Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

Erin: "Then why not let me try? I haven't died yet."

"You!" Veins bulged on the supervisor's forehead as he grabbed Erin by the collar. "I'm going to grant your wish today!"

Erin spat out a mouthful of blood foam. His voice was as soft as if he were discussing the weather. "Go ahead and kill me. See how many people you can kill today. It would be best if you kill us all. We'll all die if we don't pay our mineral quotas. What about you? Will the Technology Guild spare you?"

The overseer's expression suddenly froze. For a long time, whipping and scolding slaves was as natural as breathing. The class gap made him regard slavery as natural.

But now, after Erin's reminder, he realized the seriousness of the problem.

Slaves are their dogs, but aren't they also the dogs of the Technical Guild?

They were able to control these dogs now because they could provide the Technology Guild with mineral quotas. But if Lycaeus suddenly couldn't deliver the minerals, what would the Technology Guild do to them?

"Get out of the mine right now!" The overseer gritted his teeth, each word coming out as if squeezed from between his teeth. "I can pretend that what happened today never happened!"

Erin suddenly chuckled, "I told you, we won't take shifts until you agree to our request."

The supervisor's face suddenly turned purple, and spit splattered as he roared, "Do you all want to die?"

Erin nodded. "Then let's die together. We're just a bunch of slaves, living in darkness all day long. What's the difference between living and dying?"

The slaves straightened their backs and looked quietly at the overseers around them, because they all saw that the overseers were cowardly.

Now that the supervisor is afraid, they are no longer afraid.

If I could really drag these supervisors to be buried with me, it would be worth it even if I died.

The supervisor finally realized that something was wrong. He staggered back two steps. His whip was no match for the situation. This was beyond his ability to handle!

The alarm in the black tower suddenly tore through the dead silence. Amidst the shrill beeps, Gate No. 12 slowly opened like the fangs of a giant beast.

The fully armed suppression troops marched into the hall in neat tactical steps, the eyepieces of their riot helmets emitting a faint blood-red glow in the darkness.

They silently formed an encirclement, the sound of laser rifles charging up like a venomous snake spitting out its tongue, and the black muzzles of heavy logging rifles were pointed down at the crowd.

This is not a posture of maintaining order, but a posture of massacre in preparation for clearing the area.

There was a commotion among the slaves. Some stumbled backwards, and the dull thud of flesh colliding was occasionally mixed with a few suppressed gasps.

But Erin was nailed to the front of the team like an ironclad figure, his eyes fixed on the woman who walked out of Door No. 12.

Her sharp eyes swept across the tumultuous crowd, and a cold arc appeared at the corner of her lips: "I am Director Elena. If you go back to work right now-"

The ending of her deliberately drawn-out tone suddenly tightened, "I can let bygones be bygones and pretend none of this ever happened!"

Her voice was not loud, but it pierced through the noise like a sharp blade.

Erin: "Kill me."

She suddenly burst into a harsh sneer. "What do you think this strike can shake? The quotas in the warehouse are piling up like a mountain. Even if you all die, it won't have any impact. I'm only giving you one chance!"

Erin: "Kill me."

Elena's gaze was like an icy blade, scraping across Erin's face inch by inch. "Are you really not afraid of death?"

Erin: "I'm afraid of death, aren't you too?"

"I told you, even if you all die, there's still plenty of quota in the warehouse!"

Erin laughed arrogantly. "If what you said is true, why not just have them shoot us all and replace us with a group of more obedient slaves?"

From the moment Elena said that she would let bygones be bygones, Elin knew that he had made the right bet.

Woppe's theory is coming true exactly!

True rulers never negotiate with ants unless they are afraid that the ants will gnaw through the beams.

If she really didn't care, why would she condescend to meet these lowly slaves?

"Then I'll grant your wish!" Elena's pistol flashed a cold light under the lumen light, and the barrel was against Erin's brow.

Erin closed his eyes: "Sharojin, you are second."

