Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"Want to become a machine servant? Sure. Exchange it for equivalent resources, weapon blueprints, or advanced technology. I, Lawson, always believe in fairness in business."

Lawson's voice suddenly turned cold, revealing a murderous intent that could freeze engine oil.

"But if you dare to reach out and take even a single screw on my turf without prior notice."

“I promise. I will personally dismantle your dilapidated factory, scoop out the last one percent of your rotten flesh, and stuff it into the belly of a sewer rat.”

Communication was cut off. Only a piercing dial tone remained.

At the entrance to the military camp, two hundred soldiers simultaneously chambered their rounds. The clanging of metal against metal was particularly jarring in the silent wilderness.

The Great Sage's servo skull floated in mid-air, its red electronic eyes flashing wildly, and its core array performing intense high-frequency calculations.

grab?

There were only two hundred ordinary people in front of them. The Mechanic Corps had several hundred armed mechs, whose firepower was absolutely overwhelming.

But in the Great Sage's logical circuit, the image of those thirty-six living metal discs that were slaughtering high-ranking nobles at supersonic speeds in the five nest cities, and the terrifying figure carrying the spoils of the Great Demon immediately flashed through his mind.

Risk assessment. Win rate: Approaching zero infinitely.

The tracked convoy emitted a screeching sound of brakes.

The Great Sage mechanically rotated his compound eyes, glancing at the five million top-tier mech chassis within the military camp. A reluctant metallic scraping sound emanated from the synthesizer.

Then.

Under the unperturbed gaze of the two teams of assassins.

The massive Dark Mechanicus convoy began to slowly and humiliatingly turn around on the spot.

The tracks rolled over the cracked, barren ground, kicking up a cloud of red dust.

Thousands of heavy troop carriers lined up in a long queue, like a dusty iron snake, slowly winding their way back towards the Fifth Nest City.

The camp gates remained tightly shut. The two hundred soldiers stood motionless, like steel statues nailed to the ground.

The Dark Mechanicus wants these five million dogs, but they need Lawson's permission.

Lawson's consent was never free.

The war on the first main star has been completely quelled.

The cleanup work that swept the globe didn't require Lawson's personal attention at all.

Five hundred thousand non-combatant assassins, like a precision machine running at its peak, took over every gear of the planet's operation. Dressed in grey Ministry of Government uniforms, their faces ashen, they moved through the blood-soaked streets of the hive capital and the guild halls.

Disposing of the body became the top priority.

During Krauser's reign, this planet was a breeding ground for slaughter every day. The recent crackdown and Shadow Wheel purge created millions of mutilated corpses. Mountains of body parts piled up in the streets, the middle levels of the hive, and the noble estates, emitting a pungent stench.

Chapter 128 Taking stock of the spoils, Er Gou and San Gou return!

The assassins requisitioned all the heavy dump trucks, hover barges, and industrial cranes in the hive.

They shoveled the bodies into the train car like garbage.

The whereabouts of these pieces of meat aroused the curiosity of some ordinary people at the bottom of society.

The Empire's standard method of disposing of corpses was to send them to the Corpse Guild, where they underwent crude chemical preservation and high-temperature boiling to be pressed into "corpse starch" that could feed them.

Lawson issued an absolute, iron-fisted ban.

These corpses on the primary planet, especially the millions of Khorne followers and Bloodsteel Guard remnants shredded by the Shadow Wheel, are absolutely forbidden from entering the human food recycling system.

These madmen had injected themselves with high concentrations of anabolic steroids, berserk drugs, and even drunk demon blood for years. Deep within their cells, their bodies were already etched with Khorne's manic genes and subspace toxins.

If ordinary people consume these starches made from meat, it will inevitably trigger large-scale neurological disorders and abnormal mania.

The suicide squad transported millions of tons of rotting flesh to the deepest abyss of the five hive cities on Planet One.

The exhaust valve opened. The heavy-duty dump truck dumped massive amounts of body parts into the bottomless waste pit.

As early as the bottom nest of Planet One, Lawson had simultaneously planned the second batch of "Project Ironbone".

Tens of thousands of assassins skilled in bio-modification have begun constructing massive green cultivation pools along the toxic lake of the Bottom Nest. Tons of green-skinned orc spores are being precisely scattered into the mountains of corpses.

The most greedy and least picky of the low-level green-skinned creatures, Squig, will emerge from its cocoon here.

Their stomach acid is sufficient to digest the corrupting toxins of the subspace. They will frantically devour the flesh and blood tainted with the aura of Khorne, filtering out all the deadly chemicals and chaotic impurities, ultimately transforming the corpses into the purest, highest-density Squiger muscle fibers.

Once mature, the assassins will decapitate these Squigs on the assembly line, drain their life points, and send the remaining pure alien flesh chunks to the food processing plant.

The best fate for heretics is to become high-protein sustenance in the bellies of ordinary people.

Obolus III, the primary star.

The top of the tower, the central command hub.

Lawson returned to his base camp.

He stood on the wide obsidian platform, pressed the armor buckle on his neck, and a dull metallic thud was heard.

Several assassins immediately stepped forward and began to strip Lawson of his Tiger King armor.

This ancient armor, forged in countless bloody battles, was now riddled with wounds. The shoulder armor bore a deep groove from the Great Demon's fiery whip, and the chest plate bore charred marks from the scorching heat of a plasma weapon. The living metal lining was slowly writhing, automatically repairing the minute molecular cracks.

Lawson removed his armor, revealing his muscular upper body, and sat down in front of the command throne in the hall.

"Report the results of the battle."

He closed his eyes, and his right brain was directly connected to the network terminal of swarm intelligence.

