Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Fizex curled his lip in disdain.

"Those green-skinned scavengers picked it all up. Don't you know them? Anything that's shiny, can be held in your hand, or shoots fire, they take it all to their den. Guns, ammunition, armor, and all that stuff, they carried it all to their camp."

Where is the orc camp?

"Hehehe, you want to go to the headquarters of three million greens and carry out an armed robbery? Bug, your brain is full of mushrooms or maggots."

Lawson ignored its taunts.

He certainly didn't intend to launch an armed raid on a camp with three million Greenskins. He wasn't some Khorne believer whose brain had been cleaved in two by a chainsaw.

But he needs weapons.

It is urgently needed.

Lawson changed the angle of the question.

"Besides the Greenskin camp, is there anywhere else on this wrecked ship where weapons are stored? Armory, armory, ammunition storage, anything that could be called a weapons storage area."

Fizex narrowed his one eye slightly.

Lawson immediately noticed the fleeting hesitation in its expression.

That wasn't hesitation while thinking about the answer; it was hesitation because one already knew the answer but was evaluating whether or not to say it.

My mischievous nature is at work.

Even if the ability to lie is bound by the oath of true name, it will still instinctively try to preserve its bargaining power by "not saying".

After all, the oath is supposed to be free of deception and omissions, but what if the other party doesn't ask that specific question?

This is the gray area that the little devil excels at.

Unfortunately, Lawson got the question.

At the same time, Lawson's hand tightened.

"Gah—wait, wait, wait!" Fizex struggled violently between Lawson's iron-like fingers, its two pitiful little wings flapping frantically on its back: "Stop pinching me! Stop pinching me! I'll talk!"

Lawson loosened his grip slightly.

“There is one.”

Fizekes said somewhat reluctantly, “It’s not far from here. It’s about two hundred meters away, in a branch maintenance passage on deck seventy-five.”

"It was originally a small shipborne weapons storage compartment of one of the warships on this wrecked ship. It was hidden behind a collapsed corridor, and the entrance was covered by rubble and deformed metal plates. The Greenskins couldn't find it."

"Those mushroom-headed guys have brains full of slag and dung; they only scavenge what they can see at a glance. The armory door was completely blocked by a collapsed bulkhead, making it look like a dead wall from the outside."

Lawson stared at Fizex for a few seconds.

The True Name Oath is still in effect.

If it is lying, the warp's covenant will immediately backfire.

It is telling the truth.

"lead the way."

Lawson gently pushed Fizex's neck forward to indicate the direction.

“Are you going to carry me by the neck?” Fizex let out a humiliating scream.

"What else? Let you walk on the ground? Let you slip away by crawling into the wall?"

"I swore an oath using my real name! I cannot lie!"

"You swore that everything you said was true."

Lawson said calmly, "You didn't swear that you wouldn't slip away when I wasn't looking. You chose the wording of the oath yourself."

Fizex's expression froze for a moment.

The single eye darted around quickly, clearly recalling the precise wording of its oath, and in a very short time realized that Lawson was absolutely right.

Its oath only covers the truth of what it says, not its freedom of action. It can indeed slip back into a wall node eroded by the warp and disappear into the space between reality and the warp.

"You're not like an ordinary shrimp soldier."

“Let’s go.” Lawson did not answer its probing.

He carried Fizex and led five assassins away from the shuttle wreckage.

Before crossing the outer corridor, Lawson first confirmed the location of the nearby orc patrol through telepathy.

Sporadic gunshots and explosions could be heard in the distance, probably another Greenskin tribe fighting with another tribe over spoils.

In the Greenskin society, besides fighting with enemies, the most popular form of entertainment is fighting with one's own people.

Lawson seized the opportunity.

The six people moved through the passageway in an efficient and quiet formation.

Number 1 led the way, Numbers 4 and 5 were on the flanks, and Numbers 2 and 3 guarded Lawson in the middle. Lawson's left hand was always choking Fizex's neck, and his right hand was holding the explosive gun with only one bullet left.

Although Fizex was being choked, as a subspace creature, its perception of its surroundings far surpassed that of humans.

It could smell the rough and violent Waaagh energy emanating from the green-skinned soul.