The boy took a step forward in silence. They both understood that someone had to make a sacrifice.

"Supervisor, kill him!" The supervisor, who had lost all face, shouted loudly.

"Shut up!"

Elena turned around suddenly and slapped the supervisor with her backhand, causing him to stagger back.

Before the crisp sound of flesh hitting flesh had subsided, she had already turned back to her sullen face, her pupils dancing with cold anger, "What do you want?"

There was indeed ample quota in the Black Tower's warehouse, but that was in the past.

Every director wanted to exceed the Technology Guild's targets, which forced them to exploit slaves more urgently and at the same time deliver the minerals in the warehouse to Kiaval in exchange for promotion from the Technology Guild.

By the time Elena took office, the warehouse was already empty.

If she fails to meet the quota, she will be finished too!

"We need 36 hours of rest between shifts, food rations must be doubled, and the treatment of the elderly and children must also be improved!"

"No way, you won't be able to meet your quota that way!"

"We will be punished if we fail to meet the quota, and we know our limits."

Elena sneered: "Aren't you afraid of death?"

Erin: "If we could live like human beings, we would also be afraid of death."

Elena stared at him closely. "I can give you 20 hours. That's my bottom line, but the mineral quota you submit each shift must also be increased by 30%!"

Chapter 107 Galaxy: Follow the Process or Come Directly? (5K)

After half an hour of pretentious bargaining, Elena reluctantly agreed to the workers' conditions: the rest time for each shift would be increased by eight hours, and the food ration would be increased by 50%. The price was that the quota of ore submitted for each shift had to be increased by 10%.

This was completely beyond Erin's initial expectations. If Wop hadn't reminded him in advance that he must bargain with the overseer, he would have agreed immediately.

The armed guards retreated to Gate 12, and the slaves were driven into the elevator under the whip of the overseers.

Wop: "Corax, what do you see?"

Corax: "I only see weakness."

The overseers congratulated themselves for suppressing the rebellion, and the slaves cheered for winning the strike.

But in this strike that started off well but ended badly, everyone's weaknesses were exposed.

The supervisors' weakness lies in shirking responsibility. They dare not take responsibility and can only hurriedly ask the supervisor to make a decision.

Erin's weakness lies in his hesitation. He ignored Wop's instructions and revealed his bottom line to the supervisor.

The slaves' weakness lay in their repetitions, and they retreated several times at critical moments. If it had not been for the young children blocking them from behind, the strike would probably have failed.

And Elena's weakness is the most ironic. If it weren't for her bluffing threats, I'm afraid Erin wouldn't be so confident.

They are not stupid, but they are short-sighted.

As long as you find their weak spots, you can force them to submit.

Wop: "Because both the overseers and the slaves were facing a strike for the first time, their limited knowledge left both sides at a loss as to what to do. This is precisely the greatest weakness of human nature: we always like to confine ourselves to confine ourselves to certain boundaries."

"You're different," Corax retorted hastily.

Wop shook his head. "Nothing's different. I'm human too."

Corax: "What about me?"

Wop thought for a moment, "Your cell is bigger."

Corax waited for him to explain.

Wop: "Everyone is a frog in a well, but the well mouth is different in size. Even if the well mouth is the same size, if you stand in different positions and angles, you will see different things."

Corax: "My brother too?"

"So do they, and so does your father."

Corax was confused. Hadn't Wop already spoken about himself?

"The Emperor, the frog, has a bigger well than anyone else. But he made the same mistake. He saw a piece of sky and thought it was the only way out, so he started jumping towards it desperately." Wop paused after finishing his words. "Forget it, I don't even want to talk to him anymore."

Corax's thoughts suddenly dragged him back to the laboratory beneath Terra. The Emperor looked at him and his brother through the cold glass of the incubator, his eyes dissecting them layer by layer like a scalpel.

That look didn't seem like he was observing a child, but more like he was inspecting a tool, a weapon—a monster.