Now, it's time to tally up the spoils of this incredible gamble.

The first piece of data made Lawson's breath catch in his throat for half a second.

On the system's retinal interface, the golden numbers representing [subspace energy] were jumping wildly at a dizzying frequency, eventually settling on a terrifying astronomical number.

[Current subspace energy balance: 690 million points.]

Lawson gripped the armrest of the throne tightly.

Before heading to Planet One to carry out the decapitation and ship-seizure plan, he only had 850,000 energy points in his account. He was still a full 150,000 points short of the one million energy point threshold needed to complete the next genetic base leap.

This intergalactic expedition directly increased his energy reserves by nearly eight times!

The massacre of the 100,000 Khorne demons that had been trapped and slaughtered became the biggest source of revenue. Coupled with the millions of Khorne followers in the hive capital of Planet One, this unprecedented wave of soul annihilation snatched this enormous resource—enough to shake the entire sector—from the mouths of the four Chaos Gods.

690 million points of subspace energy.

This means that Lawson can complete the fourth stage of genetic base leap at any time. He can use the [Single Organ Targeted Enhancement System] at will to unlock "Star Eye," "Eagle Eye," and other mutant organs that break genetic limitations for his army of assassins in batches.

He now had the means to squander money.

"Open the fleet panel," Lawson commanded.

The holographic projection stand hummed. A detailed orbital star map unfolded in the center of the hall.

At the very center of the star map, a Tyrant-class heavy cruiser, 5.5 kilometers long, is quietly suspended in synchronous orbit around the primary star, surrounded by four Sword-class escort ships, each 1.6 kilometers long.

Control of the fleet has been completely transferred.

Prior to this, although Lawson's forces had demonstrated terrifying dominance on the ground, he always faced a fatal weakness: he lacked air superiority and the void power capable of warp travel.

His army was firmly trapped on the surface of Planet Three. Once they encountered a rogue Space Marine chapter with heavy firepower or a large alien raiding fleet, the enemy only needed to stay in synchronous orbit and use macro cannons to carpet-bomb the area, leaving Lawson to passively take hits from his underground bunkers.

Now, the noose around his neck has been completely severed.

Five fully loaded interstellar warships gave Lawson a true sector-level deterrent capability.

The Tyrant-class heavy cruiser was equipped with thirty-six heavy macrogun arrays on each side, capable of destroying the continental shelf, and its bow concealed a light lance generator capable of piercing asteroids. Given the order from Lawson, this fleet could inflict absolute physical destruction on the surface at any moment.

Anyone who dares to cause trouble on the surface can have a cannonball shoved directly into their skull by Lawson.

More importantly, these five warships possess sophisticated warp engines and Geller force field generators. Combined with Lawson's "mini-sun" suspended in the warp as an absolute navigational beacon, Lawson's fleet can perform warp jumps with minimal error and absolute safety in the dimly lit Imperial side of the Starfire.

He now possesses the capability to project military power into other star systems.

As Lawson surveyed the fleet, a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.

"Notify Starport. Repaint this Tyrant-class cruiser. Rename it 'Avenger'. Assign the four escort ships to the First Strike Group."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant immediately recorded and sent the order.

After taking stock of the highest strategic forces, Lawson turned his attention to land warfare equipment.

This is a fortune that would drive any warlord mad with envy.

Space Marine's power armor.

After the main veterans of the World Eater Chapter fell, they left behind a total of 120 power armor suits covered in wounds.

At this moment, in the underground armory of Planet Three, thousands of assassin technicians who possessed advanced repair skills from the Mechanical Repair Society were violently cleaning these scarlet armors with high-pressure water guns and chemical solvents.

Although the warp energy within had been purified by the [Arsenal], many steps still required manual labor. They needed to thoroughly wash away the remaining minced meat, bone fragments, and stinking demon blood inside the armor.

The grinder emitted a harsh grinding sound, smoothing out all the eight-pointed star runes and brass skull decorations that symbolized Khorne on the armor's surface.

Although these power armors were severely damaged in the fierce battle—some dented by storm shields, others with their terracotta shells shattered by explosives—the assassins possessed micromanagement and repair capabilities that even the Great Sages could only dream of. In just one week, these 120 armors could be completely restored and returned to the battlefield.

"Retrieve the armor damage report for the Iron Warriors Legion." Lawson tapped the armrest of the throne.

Several gruesome photos of scrap metal flashed across the holographic screen.

The six veteran Iron Warriors hired to protect the governor met a tragic end. Apart from the squad leader, Walters, who left behind a relatively intact torso armor, the Mark III "Ironclad" power armor of the other five was completely turned into unrecyclable industrial waste.

Looking at the photos of armored wreckage riddled with holes, Lawson couldn't help but utter a vulgar curse.

"These good-for-nothing bastards!"

Those five veteran Iron Warriors were forced into a corner by the shield wall of the company commander-level suicide soldiers, and then killed by being bombarded at point-blank range with heavy bomb guns and plasma incinerators.

The suicide squad members absolutely executed the tactical order to "annihilate the enemy with maximum efficiency." This point-to-point heavy firepower coverage directly caused the power backpacks of the five power armors to explode, and their chest armors were melted into molten iron by plasma. Apart from the two broken leg armors and several twisted arm armors, the core miniature nuclear fusion reactor and neural interface were completely destroyed.

Even a god couldn't fix it.

"Never mind. Things always break in war." Lawson waved his hand and closed the photos that pained him.

The spoils that were displayed next instantly swept away Lawson's resentment.

They were two enormous, mobile fortress-like metal structures.

Iron Cavalry Type Terminator Armor.

These two suits of armor were given to the World Eater Company Commander Kargos and his adjutant.