Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 118 Handover

Marquez frowned and boarded the shuttle first to deal with the newly added trouble of "relic maintenance".

Rowe and Father Alpha arrived at a corner of the D-4 platform.

There, several inconspicuous metal boxes were piled up.

It was the pharmacist from Galan who allocated that batch of supplies.

Father Alpha was squatting in front of the box, quickly counting the supplies inside.

"Praise be to the Star Realm Governor for his generosity."

The priest's voice was filled with an irrepressible fervor.

"Three sets of high-precision ornithoscope lens assemblies, these are core spare parts that only the Mars Casting Hall possesses."

"And these too—By the Emperor, this is a biogel and gene stabilizer specifically for Astartes."

The priest held up a vial of blue medicine to his eyes, as if admiring a work of art.

"What use are these things to us? We don't have the conditions to perform the Astartes modification surgery," Rowe asked.

"Advisor, do you remember the recent appetite of 'The Wall of Gluttony'?"

Lo Wei nodded.

The Chimera 1 living tank has indeed become increasingly difficult to control lately.

Since it devoured Valken, Butcher Bill's lieutenant, a fourth-generation elite hybrid, its bio-armor has become increasingly thick and has recently begun to penetrate into the vehicle's interior.

The lead plates and ceramic steel, which were originally intended as a barrier, are being slowly corroded by the secreted acid.

If this continues, the cockpit will eventually be filled with living tissue.

At that point, it will no longer be a controlled vehicle, but a completely out-of-control monster.

"This is an imbalance in the rejection response."

Father Alpha explained.

"Terra's genetic technology is essentially about suppressing the disordered mutations of organisms. These Astartes-specific gene stabilizers have extremely strong biological inhibitory effects."

As he spoke, the priest gently tucked the medicine into his robe.

"I can mix these potions into the holy oil and apply them to the inner walls of the Gluttony Wall. They will inhibit the excessive proliferation of Tyranite biomass, like putting a bit on a wild beast."

"At the same time, those bird-shaped lenses can be installed on the tank's observation towers. Combined with their psionic insulation properties, we can detect warp fluctuations earlier, preventing them from being eroded by chaotic forces—"

Father Alpha gave a lengthy explanation, which also included specific technical parameters.

After listening, Luo Wei understood the purpose of this batch of supplies.

They are not only rewards, but also serve as an extra layer of insurance for the "wall of gluttony".

It can solve the most intractable risk of tank loss of control, allowing this war machine to remain "controllable" for some time to come.

"Fix it, Alfa," Rowe whispered. "Don't let it eat our driver."

Father Alpha nodded slightly, then picked up the box and hurriedly disappeared into the shadows leading to the underground workshop.

Watching that departing figure, Luo Wei couldn't help but feel a surge of respect.

From the initial dangerous "subspace crystal" to the current unpredictable "Gluttony Wall," these blasphemous ideas, which are tantamount to suicide in the eyes of ordinary people, have all been turned into reality by Alpha.

At first, Lowe thought this was just a routine procedure for the technical priests.

But the more he learned about Alfa's illustrious yet tragic past, the more he realized how fortunate he was.

If it were any other technical priest, faced with Rowe's concept, the response would not be assistance, but rather the cold, hard stake of the courtroom.

More importantly, even if a priest dared to cross the line, none of them possessed the extraordinary skills of Alpha.

Only this exile who dared to look directly into the abyss possessed the madness and talent to dance on the tightrope between "heresy" and "technology".

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Lo Wei glanced at his brass pocket watch and murmured, "The tax collection is about to end. I need to go to the governor's mansion before Marquez does to report back and let the governor know what has happened here."

Several hours later.

The Governor's Spire, the administrative hall.

The air here is dead.

It is filtered through layers of sophisticated machinery, removing all the vibrant impurities, leaving only the fragrance.

This is the unique flavor of the privileged class.

This is completely different from the dirty world outside, filled with acid rain and the smell of sulfur.

The atmosphere here is a kind of castrated purity, an arrogance that is cut off from the earth.

Alicia van Valentius, the ruler of the second bounty, sat enthroned on the rune throne.

She wore an elaborate governor's gown with golden tassels that draped over the edges of her power armor.

At this moment, just as Loewy had suggested, she was a flawless marble statue.

It was as pale as snow that never melts on a barren plain.

It is as hard as a glacier deep in the polar regions.

She transformed herself into a rock formed from pure will.

It rejected all temperatures.

It rejected the faint pulse of blood.

