not to mention other aspects, his adaptability alone is absolutely impeccable, and he is tens of thousands of years ahead of K humans!
"Luckily, Tucker taught me survival skills."

After observing the sand dunes, combined with the sun and vegetation, Alvin easily identified the approximate location.

At this moment, he sincerely thanked Tucker and decided that if he had the chance in the future, he would learn more survival skills from this veteran to avoid being thrown into Catachan in the future.

Alvin walked forward in the desert step by step under the scorching midday sun.

The sun was scorching, and the scorching sand became an excellent tool for conducting heat. The air even showed signs of distortion, which shows how hot this damn weather is.

The sun gradually moved away. After walking in the desert for two hours, Alvin, who once suspected that he had taken the wrong direction, finally saw a village.

The existence of a village means there are people living there, and the existence of people means there must be water!

"There is always a way out. If I can't find it again, I'll have to use my psychic power to fly out." Alvin was immediately delighted and swallowed his saliva, but his dry mouth couldn't secrete any water. He felt like his throat was about to smoke, and he quickened his pace and ran towards the village.

The village looked dilapidated, with houses made of mud and covered with cracks.

Several older men, wearing turbans, were surprised for half a second when they saw Alvin, who looked like he was about to die, but they quickly turned around and went back into the house. Not long after, an old man wearing a white turban and with a face full of wrinkles came out tremblingly holding a clay pot and said, "Child, come here quickly and have some water."

The language the other party spoke was obviously not English, but fortunately the 'Navigator System' could translate it automatically, so as to avoid the embarrassing situation of language barrier.

After the old man finished speaking, fearing that Alvin might not understand, he gestured with his hands to indicate that there was water in the clay pot and handed it to him.

"God bless you, thank you so much." Without saying a word, Alvin took the pottery jar, brought it to his mouth, and drank the sweet well water in big gulps.

The throat that was about to burn was moistened by the cool and sweet well water, and every pore on Alvin's body released a comfortable moan.

"Don't be anxious, kid. There's more if it's not enough. Don't drink too quickly." The old man patted Alvin's back gently, fearing that he would choke. His wrinkled, sun-tanned face was filled with a charitable smile.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, I would have died of thirst in this desert." Alvin drank heartily and thanked the old man sincerely.

"Don't thank me, kid. Although the desert is cruel, the people who live in it are not indifferent." The old man took the empty pottery jar with a smile on his face. "From your appearance, you must have come to explore the desert and accidentally got lost, right?"

From a certain perspective, Alvin's outfit really does look like a rich young man who is so impatient that he rushes out to conquer the desert.

"Uh, yes, old man." Alvin scratched his head awkwardly and could only continue speaking.

"You've come to the wrong place, child. This is a cursed place." The old man suddenly sighed, shook his head, and said, "Take a short rest and leave quickly. Go northwest. In about thirty miles, you will be able to leave this desert."

"A cursed place?"

Hearing the old man say this, Alvin became interested: "Can you tell me more about it, old man?"

Maybe I can find some clues from it, at least understand this world a little bit. Otherwise, I’m totally confused now and don’t know where to start.

"Hey, kid, I won't lie to you. There's a terrorist organization nearby."

The old man thought Alvin didn't believe him, so he advised earnestly: "If an outsider like you is discovered by them, you will be arrested directly, so I asked you to leave quickly."

Just as Alvin was about to ask what terrorist organization it was, he saw smoke and dust like waves outside the village. In the rolling yellow sand, several painted Hummers were speeding towards them!

"No, they're coming!"

The old man's face changed in panic, and he dragged Alvin into the house in fear: "Hurry, kid, hide quickly, otherwise if they find you, you will be dead."

Alvin was hidden in an adobe house. Several military Hummers broke into the village directly, and several strong men with their heads covered and guns jumped out from behind.

"Jamiel, it's time to hand over the food." The sturdy man in the lead, with a grim smile on his face, holding an AK47, shouted arrogantly: "Get out here, don't let me go in to search!"

"Ahmed, you've been here this month, and we really have no food!" Jamil pleaded humbly, "Look, there's no one left in the whole village. All that's left are the elderly. How can we get any food?"

"Stop talking nonsense. Do you want to take it yourself, or do you want us to search for it?"

Ahmed kicked the old man and pointed his AK47 at his forehead: "I asked you to contribute food for the great victory. Don't talk nonsense to me, or I will kill you!"

As Jamil said, there are only a dozen elderly people left in the village.

But they don't care how old you are. They put guns to their heads in a rough manner and yell at them to hand over the remaining food.

Whether they handed over the grain or not, there were only two options before them.

Either they starved to death, or they were shot.

Jamil was completely desperate, his lips trembling, and two lines of muddy tears flowed from his empty eyes. He pointed the gun at his forehead and roared at them: "Lord, please punish these sinners. Let them fall into hell!"

"Asshole, you dare to curse me?"

Ahmed was furious, and his index finger was about to pull the trigger to kill the damn old man.

There was no fear in Jamil's eyes, as if he already knew his fate. He stared at them, as if he wanted to memorize their faces and wait for them in hell!

Click!

Ahmed, who was about to pull the trigger, was stunned.

He suddenly realized that no matter how hard he tried, the trigger seemed to be welded and did not move at all!

Then, under the horrified gaze of a group of terrorists.

Ahmed's head swelled like an inflated balloon, until it exploded with a loud bang on his terrified and distorted face!

(End of this chapter)