Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 121 Desperate Situation

"Disguise?" Luo Wei was slightly surprised.

"Yes, consultant. This toxin molecule has a very unique structure."

"In the early stages, they will be encased in an inert protein shell to deceive the Empire's biochemical detectors."

"Only after entering a living organism and undergoing 12 hours of metabolic enzymatic breakdown will this outer shell peel off, revealing the deadly neurotoxin inside."

After hearing Father Alpha's words, Rowe felt a chill run down his spine and straight to the back of his head.

"This is not the result of natural evolution; natural plants do not possess this kind of intelligence. Only meticulously designed and targeted genetic weapons can achieve a delayed effect."

"Alpha, are you saying that 'Grey Mule 1' possesses intelligence?"

The priest denied this, saying, "The 'Grey Mule 1' that merely possesses Tyrannosaurus biomass lacks intelligence, but they do have a weak connection to the spiritual network of the 'Children of the Stars' cult."

"What I mean is, at the level of the subspace, the 'Star Children' can manipulate them."

It is common knowledge that Tyranid hybrids can exchange information through psionic networks.

Lowe was aware that there was a weak exchange of psionic information between the "Grey Mule 1" mutant wheat containing Tyran biomass.

The reason why young master Valentine's honor guard suffered such heavy casualties was because of this.

He simply hadn't anticipated that the independent plant-based spiritual network formed by "Grey Mule No. 1" would be interfered with by cunning outsiders.

Just a moment later, Luo Wei realized: "The Star Children Mutual Aid Association—it must have been done by that clan leader."

"Yes, that's the only explanation," Father Alpha agreed.

"Only the patriarch at the top of the Genestealer cult possesses this level of powerful psionic control, capable of remotely inducing gene expression in plants."

Luo Wei's expression darkened.

He had always believed that by purging the "Children of the Stars" cult in the eastern granary and using their biomass for farming, he had almost completely suppressed the aliens.

But now it seems that the cunning clan chief, who had been lurking in the shadows and had never shown his face, had given him a surprise attack.

"Thanks to the governor's special care and protection, it knew it couldn't kill me, and all the assassins it sent failed."

Luo Wei muttered to himself, his mind racing with analysis.

"So it changed its strategy. It turned these 'Grey Mule-1s' into Trojan horses!"

Thinking of this, Luo Wei's face turned pale.

He realized the terrible consequences:

Once this batch of food is transported to the front lines, it will be distributed to the hungry soldiers.

The soldiers would eat it without any suspicion.

Twelve hours later.

Toxin outbreak.

Thousands of soldiers would fall in the trenches, foaming at the mouth, their nerves dying.

This is more than just a medical accident.

This was a military disaster.

As for the providers of this grain, the Valentius family, including Rhovi Dane, will be crushed to pieces by the enraged Imperial war machine.

"That bastard chieftain wants to destroy us completely. He's using the empire as a tool to kill our people."

This is a doomed situation!

"What should we do?" The priest looked at Rowe, completely lost. "Should we tell Marquez? The ship hasn't even taken off yet, maybe it's not too late—"

"Don't tell him!"

Luo Wei shook his head.

"Consider Márquez's logic. If we were to tell him now that this batch of grain is essentially poison planted by aliens, what would he do?"

"He will start the purification process immediately," the priest answered instinctively.

“That’s right,” Rowe said coldly. “He will determine that Plenty II has been severely infiltrated by gene thieves. He will execute me, execute the governor, and even, in pursuit of efficiency, skip the necessary screening procedures and execute all 120 million people on Plenty II directly.”

Luo Wei paused, his expression turning grave, and said, "Moreover, even if we report it, we can't provide a replacement grain. If we admit there's a problem with this batch of grain, it means we'll be forced to stop paying our tithes. The outcome won't be good."

Tell Márquez it's death.

If they don't tell Márquez, and the food gets to the front lines and poisons people, the court will find out and he'll be executed anyway.

He needs to calm himself down and find a third way.

Alpha cried anxiously, "What do we do? Advisor, we have to save ourselves. The ship hasn't even taken off yet; we still have one last chance. Governor, yes, only the Governor can save us!"

Father Alpha, in a moment of inspiration, devised a solution: "We can't directly admit the food is poisoned; that's a capital offense. But we can use the privileges of the Valentius family to apply to Márquez for an 'emergency change of use for the supplies.'"

"We can fabricate data claiming that this batch of Grey Mule No. 1 underwent uncontrollable chemical degradation during secondary fermentation, rendering it unsuitable for human consumption."

The priest's servo skull flew over and projected a draft application form.

"We are requesting that this batch of supplies be downgraded from solid biofuel/emergency high-energy compressed blocks" to industrial chemical raw materials."

"It is recommended to ship it to the foundry world to refine it into a raw material additive or a bio-lubricant for heavy machinery."

"This would mean we face hefty fines for delivering substandard goods, and the tithe rating of the Plenty II would drop to the lowest possible level. You and the Governor would both face severe administrative penalties."