“Don’t go down that passage on the left,” Fizex suddenly whispered.

Lawson stopped in his tracks.

"There's a group of green-skinned people dismantling things over there, at least twenty of them."

Lawson communicated with Number 1 to verify, and Number 1 climbed up the ventilation duct and poked its head out towards the left passage.

Sure enough, in a spacious cabin about forty meters away, a group of orc boys and farts were chattering away as they disassembled an Imperial machine of unknown age into parts.

The little devil's information was accurate.

They took a detour.

About fifteen minutes later, they arrived at their destination.

Chapter 15 Armory in a Derelict Ship

Deck 75, feeder maintenance access.

As Fizekes said, the entrance to the armory was completely obscured by a collapsed bulkhead and twisted metal plates.

From the outside, it looks like a completely blocked, abandoned passage.

"The door is behind those rubble stones."

Fizex pointed with its forked tail to a plate in the lower right corner that looked more regular than the other metal plates.

"That's the original door panel. It still has the Imperial Eagle emblem on it. If you don't mind the dirt, you can see it by peeling away the layer of dust."

Lawson gestured for number 1 to come forward.

Number 1 checked the edge of the metal plate, found a gap where he could put his hands on it, and then inserted them into the gap.

His arm muscles bulged in the dim light, veins popping out.

"Crunch... crunch crunch..."

The metal plate began to deform under his brute force, its edges being violently pried out inch by inch from the grooves in the wall.

The entire door panel was forcibly ripped off the door frame by Number 1, revealing a rectangular entrance behind it large enough for a person to pass through.

Behind the entrance was complete darkness.

洛森让2号和3号在门口警戒，自己带着1号、4号和5号走了进去。

Fizex was still in his grasp.

This is a standard Imperial shipborne small arms storage compartment, approximately twenty meters long and ten meters wide.

The walls on both sides are fitted with multi-tiered metal weapon racks, though the passage of time has left them covered in a thick layer of dust and rust.

Lawson's pupils dilated slightly the instant he saw the entire interior of the cabin.

Hundreds of weapons.

On the first shelf on the left, at least forty standard MG Astral Army laser guns were neatly stacked, their overall structure still appearing intact. On the lower shelf below the laser guns, there were more than a dozen sealed storage boxes for charged magazines.

The second shelf from the left is the explosive weapons section.

Lawson immediately recognized the familiar silhouettes: the Locke bomb gun, the bomb pistol, and two heavy bomb guns with longer, thicker barrels.

Beside them, ammunition boxes were neatly stacked, the brass-colored .75 caliber explosive rounds gleaming coldly in the dust.

The shelf on the right has a wider variety of items.

Crates of Imperial standard fragmentation grenades and high-explosive grenades were carefully secured to shock-absorbing frames.

There were also a few Imperial chainsaw swords, those terrifying melee weapons whose blades were made of tiny, rapidly rotating chains. Although the chains were quite rusty due to lack of maintenance, they could be put back into operation with a little oil.

There were also several Merta explosive tubes, as well as some explosives and detonators that Rosen couldn't identify.

Deep within the armory, on a single metal support, sits a circular powered shield.

Its shield is about 60 centimeters in diameter, with obvious dents and scratches on the edges. In the center of the shield is an imperial eagle emblem that has been mostly worn away by time.

On the back of the shield is a set of leather and metal straps that can be fixed to the forearm, as well as a small force field generator connected to an energy battery.

The power shield's force field generator can generate an energy shield in front of the shield, which can withstand attacks from lasers, bullets, and even low-power plasma for a short period of time.

Based on the age of this shield, the battery should be able to provide continuous defense for a few more minutes.

But in the space between life and death, a few minutes can sometimes be the difference between eternity and a fleeting moment.

"May the Emperor protect us," Lawson whispered.

He released his grip, moved the Fizex under his arm, reached for a Lockheed Martin grenades pistol, pulled back the bolt to check the mechanical structure—it was in good working order.

The protective effect of rust-preventive oil plays a role in the sealed environment.

Although not as smooth as a brand new weapon, all the mechanical components are still functioning properly.

He was about to put down the gun to check the ammunition box...

Then something happened.

At the edge of his field of vision, a bomb gun placed on the top shelf of the right side moved.