Corax saw countless overlapping faces in the Emperor: the Lord of Mankind, the Tyrant, the Savior, the Prisoner, the Scientist, the Madman, the Warmonger, the Great Man, the Liar, the Prophet, the Executioner, the Martyr...

He was a complicated man, but he was not a father.

Wop suddenly twitched his lips in a self-deprecating smile. "It's ironic that I, a frog in a well, am trying to teach you how to observe the world. But since I'm trapped in the well myself, what I see and hear is inevitably limited by the well. So don't take my words as gospel truth. You should use your own eyes to measure the true sky beyond the well."

Corax automatically ignored Wop's self-deprecation and asked directly: "My brothers, did they jump out of the well?"

"Since we are all frogs in the well, who can really jump out? But I believe that their wells have indeed become wider, and they have seen the true colors of the sky. It is not just sunny and bright, but also dark clouds, violent storms, and voyeuristic demons."

Corax's eyes burned as he responded decisively, "Me too!"

The corners of Wop's lips curled up slightly, "I have always believed that you are as outstanding as your brothers."

Corax: "Just because I'm exceptional?"

Woppe handled it well, "And unique."

Each Primarch was unique, and he was used to it.

When the Emperor created the Primarchs, he passed on part of his own personality to them, which was not entirely a bad thing.

Precisely because of the Emperor's genetic genes, almost every Primarch has the mission of saving humanity in his bones.

Even if the four gods were fed Horus's puffs, they would still have to continue to deceive him with lies like 'The Emperor wants to sacrifice all of humanity to become a god'.

But misfortunes often follow blessings, and blessings often follow misfortunes. The flaws in their character are precisely the cause of their downfall.

Corax shook his head slowly, his eyes calm and deep:

"What really matters is that we have the same father."

He pestered Wop to tell him stories about his other brothers, and from his brothers' stories, Corax came to the conclusion that he was not special.

Neither perfect nor incomplete;

It can't be called the strongest, nor the weakest.

His biggest disadvantage is his similarity to the First Return Son, but this is also his biggest advantage. If he can surpass the First Return Son, his father's attention will fall more on him!

As for who is the first son to return?

In the Emperor's case it was Horus, but in his case it was Curze.

He believed that the other brothers shared his view, that they agreed with Wop's ranking, not the Emperor's.

Koz is just like him. They are not special at first, but Koz is lucky.

Without the title of the First Returning Son, what would he be?

Corax certainly has flaws, but doesn't Curze have any as well?

He didn't believe his brother was perfect.

Aelin waited quietly by his side like a shadow until the last words of conversation faded into the air. He quietly approached Corax and lowered his voice to a whisper, "Will the strike in other districts continue as usual?"

He didn't ask Wop, because Wop had already told them that Corax was the one leading them, and it was no longer his concern.

Corax: "The plan needs to be adjusted slightly. We need to have the other districts express strong resentment about the Eighth District's special treatment, so that the overseers can believe that this is the reason for their strike."

Erin didn't understand, "Why?"

A sneer played on Corax's face. "If all the workers in the district worked together, do you think the supervisors would be able to sleep at night?"

Erin thought so too, "Then I'll go remind them right away."

Corax: "I'll go myself."

……

"Snapped!"

The whip shadows resembled the spitting tongues of a venomous snake, and every lash caused hideous blood to bloom on the overseer's fair skin. This executioner, who had once lived a life of luxury, now curled up on the ground like a maggot, uttering heartbreaking howls.

"An entire district is on strike, and you're telling me you don't have a clue. Are you blind?"

Elena's cold voice was like a poisoned blade, and every syllable made the supervisor feel like he was falling into an abyss.

The overseer prostrated himself on the ground, tears streaming down his face. His voice trembled. "Supervisor, these slaves wouldn't dare to conspire openly in District 8. They must have colluded in the filthy underground tunnels. This is none of my business!"