"But at least the food won't be eaten, it won't poison people, and we won't be labeled as traitors colluding with the aliens!"

This is a clever self-rescue plan.

Once the nature of food is transformed into industrial raw materials and poured into furnaces and oil tanks, the existence of toxins becomes irrelevant.

Father Alpha said hopefully, "Advisor, please contact the Governor now. If she's willing to use her family's connections in the Gothic Sector and the special influence of the 'Holy Expeditionary Charter,' Marquez will agree."

"It's better for him to bring back a ship full of industrial raw materials than a ship full of poison. He's also afraid of being held liable."

Lowe commented, "The solution is perfect, Alpha."

"If it had happened yesterday morning, I would have taken this advice without hesitation. Even if it meant going bankrupt and paying fines, I would have stopped this shipment."

"It's a pity—she's not here."

Father Alpha was stunned; the twitching of the robotic arm paused for a moment.

"What do you mean? The Governor is in the spire; we only need a communication device—"

Luo Wei put it more clearly: "She is not on Plenty II."

Luo Wei went to the worktable and poured himself a cup of synthetic coffee.

"Yesterday afternoon, I received a top-secret encrypted message from Lilith, the head of the guards."

"Governor Alicia boarded the Valantius family's flagship and sailed away from the local gravitational well."

"Her destination is the capital of the Gothic Sector. In order to cross this long void abyss, the fleet must cut through the veil of reality and undertake a long-distance warp voyage."

Luo Wei took a sip of his bitter, cold coffee and continued, "This is a planned trip."

"She needs to travel to the capital for her annual report, and at the same time, she needs to conduct political lobbying, using her family's influence to win more allies for Valentius."

Rowe turned to look at the priest sprawled on the ground and bluntly stated the truth: "You know the rules of warp travel."

"Once you dive into that mad sea of ​​souls, regular communication in the real world will be completely cut off."

"To prevent spying by subspace entities, the fleet must maintain absolute silence."

"This means that for the next two to four weeks, she will be completely out of contact, as if she has disappeared from the real universe."

"The current Abundance II is in a power vacuum."

"Without her signature, without the coat of arms of the Valentius family, I am merely a humble agricultural advisor."

"I am not qualified to walk into Márquez's office and ask him to change the Ministry of the Interior's tithe list."

"If we go to Márquez now and tell him there's a problem with the food, but we can't offer the governor's endorsement or an alternative—"

Luo Wei didn't finish his sentence.

Because we have already analyzed the possible consequences.

The red light in Father Alpha's eyes gradually dimmed.

Despair ensued.

The only political protector has disappeared.

They are trapped in this dead end.

"It's over—it's all over—"

—”

The priest let out a mournful cry.

"We are doomed. My soul—my soul will never return to the embrace of the god of machines."

Fear caused the priest's logic to malfunction.

He began to go berserk, his mechanical arm flailing wildly as he scratched at his metal mask.

"Advisor, you should write your will now. I need to prepare to format myself as well."

The priest muttered nervously, "I need to clear my memory bank and delete all the data about heretical research."

"That way—that way, when they extract my cerebral cortex, at least I'll appear to be innocent."

"Even if I die, I will die as a loyal technical priest."

The priest paused again at this point.

He seemed to have thought of something and moved closer to Luo Wei.

The cold metal mask was almost pressed against Luo Wei's face, and its electronic eyes gleamed with an eerie light.

"Consultant — Luo Wei, Consultant —"

"Since we're all going to die anyway, have you ever considered—performing a different kind of existence?"

"I can perform the surgery for you right now. Right here."

The priest pointed to the operating table next to him, which was covered in oil stains.

"I can remove your brain, preserve your core consciousness, and then upload you to the Case Wetware server."

"Although you've lost your body, and although you'll have to squeeze together with Fatty Case's remaining consciousness, at least—your logical thinking will be preserved."

"Being a high-level wet component is better than being purified to ashes by the flames of the Inquisition, right?"

"Join us, join the glorious Cult of Mechanics. This is the last mercy I can do for you."

On the eve of his death, the tech priest's greatest regret was that he had not been able to transform his partner into a machine.

Lo Wei was neither angry nor mocking.

He knew that the priest was trying to find psychological relief in this absurd way out of genuine fear.

"alpha."

Lo Wei put down his coffee cup.

"Put away your scalpel. My brain needs to be used for thinking, not as a bunch of data and code."

Lowell's tone left no room for argument.

"Also, go to your database and find that old version of the 'Sector War Zone Losses Yearbook'."

Father Alpha was taken aback.

His logic processor was somewhat unable to keep up with Lo Wei's pace.

"Advisor—what's the use of looking at this now? The data is already very clear: Gray Mule No. 1 is a deadly poison—"

"Execute the command."

Luo Wei's voice rose a few decibels.

The priest obeyed instinctively.

This is a conditioned reflex that has been formed over a long period of time.

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