Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 125 Absence

Chapter 125 Absenteeism: The acid rain continues to fall, growing increasingly violent.

The searchlight beams from the D-4 takeoff and landing platform pierced through the murky rain and shone on the empty steel deck.

The "Terra Nexus," as imposing as a mountain, had long since disappeared above the clouds.

Under the awning, Rowe watched the tithe fleet depart.

His expression did not become much more relaxed.

Although the chief apothecary of the Astral Ruler, Galan, took away a "gene thief list" that was enough to plunge the entire Abundance II into annihilation, thus completing an unspeakable purge for him.

Although the ruthless and rigid tax official Márquez took away a ship, the "Grey Mule 1," which could have triggered a tithe audit crisis, he turned this deadly poison into compliant fuel.

But Luo Wei knew very well that this was only a temporary solution to a bad debt.

He deceived the officials of the Ministry of the Interior and used Astartes' knife.

Each of these actions was enough to send him to the stake in the courtroom.

At the same time, this was also the third month since Luo Wei came into this world and survived.

Following the habits of my past life, this is the end of a quarter, and it's time to prepare a "quarterly survival audit report".

Three months ago, he woke up on the corpse of a fourth-level clerk who had been poisoned.

They were facing a huge deficit of 270,000 tons of grain.

It was Chief Case's butcher's knife.

It was the stench of the Negroid plague.

At that time, he was a "bad debt" destined to be written off.

Now, more than ninety days have passed.

He completed this tithe payment, which was otherwise impossible.

This is a financial report stained with blood.

It was mixed with his hard work, lies, scheming, and fake accounts.

There are also the ashes of many mortals struggling to survive in this cold universe.

"We barely made a profit this quarter."

Luo Wei concluded in this way.

However, he knew that there was no such thing as "peace" in the world of Warhammer 40.

For ordinary people, simply wanting to live is a luxury, and wanting to eat a full meal is an overreach.

He has only just survived a survival crisis and has begun to gain a foothold.

As long as the patriarch of the "Star Child" cult remains alive.

As long as the "shepherd" wizards of Nurgle remain watching with predatory eyes.

As long as the shadow of the warp still looms over this place.

As long as the empire's oppressive policies continue.

His "survival balance sheet" is at risk of collapsing at any time.

This was not only the first tithe paid to the empire.

It was also his first pledge of allegiance to this hopeless world.

The road ahead is still long.

But the accounts are never-ending.

Father Alpha's voice broke his train of thought.

"Advisor, data shows that the subspace readings around the takeoff and landing platform have fallen back to the safe threshold."

This outlier from the Cult of Mechanics was directing several mech servants to cover the Chimera 1 tank, which had just performed a great service, with a thick tarpaulin.

The priest stared into the void with his three prosthetic eyes and said regretfully, "Ten elite hybrid samples, which means ten psionicists."

"If it weren't taken away, even just a single fragment could help us strengthen our research on the fusion of Terra biomass and the plague gene."

"It's not worth regretting, Alpha," Rowe said calmly. "Ten elite hybrids remaining on Plenty II are like ticking time bombs; they will attract the Inquisition's investigation and purge."

Father Alpha nodded, his robotic arm wiping the oil stains off his red robe, his prosthetic eye flashing with a rational blue light.

"You're right, Advisor. Logic must prevail over greed. Now that the tithe delivery is complete and the fleet has departed, it's time for us to return to the eastern granaries."

"I need to put Gluttony into a deep dormancy and maintenance overnight. With proper care, it will definitely still be very useful before the next crisis, or rather, the next opportunity, arrives."

Rowe replied, "Okay, I'll have Buck say hello to Bill, then we can head home."

As soon as Luo Wei finished speaking, the Ministry of the Interior identification card in his arms suddenly beeped.

This is an administrative summons.

Luo Wei took out the identification card.

A line of green high Gothic characters was flashing on the screen.

Instructions from the Personnel Department of the Agricultural Administration Institute No. 2:

[Love Dane, Fourth-Rank Clerk.]

[Subject: Explanation of attendance irregularities during the fourth quarter tithe collection period.]

Please report to Room 302 of the Agricultural Executive Yuan building within one hour.

After reading it, Luo Wei gave a bitter smile.

This is the absurdity of empire.

During the four days of this tithe handover, he chatted and laughed with the Space Marines.

A battle of wits with tax officials who wield the power of life and death.

It even once determined the fate of millions of people on this planet.

And this moment.

As the fleet that had been collecting tithes departed.

All grand narratives come to an abrupt end.

Reality descended like an iron curtain.

He reverted to being a lowly, low-level employee.

They tremble with fear at the sight of a few red crosses on the attendance sheet for absences.

To be honest, his current status is both special and awkward.

On one hand, he was Alicia, the second governor of the bountiful region, personally appointed as the special agricultural advisor, wielding life-or-death power over the eastern granary.

In a crisis, he could also contact Chief of the Guard Lilith and mobilize a portion of the planetary defense forces.

