I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 139 Anyone taller than a wheel will be shot!
Ignoring his excited subordinates, Ghostface walked straight through the crowd, his tactical boots clicking crisply on the cold deck. Following orders from the War Council, he headed directly to the designated temporary meeting room. For this purge of Jersey Prime, the Council had assigned four Astral Army legions, three of which would be directly responsible for the operation: the 3rd Legion of Peditians, the 92nd Infantry Legion of Cadians, and the 72nd Infantry Legion of Krieg. The 4th Legion of Storm Loyalists would serve as an elite reserve force and would not directly participate in the initial purge.

The conference room door was a standard alloy door. Ghost Face didn't knock; he just pushed it open.

The room was simply furnished with only a metal table and a few chairs, and the air was thick with the mixed smell of machine oil and ozone. The other two Astral Legion Commanders had clearly arrived. One of them wasn't wearing a helmet, revealing a weathered face. Several grotesque scars crisscrossed his face, his eyes were resolute as iron, and his jawline looked as if it had been cleaved by an axe. He simply sat there, exuding an aura of a tough, unapproachable man—the kind who could remove a bullet from his wound with a heated dagger and then stitch it up with a stapler without batting an eye.

The other one... was the complete opposite. He was wrapped from head to toe in a heavy military overcoat and uniform, with a signature gas mask on his face, revealing only a pair of goggles whose emotions were obscured in the shadows. He sat silently, like a statue.

Ghostface understood immediately. The tough guy was undoubtedly a Cadian, and the one wearing a gas mask was naturally the commander from the world of death, Krieg.

“I am Emil White,” the tough man spoke first, his voice hoarse but powerful. He stood up and extended a calloused hand to Ghostface. “Commander of the 92nd Infantry Regiment of Cadian.”

“Kardian, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Your legends resound throughout the galaxy, and I’ve long wanted to see them for myself,” Ghostface greeted him warmly, shaking his hand tightly. “I am Ghostface, from the 3rd Legion of Peditian.”

After speaking, Ghost Face turned to the silent masked man: "This... must be the commander of Krieg's 72nd Infantry Regiment, right?"

“724357.” The other person’s voice came through the mask, muffled and brief, sparing with words.

“Very well, another masked weirdo.” White muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and said seriously, “Alright, now that everyone is here, do either of you have any objections to our joint purge operation?”

"Wait a minute," Ghost Face suddenly interrupted, pointing to the corner of the room, "Aren't you going to explain who these two people on the ground are?"

Following the direction of his finger, they saw two more people bound on the ground. One was a human; although he tried his best to remain calm, the fear in his eyes was unmistakable, and the luxurious silk he wore was now filthy. The other was a blue-skinned alien, a Tau human, who simply knelt there silently, his expression unusually calm.

“Oh, him,” White glanced disdainfully at the man in fine clothes, “the governor of this planet. When he saw the Imperial fleet arrive, he was terrified and arrested this Tau diplomat overnight, then came to us to beg for forgiveness.”

“Heh,” Ghost Face let out two cryptic laughs, “This idiot is truly an exceptionally stupid fool.”

“Yes,” White echoed, deeply agreeing.

Upon hearing their conversation, the governor's face instantly flushed with anger: "Even if I am truly guilty, you cannot insult someone of noble blood like this..."

Before he could finish speaking, a sharp gunshot rang out in the closed room.

Ghostface had already drawn his large-caliber, live-fire pistol, a wisp of smoke still rising from the muzzle. The governor, whom he had aimed at, had vanished from the neck up, turning into a cloud of red and white matter that sprayed onto the wall behind him. The headless corpse swayed, then collapsed heavily to the ground, its legs still twitching reflexively.

Ghostface slowly holstered his pistol, as if it were a trivial matter. He looked around and asked, "Where were we?"

"How do we clean this place?" White said calmly, his expression unchanged, as if the gunshot had just been a fart from Ghost Face.

“Oh, right,” Ghostface slapped his forehead, remembering, “this is indeed a difficult problem. The War Council didn’t give us any details, they just threw us a purge mission and that was it.”