He coldly scrutinized the void ahead.

Because of its excessive nobility, it exudes an almost cruel sense of absoluteness.

Not far from her feet, on the steps, stood Marquez, the tax officer, senior clerk, and tithe commissioner of the Ministry of the Interior.

He stood respectfully, followed by several servants recording data.

After the Imperial Ministry of the Interior officials collect the tithe, they must go through a complicated handover process with the planetary governor.

This is not only a procedural requirement, but also a core characteristic of the empire's bloated bureaucratic system.

It is the lifeline for the division of rights and responsibilities between the two parties.

Rowe stood beside him, holding a thick stack of tithe handover documents.

Marquez looked up and said, "Your Excellency, regarding the additional 20,000 manpower to be conscripted this quarter, the list has been confirmed, and the transport ship will depart in three hours."

He extended his mechanical claw, gesturing for Alicia to sign the document.

This is a routine procedure.

Once the governor signs, the fate of these 20,000 laborers will be sealed.

However, Alicia did not sign as readily as usual.

A cold glint flashed in her purple eyes as she said, "I have some doubts about some of the terms of this handover document, tax officer."

"According to the Valentius family's asset management regulations, the integrity of any outflowing assets must be guaranteed."

"Advisor, please explain our concerns to His Excellency the tax official."

Luo Wei stepped forward and opened the folder in his hand.

"Your Excellency, according to our calculation model..."

Luo Wei pointed to the rows of data.

"The atmosphere of Plenty II contains high concentrations of sulfides. The lungs of the local residents have adapted to this environment."

"Data shows that without pretreatment, the non-combat attrition rate of these 20,000 laborers would be as high as 30% within the first three days of arriving at their destination."

Rowe closed the folder, his face serious. "This means that a third of the assets you took will be rendered useless before they even see the enemy. This is a tremendous waste of the Empire's resources."

Marquez's mechanical eyes blinked, and he explained, "The Ministry of the Interior has standard depreciation rate targets. This is within the allowable range."

"But according to the Valentius family's standards, this is not allowed." Alicia's attitude was firm. "What I hand over to the Empire must be high-quality soldiers, not corpses sent to fill the graveyard."

"If, due to the abrupt change in transportation conditions, this batch of living assets suffers massive damage before reaching the front lines, it will not only be a loss for the Empire, but will also severely damage the reputation of the Valentius family."

After Alicia finished speaking, Rowe handed her another detailed execution list, his tone leaving no room for doubt: "Based on this, we have initiated the Supplementary Asset Preservation Agreement."

"The Governor's Office has already allocated 60,000 high-specification breathing filters and 20,000 alveolar enhancement injections free of charge. The supplies are in the buffer zone of the D-4 platform and can be delivered at any time."

"However, the actual vaccination process needs to be completed by your medical operatives during the boarding security check."

"At the same time, the life support system of the 'Terra Nexus' must have its parameters reset by your technical priest to perform a slow transition of atmospheric concentration over 48 hours."

Marquez quickly scanned the agreement and said irritably, "This is troublesome and will delay takeoff."

Lowe smiled and said, "But this guarantees that the results you bring back will be 'excellent,' not just 'acceptable.' This is His Excellency the Governor's last bit of mercy towards his people."

"I believe that a tax collector who is dutiful to the Emperor would not refuse such a reasonable request."

Alicia sat upright on the runic throne, maintaining her cold, marble-sculpted demeanor, without uttering a single word.

Luo Wei stood at the bottom of the steps, holding a data board that listed a series of complicated but compliant medical regulations.

One up, one down; one still, one moving.

This tacit cooperation, within the core of Márquez's logic, constructs an insurmountable vicious cycle.

Rejecting the proposal would mean that, as a tax official, he knowingly ignored the risk of asset devaluation, a stain on his record and a sign of unprofessionalism.

Accepting the proposal meant he would need to adjust the transport ship's life support parameters, incurring additional time costs.

Marquez raised his brass-cast head, his electronic prosthetic eye focusing on the powerful female governor on the high platform.

His logic processor, operating at high speed, came to a conclusion:

This is not just a debate about the survival rate of 20,000 biological units.

This is a declaration of power.

The rulers of Abundance II are drawing red lines in this way:

She will pay tithes.

She will fulfill her obligations.

But all of this must go through her hands.

It must be stamped with the seal of the Valentius family.

If Márquez wants to take these things with him, he must accept this modification of the "local rules".

The silence lasted for several seconds.