Chapter 16: Corpse Starch Guild

Zhou Yun stepped into PDF’s headquarters and couldn’t help frowning.

Inside PDF’s headquarters, corpses lay beside the buildings.

They wore the uniforms of the Asford Star Planetary Defense Force, their faces gaunt, bitten, and rotting.

Most of the corpses were missing parts; it was easy to imagine that, after the Viceroy ordered the bombardment of Old District Eight, the PDF soldiers buried under the rubble had resorted to cannibalism.

But Zhou Yun wasn’t concerned with that.

Eating corpses in the hive was not a psychologically burdensome act.

After all, the famous corpse starch contained a portion made from the bodies of the dead.

The Corpse Starch Guilds responsible for producing corpse starch used hearse fleets and mobile factories to collect the dead and turn them into corpse starch.

Many hive residents had consumed this corpse starch.

What truly tightened Zhou Yun’s brow was that these corpses had lain here for at least a hundred years.

Yet they were merely rotted—not reduced to piles of bone.

A flicker of caution arose in Zhou Yun’s mind; he extended a finger toward one of the corpses.

“Bang!!!” He uttered a single syllable.

The corpse’s head exploded like a watermelon struck by a hammer, red, green, and white pus splattering across the wall behind it, forming a twisted painting.

After centuries of decay, these corpses’ heads had turned soft and rotten; even the shockwave from an air pistol could shatter them.

Yet the other nearby corpses remained motionless, as if truly lifeless.

This… wasn’t right.

He frowned again and extended his finger once more.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Three more corpses’ heads exploded, yet none of the others rose as Zhou Yun suspected—none became undead.

He turned his head, glancing at Marquett and Mong behind him.

Marquett gave him a slight nod.

So it was this guy who did something.

Zhou Yun nodded at Marquett, then

Swung his arm; the mechanical hand above him moved, sweeping across the corpses beneath the wall.

One by one, the corpses’ heads were crushed and exploded, leaving streaks of red, green, and white on the wall.

Once all corpses within sight were cleared, Zhou Yun smiled at Marquett, then walked calmly toward the PDF warehouse.

Marquett watched this, unable to help shaking his head and sighing: “So cautious.”

“Is he afraid I’ll awaken these undead?”

“Brother, did he figure out you used the ‘Angel’s’ incantation to put the undead to sleep?” Mong asked quietly.

Mong’s tone held surprise—he seemed unable to fathom how Zhou Yun knew these corpses were undead.

“He understands us well—perhaps better than we understand ourselves,” Marquett said in a low voice.

“Who is he? Lyen Rus—such a clearly fake name,” Mong said, staring at the direction Zhou Yun had left.

Marquett fell silent, recalling the terrified screams of the ‘Angel.’

Most of the time, the ‘Angel’s’ voice was filled with an un fading cheerfulness.

This was the first time he’d heard the ‘Angel’ sound so terrified.

And the information revealed in that terrified scream

“This name might hold some truth.”

Marquett said seriously:

“The ‘Angel’ said his face looked like…”

Mong noticed Marquett’s hesitation—as if weighing whether to speak the name.

“Like who?” Mong pressed.

“The demigod of the First Legion during the Great Crusade ten thousand years ago.”

Marquett took a deep breath and said:

“Lyen El Janssen—his face is nearly identical to Lyen El Janssen’s.”

“But his build is wrong, and his personality doesn’t match.”

“Lyen Rus looks like a Primarch?” Mong gasped at Marquett’s words,

and his mind raced through countless possibilities—each more horrifying than the last.

“Don’t think about this. He didn’t probe our secrets; we won’t probe his.”

“Finding the relic’s trail is what matters most.”

Marquett shook his head, scanning the surroundings, his gaze settling on the PDF headquarters office.

He patted Mong’s shoulder, and they walked toward the building together.

The Empire used many media to store information, the most common being parchment and data plates.

Important, valuable information was stored on more reliable, secure parchment.

The rest was stored on data plates.

Mong sifted through the data plates in his hands, searching for the information they needed.

Marquett sorted through the parchments.

“Found it,” Marquett said, pointing to a parchment.

Covered in dense rows of Low Gothic letters.

It was PDF’s detailed record of the plague from that era.

It clearly documented the plague conditions in Old District Eight.

Marquett waved to Mong: “Find me a data plate with a map of Old District Eight.”

Mong pulled out one from the pile he’d just found,

having specifically chosen it because he’d promised Zhou Yun he’d help locate the map.

Marquett studied the map of Old District Eight on the data plate, marking with his finger the locations where the plague had first appeared.

The points he marked formed a patch—sparse on the edges, dense in the center.

Staring at the marked map, Marquett fell into thought.

“The plague spread across half of Old District Eight; this half is likely the origin.”

“According to PDF’s records, the earliest outbreaks occurred here…”

Marquett stared at the densest cluster of points—the epicenter of the plague’s initial spread.

He extended his finger, connecting the earliest outbreak locations into an irregular circle.

His gaze fell on the building within the circle—and quickly identified a suspicious target.

“Corpse Starch Guild.”

Marquett pointed to the Corpse Starch Guild’s location.

The Corpse Starch Guild lay almost exactly at the center of the earliest plague outbreak sites.

“It seems that over a century ago, the Corpse Starch Guild spread the plague, channeling the power of the garden where the ‘Angels’ resided into the material universe.”

“According to the ‘Angels,’ that power was infused into an ancient artifact.”

“But before the artifact could be completed, the Viceroy, sensing what was happening, bombarded Old District Eight, burying everything beneath the rubble.”

Marquett’s voice carried a hint of excitement.

“But the nearly completed artifact is likely still inside the Corpse Starch Guild!”

“If we find that artifact and retrieve the warp engine from the Underhive, we can save all of Asford.”

Not all hives developed monopolistic Corpse Starch Guilds.

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(End of Chapter)