"Actually, it's not that difficult. As long as we define the standards and scope ourselves, we can act independently," White said, his tone revealing the pragmatism of a veteran. "Looking at it this way, it's actually a good thing. At least we won't have those high and mighty old men giving us random orders."

“In that case, let’s designate the main cleaning area as the upper nest area,” Ghostface suggested. “After all, the workers in the middle nest work sixteen hours a day, those in the lower nest scavenge for food in the garbage dump every day, and those in the bottom nest are even worse off… To say that they have the leisure and resources to engage in any diplomatic or commercial activities with the aliens is utter nonsense.”

White thought for a moment and nodded: "You have a point. But in order to maintain necessary stability, it is still necessary to carry out a partial purge of the middle and lower nests. At the very least, ten thousand people should be executed in each nest area as a warning to others."

"Heh, that works too." The ghost agreed with this cold-blooded calculation. "As for the standard, let me think..."

Ghostface paced around the room a few times, his hands behind his back: "I really can't think of anything for the time being..." "How about we do it the usual way..." White was about to speak when a deep engine roar suddenly sounded from outside, growing louder as it approached.

Ghostface subconsciously looked up at the window, interrupting White: "What's that?"

White glanced at it too: "Taurus all-terrain assault vehicle, Storm Loyalist Army stuff, we common soldiers don't have such good stuff."

"Then we'll have a standard!" Ghost Face suddenly clapped his hands excitedly.

“Uh…” White was clearly not following his train of thought. “Could you explain in more detail?”

Ghost Face revealed a bright smile beneath his mask, pointed at the assault vehicle speeding past the window, and said, "Anyone taller than a Taurus wheel will be shot!"

The room fell into a deathly silence upon hearing this. Not only did White's expression change slightly, but even the Water Clan diplomat, who had been keeping his head down and remaining silent, looked up in surprise. As for 724357, he remained hidden behind his mask, his reaction unreadable.

"Isn't this standard... a bit too low?" White hesitantly advised. "Besides, there doesn't seem to be any necessary connection between height and collusion with aliens, does there?"

"Why not?" Ghostface immediately retorted, his voice suddenly rising, "A human being taller than the wheels of the Taurus Assault Vehicle clearly possesses normal thinking and logical abilities, capable of distinguishing right from wrong! Since they live here but haven't risen up to resist the influence of the aliens, that's a betrayal!"

He suddenly waved his hand and shouted sternly, "These opportunists who waver between the Emperor and the Alien, these two-faced cowards, must all be shot!"

Shouting out that famous line made Ghost Face feel much better. As for the other two…

“This kind of massacre…isn’t it a little disgraceful?” White frowned slightly. 724357 beside him remained silent.

"Then you'll just have to watch! Leave this little thing to us, the ones who are ready to die!" Ghost Face said smugly.

He turned and strode out of the conference room, stood in the corridor, took a deep breath, and shouted to the troops gathering outside: "Brothers!"

His built-in megaphone faithfully amplified his voice to everyone in the square. Players who were busy with their own things instinctively turned to look at him, and even soldiers from other legions cast curious glances at him.

"The entire Upper Nest District is full of sinners and disloyalists who have sided with the Xenomorphs!" Ghostface announced succinctly. "The standard is simple! Anyone taller than the Stormtroopers' golden bull wheels over there can be shot! Now, go and rummage through everything you can find! What you find depends entirely on your luck and diligence!"

After a brief silence, a deafening roar of cheers erupted from the player camp.

"Wow! This lousy game finally has a looting element!"

"Boss, you're awesome! I give that reason full marks!"

Long live Pedithia!

Meanwhile, the soldiers of the other Astral Legions, the veterans of Cadian and the elite of the Loyalists, continued with their own affairs. Krieg's soldiers remained masked, their expressions unreadable.

But clearly, in the minds of these allies, the image of this ruthless suicide squad is rapidly deteriorating, with them being seen as someone who can kill whomever they want, just like the Catalans.

(End of this chapter)