On the other hand, his official position was firmly attached to the Agricultural Administration Bureau under the Ministry of the Interior of the Empire.

His rank was fourth-level clerk.

His salary, ration coupons, and personnel file were all managed by the Agricultural Executive Yuan.

The Governor's Office gave him the authority to do things.

The Executive Yuan of Agriculture granted him legal status.

This is a form of dual jurisdiction.

In the empire’s vast and cumbersome bureaucracy, this dual identity often meant double the trouble.

The Governor's Office values ​​results.

The Agricultural Executive Yuan only focuses on procedures.

Lowe straightened his collar, took off the black ring that symbolized the governor's privilege, and put it into his inner pocket.

He needs to change his image.

A little over ten minutes later, a small shuttle carrying Rowe flew to the upper levels of the hive.

Fengrao No. 2, the Agricultural Administration Building.

This magnificent Gothic building, located on the edge of the upper district of the city, is perpetually shrouded in acidic fumes from industrial waste.

In the corridor, junior clerks in gray robes hurried between offices, carrying stacks of documents half their height.

Their faces were pale, and their eyes were numb.

Rowe walked through the maze-like corridors and arrived at room 302.

The sign for "Personnel Department" hung crookedly on the door, covered with stains that were hard to tell whether they were oil or rust.

Luo Wei knocked on the door, and only after hearing an impatient "Come in" from inside did he push the door open and enter.

The office was filled with filing cabinets, almost blocking all the passageways.

Behind a desk by the window sat a middle-aged man with an overweight build.

He was wearing a slightly tight Executive Yuan uniform.

He wore a brass badge on his chest, representing his rank of "section chief".

His left eye was a cloudy electronic prosthetic eye, emitting a faint buzzing sound.

This is Section Chief Molin.

A typical mid-level bureaucrat in an empire.

He didn't care about the war outside, nor did he care whether the aliens would devour the world.

He only cares whether the forms are filled out and whether the process is compliant.

"Love Dane".

"I can't even look up," said Section Chief Morin without looking up.

He buried himself in a report on "office supplies loss rate".

His chubby hand pointed to a stack of attendance cards on the corner of the table.

"Explain."

Luo Wei stepped forward, maintaining a slightly bowed posture.

"Section Chief, you mean—"

"Absent from work." Morin looked up, his electronic prosthetic eye turning and locking onto Lo Wei.

"In the past month, as the resident clerk of the eastern granary, you have missed the daily data entry meeting a total of twenty-six times."

Morin's fingers tapped on the table, making an aggressive sound.

"Twenty-six violations. According to Article 742 of the 'Regulations for the Management of Employees of the Ministry of the Interior,' this is enough to dismiss you from the Executive Yuan of Agriculture, strip you of your citizenship, throw you into a low-level city as a refugee, or make you a machine servant."

Morin's eyes were sinister, exuding a menacing aura as he said, "I know what you're thinking. You think you can rest easy just because you have the governor's back? Don't be naive, Rowe."

"What the Valentius family needs is a watchdog chained up in the Agricultural Administration Office, not a stray dog ​​that has been kicked out and lost its identity."

"Once you lose your position in the Ministry of the Interior, you'll be utterly worthless to their enormous family."

"The Urantius family is fickle. Once you're no longer of use, they'll discard you without hesitation."

"Falling from the clouds to the mud can happen overnight, and there have been precedents for this."

Faced with Mo Yu's aggressive attitude, Luo Wei couldn't help but sneer inwardly.

This guy clearly lacks an accurate understanding of the current situation.

He's not some doorman seeking refuge.

He was the only "white glove" in the governor's hands who could handle dirty work, and he was an irreplaceable and valuable asset.

However, Maureen was right about one thing.

Even for a low-level clerk, the "Executive Yuan system" is crucial.

It acts like an invisible breakwater, shielding him from countless unnecessary troubles in this cannibalistic world.

Upon hearing the precedent mentioned by Zhi Dingmo, Luo Wei quickly retrieved a memory from his mind.

The most recent case three years ago.

There was a young female scribe who stole a beautiful woman and caught the eye of a nobleman from the upper class of the capital.

The female clerk thought she had found love and a way to transcend social classes.

He was determined to resign from his public office, go to the upper echelons of the capital, and live a good life with that nobleman.

As a result, when the nobleman learned that she had lost her position in the Ministry of the Interior and was no longer under the protection of the Executive Yuan, his attitude immediately changed, and he treated her as a private slave.

Less than six months later, the female clerk's body was found in the sewage pipes of the lower level of the city.

He was completely naked, and his death was gruesome.

These three are among the fundamental laws of the empire:

The third identity is a shield.

"Yes," Luo Wei feigned panic, "Section Chief, as you know, I've been summoned by the Governor's Office recently."

"Governor Alicia has appointed me as Special Advisor on Agriculture, responsible for coordinating the tithes of the Eastern Granary in the Seventh Agricultural War Zone."

"I've been on the front lines, in the warehouse, on the takeoff and landing platform—"

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