I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 140 Cleaning Process
On the labyrinthine streets of Upper Nest District, a legion of players, the Legion of the Dead, strode forward. Their footsteps were heavy and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the deathly luxury surrounding them. Their destination was a magnificent manor not far ahead.

The building's gate was less a gate and more a miniature city wall. Cast from a mixture of refined gold and PVC steel, it was adorned with intricate family crests and reliefs symbolizing wealth. In the midday sun, the gilded ornaments gleamed blindingly, silently proclaiming the owner's power and status. The gate remained tightly shut, sturdy and secure, clearly not intended to be opened to these uninvited guests.

Of course, the players showed no intention of knocking on the door.

The heavy weapons operator firmly secured the automatic cannon's mount to the ground. A sickening creak followed, and the next second, a deafening roar shattered the tranquility of the upper area. A high-explosive warhead slammed into the ornate gate.

The first impact shook the gate violently, and the gilded ornaments instantly peeled off. Then came the second, the third… The shells pounded the sturdy alloy, twisting, deforming, and cracking as if it had been gnawed by a giant beast. Finally, with a deafening roar, the entire gate was blasted into pieces, countless metal fragments mixed with stone chips whistling into the manor.

Before the smoke and dust had even cleared, the players launched their assault without hesitation. Armed with laser guns and automatic weapons, they surged into the breach like a tidal wave, locking onto every life marked with a white outline within their field of vision.

"Contact! 12 o'clock position, balcony!"

"Right-wing corridor, three white borders!"

"Free fire!"

A dense barrage of fire instantly enveloped the courtyard and entrance hall. Those with white outlines were primarily the private guards of the upper-class nobles. After all, those who dared to maintain their sharp minds even after the deafening roar of the cannonballs blasting open the gates, and who even dared to harbor murderous intent towards the imperial soldiers who had stormed in, thus being marked as enemies in the system's friend-or-foe identification system, were clearly no ordinary people. They might be well-trained, but against this group of fearless "suicide bombers," their resistance appeared pale and powerless.

Most of the people in the manor were completely stunned by the situation. Fear gripped their hearts, leaving them paralyzed on the ground, unable to do anything but scream. Those nobles who usually prided themselves on their superior bloodlines performed far worse than the poor scavengers in this life-or-death moment.

The players' unrestrained firepower naturally affected those without the white outline on their clothes. Grenades exploded in the crowd, and laser beams precisely pierced through the panicked bodies blocking the path of the fire. But clearly, none of the players felt any remorse.

Putting aside the fact that from their perspective, this is just an extremely realistic game, accidentally injuring or even killing a few NPCs is not a big deal at all.

Furthermore, if they had truly believed that "this is a real world, and killing requires caution," and had conducted a time-consuming and laborious investigation and screening first... then these "accidentally killed" individuals would probably not have died so easily.

As the saying goes, even a seventh-rank official is no match for a prime minister. Those who live and work in this manor, even the lowest servants, possess noble status; how could their hands be clean? In this purge triggered by betrayal, there are no innocent victims.

Ten minutes later, the sporadic gunfire within the manor completely subsided. The suicide bombers had successfully taken control of the situation—or rather, most of those in the manor who dared to resist and were capable of resisting had been annihilated by bullets and explosives. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, ozone, and blood; the luxurious carpets were littered with corpses, and broken artworks and spent shell casings were scattered everywhere.

The surviving servants and noble families were driven to the center of the courtyard, where they knelt in a row, trembling and with their hands behind their heads.

“You,” the squad leader casually pointed his gun barrel at an elderly man dressed as a butler in the crowd, “who is the highest authority in this manor?” Upon hearing this, everyone kneeling on the ground, including the old butler, instinctively shifted their gaze to a mutilated corpse not far away, almost unrecognizable as human. That was their former master, the lord of the manor.

“Uh, okay,” the squad leader scratched his helmet, realizing he had asked the wrong question, so he added a condition, “I mean, among the people who are still alive.”

This time, all eyes were once again focused on the same person. It was a tall man, dressed in close-fitting armor, whose back remained ramrod straight even while kneeling. His face was sharply defined, giving him the appearance of a tough, indomitable man. He was the captain of the guards at this manor.

However, the guard captain was clearly not as tough as his appearance suggested. After becoming the center of attention, he first stiffened, then immediately put on a fawning smile, practically crawling on his hands and feet to the player's class leader's feet, looking up and saying, "I don't know... I don't know what you want me to do, sir?"

“Take us to this nobleman’s collection. Preferably something with a long history or some kind of story,” the squad leader said calmly, tapping his forehead lightly with the muzzle of his gun. “If you satisfy me, I can give you all a quick death.”

"Yes, yes! My lord, please come with me, I know everything!" The captain of the guard replied repeatedly, as if granted a pardon. He knew very well that being executed on the spot by these Star Guard soldiers was already a merciful end.

Otherwise, if he were to be sent alive to other places and taken in by institutions like the State Church, the Tribunal, or the Ministry of Justice, that would truly be a fate worse than death. Therefore, although his heart was filled with bitterness and despair, he did not show any intention of resisting.

Meanwhile, similar intelligence gathering was underway in various corners of the Upper Nest District. Soon, reports on the purged noble families were compiled and sent to the governor's mansion, which was being temporarily requisitioned by the Ghost.

Freddy placed a thick stack of printed papers on the mahogany desk in front of Ghostface with a dull thud.

Ghost Face reached out and touched the thickness of the stack of papers; it was about three centimeters thick. He raised an eyebrow: "That's it? It seems there aren't many nobles in this nest."

“This is a catalog,” Freddy corrected expressionlessly, “and it only lists one family name. If you were to convert it to a specific population, this catalog would probably represent 700,000 people.”

“Uh…” Ghost Face withdrew his hand. “Alright, take it away now. I’m too lazy to look at this stuff.”

Freddy retrieved the data and continued his report: "In addition, the executive members of the Military Council generally reported that most of the nobles' collections were quite rubbish. They were either ceremonial items that were all show and no substance, food and alcohol that were only good for eating and drinking, and paintings and statues that were difficult to move and had no practical use."

"So, you didn't find any decent loot?" Ghost Face leaned back in his chair, his tone full of disappointment. "I thought these guys would at least have some taste in collecting..."

“Then let’s also clean up the gangs in Zhongchao. These gangs fight all the time, so they should have some good stuff,” Ghost Face said, tapping the table with his fingers. “The charge is that they colluded with these Shangchao nobles who betrayed the Emperor. Anyway, they are basically just white gloves kept by the nobles… The evidence is irrefutable, and they can’t deny it.”

(End of this chapter)