Chapter 18: Mutants

Parting with Ryan Ruth, I really feel a bit reluctant.

Mengge walked down the street, unable to help but sigh:

“He is truly a genuine heretic—even more heretical than we are.”

“He doesn’t believe in the Emperor, and he doesn’t believe in any other gods either—how can such a heretic exist in this world?”

“He is indeed terrifying; his mannerisms are as horrifying as his face.”

“His mouth is equally infuriating—if I were a priest of the Imperial Cult, I’d have burned him on the pyre the moment he spoke his first word.”

“But he is, without doubt, a reliable good man.” Marqit finished the sentence for Mengge.

“Not just reliable,” Mengge grabbed Marqit’s arm and said: “Brother, have you seen his capabilities?”

“He used only a golden ring to lead us through a mountain of rubble.”

“He somehow emptied an entire warehouse of weapons in one go.”

“He can help us—he can help us find what we’re looking for.”

Mengge’s tone grew urgent, but Marqit hesitated slightly.

“What we’re looking for is right before us,” Marqit said, gazing at the Corpse Guild nearby.

This building, a branch of the Corpse Guild, was the tallest in the vicinity, yet it wastefully divided itself into only three floors.

In the hive, people die every moment; their souls return to the Golden Throne, their bodies to the Corpse Guild, to be recycled.

Turned into corpse starch or recycled nutrient paste.

Their work is vital to the hive,

For it is the Corpse Guild’s corpse recovery that suppresses plague and disease, and keeps the hive from starving.

They are the monopolists of the Pale Cause, wealthy yet regarded by hive dwellers as cursed.

But at least the former Corpse Guild always maintained faith in the Emperor.

According to the data panel information Marqit had accessed from the PDF outpost,

the original Corpse Guild’s grounds should have been filled with unmutated human skulls, symbols of purity,

while angelic statues stood in the courtyard, holding spears to guard the entrance,

and the walls were carved with the double-headed eagle of the Empire, the Mark of Purity, and sacred prayers from the Litany of the Saint.

But now, those pure human skulls had been smashed into dust; grotesque, mutated skulls—clearly deformed—were placed across the entrance, staring fixedly at the approaching Mengge and Marqit.

The double-headed eagles, purity marks, and liturgical inscriptions on the walls had been defaced with filth, transformed into chains of blasphemous, alien runes.

The only survivor was the statue of Saint Guilliman beneath the portico,

but around it, pus had been traced into a three-ring symbol,

and from Marqit’s viewpoint, it looked like a giant fly circling the statue of Saint Guilliman,

yet Marqit knew that the three-ring symbol represented the perfect cycle of death, decay, and rebirth.

Yes, we shall all die, and through death we are granted corruption, and from corruption we are reborn.

Marqit thought to himself, closing his eyes in devout reverence:

“What we seek lies right before us, Mengge.”

“No,” Mengge shook his head. “What’s inside is only the key—we still need to find the door.”

“We’ll find it, Mengge. Be patient,” Marqit whispered, stepping toward the Corpse Guild’s entrance.

“Wait,” Mengge called out to Marqit.

“Before you go in, take off that hood,” Mengge said. “It’s hanging on my horns—it’s been uncomfortable all the way.”

Marqit nodded approvingly; now there was no need to worry about exposing their identity and drawing hatred or rejection.

Saying this, Marqit and Mengge reached up, revealing the faces beneath their wide hoods—and the horns growing from their heads.

Marqit’s face was gaunt and purple, his hair thin and gray; from his left temple, forehead, and cheeks extended thick, brownish-yellow, monstrous horns—bestial, demonic.

Mengge’s horns were even more grotesque; he had almost no hair, only jagged black horns erupting across his skull and face, encircling his nearly bestial features.

They were mutants—monsters dwelling in the hive’s sewers, human variants rejected by the Empire, impure beings.

Their human gene spirals had been corrupted by toxic radiation, or by long-term accumulation of unclean food toxins, or by Chaos corruption into monstrous forms.

The city never took them in; the Empire never allowed them; the Emperor never blessed them. They were the objects of hatred and rejection by billions of the Empire’s citizens.

Most mutants spend their entire lives in the hive’s gutters, finding solace only in the most venomous curses against the Empire.

But some mutants choose a more direct way to curse the Empire—using the power of the Chaos Gods from the Warp.

Zhou Yun stood atop a nearby rooftop, watching Mengge and Marqit remove their hoods and chant a seven-syllable incantation as they entered the Corpse Guild.

Indeed, their target was also the Corpse Guild.

Zhou Yun felt momentarily stunned.

After noticing that Mengge and Marqit’s direction aligned closely with his own, and that the Corpse Guild was the only significant structure along that path, Zhou Yun had formed this suspicion.

So he used his teleportation ability granted by the Superpower Hat to arrive at the Corpse Guild’s entrance ahead of Mengge and Marqit.

Seeing the Corpse Guild’s blasphemous, Nurgle-inspired decor, Zhou Yun knew he was right.

Mengge and Marqit’s target was the Corpse Guild—and the Guild clearly harbored some Warp power.

Zhou Yun acted on instinct, crouching atop a nearby rooftop, waiting for Mengge and Marqit to clear the way for him.

Unexpectedly, he learned their true identities: two mutants.

Speaking of mutants,

the Empire classifies mutation levels into four tiers:

Massive skull deformities, slight height anomalies, missing limbs, excessive talkativeness, and unusual hair color count as minor mutations.

Each counts as one point.

Extra limbs, severe height anomalies, scales, feathers, or animal fur growing on the skin, disrespect toward superiors, and glowing skin count as moderate mutations.

Each counts as three points.

Toxic body, one to three appendages, abnormal eye placement or non-standard eye count, bestial traits count as severe mutations.

Each counts as ten points.

More than three appendages, localized Warp anomalies, multiple skulls, aggressive limbs, questioning the necessity of inspections count as extreme mutations.

Each counts as fifty points.

Mengge and Marqit exhibit scales or animal fur on skin, toxic body, bestial traits, and aggressive limbs—four mutations: one moderate, two severe, one extreme—total score: 73 points.

One to nine points is normal; ten or more means you sit at the same table as the Ogrun; fifty or more is usually burned on the spot.

Mengge and Marqit rank as mid-tier mutants among those the Empire must purge.

And.

Zhou Yun couldn’t help but glance at the winged figure in the corner of his vision.

The winged figure in Bai Guang: “?”

I updated a bit early today because yesterday’s read-through was just shy of two hundred; updating early today will push it over and get me on the trial list.

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(End of Chapter)