Chapter 27: The Godwalks Among Us

The one-eyed old man walked out from the room behind the tavern.

Only Zhou Yun and the sleeping Lag remained.

Zhou Yun glanced at Lag, who was snoring loudly, and did not rush to act; instead, he began observing the room.

This was clearly the one-eyed old man’s usual living space, filled with traces of his presence.

The room was spotlessly clean: dishes and chopsticks washed and placed in the recycling sink, a few garments neatly arranged in the wardrobe, the bed made perfectly.

The first impression this room gave Zhou Yun was tidiness—tidy as if trained.

It was hard to imagine anyone in the Underhive wasting time organizing clothes and rooms.

Zhou Yun turned his gaze to the only table in the one-eyed old man’s room.

On the table lay a data slate, its back connected to the wall by several cables, its destination unknown.

Zhou Yun stepped to the table and gently reached out to activate the data slate.

A prompt appeared, requesting a keycode.

The tidy room, signs of professional training, the keycode-locked data slate.

This old bastard has more secrets than I thought.

Zhou Yun rubbed his chin.

Had the one-eyed old man’s remaining eye been purple instead of black,

he might have suspected the old man was a Cadia Shock Trooper stationed in the nearby star system.

Zhou Yun set down the data slate and turned to look at Lag, lying on the bed.

“Do you think the Ark Sect’s leader is an illegal psyker or a gene-thief?” asked the winged figure within Bai Guang.

Zhou Yun lowered his head slightly.

“Their methods resemble gene-thieves, yet they sent Lag to invite me to meet their leader.”

“Aren’t they worried I’ll run? I can’t make sense of it. I really can’t.”

Zhou Yun pulled out Body Clay from his fourth-dimensional pocket and placed it on the floor.

“So I plan to go and see for myself.”

Even if I must flee to the Underhive, I need to confirm whether the Ark Sect is just a front for the gene-thieves.

If the chance arises, assassinating the Ark Sect’s suspected gene-thief leader would be even better.

Thinking this, Zhou Yun took the Body Clay from the one-meter-wide jar and began pressing it slowly onto his face.

His fingers moved swiftly, and soon molded Lag’s gray, ugly face.

He then smeared more clay over his body, making his skin as wrinkled and rough as Lag’s.

Finally, he pulled off Lag’s linen robe and draped it over himself.

In an instant, Zhou Yun’s appearance matched Lag’s almost perfectly—except he was slightly taller.

But.

“Cough, cough,” Zhou Yun cleared his throat.

His voice was vastly different from Lag’s coarse, grating tone.

Fortunately, Zhou Yun remembered one item that could mimic another’s voice.

He turned his gaze to his fourth-dimensional pocket and opened the Future Department Store.

[Item Name: Voice Candy Maker]

[Origin: 22nd Century Earth—Future Department Store]

[Production Date: 257.M2]

[Function: A device with a microphone that records a person’s voice, stores its vocal signature, and produces Voice Candies; consuming one makes the eater’s voice identical to the original.]

[Price: 50,000]

This item’s function was modest—only voice mimicry—and its price of fifty thousand was far cheaper than Body Clay.

But combined with Body Clay, it allowed Zhou Yun to perfectly impersonate another’s voice and appearance for thirty minutes—extremely useful.

Zhou Yun purchased the Voice Candy Maker and pressed it against Lag’s mouth as he mumbled in his sleep.

“Amasek wine—strong! Nine out of ten strong!”

The Voice Candy Maker recorded Lag’s drunken mutterings.

Moments later, a pale gold candy emerged and fell into Zhou Yun’s palm.

Zhou Yun did not eat it immediately; instead, he slipped the voice-saturated candy into the inner pocket of the robe.

The candy’s effect lasted only thirty minutes—he’d wait until reaching the Ark Sect’s stronghold to consume it.

Then Zhou Yun pulled out the Pocket Tornado from his fourth-dimensional pocket and hung it inside the robe.

Once he confirmed all preparations were complete, he pushed open the tavern’s back door and stepped into the hive’s streets.

Minutes later, the one-eyed old man entered the room.

He found Zhou Yun gone and Lag still snoring on the bed.

The sedative he’d given Lag came from two cultists in the Underhive,

and was extremely potent—any normal person would sleep for at least half the afternoon.

Yet the one-eyed old man still knelt down to confirm Lag was truly unconscious.

“You old bastard,” the one-eyed old man muttered, shaking his head, then walked to the table.

He noticed the data slate had been moved—clearly Zhou Yun had viewed it.

But the one-eyed old man was not concerned.

He had left Zhou Yun alone in this room precisely because he wasn’t afraid of him discovering his secrets.

The device had complex keycode encryption and stored no actual data.

Its sole purpose was to connect the one-eyed old man to the Upper Hive.

If Zhou Yun didn’t know the keycode or the access phrase,

the data slate was nothing more than a glowing brick.

The one-eyed old man entered the keycode, unlocked the screen, and entered the communication interface.

He sent a message to the Upper Hive—the very top of the hive.

“Phrase,” came a low, dry voice from the data slate.

“‘Swarm,’ ‘Angel,’ ‘Brother,’ ‘Double Star.’”

The one-eyed old man uttered the phrase in clipped High Gothic,

an ancient, solemn language impossible to pronounce accurately without training:

“.‘Mutant,’ ‘Parasite,’ ‘Fate,’ and ‘Viceroy.’”

The other side fell silent for a moment, then the low, dry voice asked again:

“Tell me, how many arms does the Benevolent Emperor have?”

“The Benevolent Emperor has two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs,” the one-eyed old man replied in a low tone.

“Tell me, where is our only salvation?” the low, dry voice asked again.

“Only death—dying for the Emperor, soul returned to the Golden Throne,” the one-eyed old man answered.

“Recite the first two lines of the Holy Codex, swearing to the Emperor you are pure, untainted by gene-pollution,” the low, dry voice said.

The one-eyed old man bowed his head in reverence.

He was not troubled by the ritual’s complexity—he understood why his master was so cautious.

He whispered:

“Rejoice, for I bring you the glorious gospel.”

“The Godwalks Among Us.”

These were the first two lines of the Holy Codex; the one-eyed old man continued:

“I swear before the Emperor that I remain pure, untainted by gene-pollution or corruption, a true human.”

The other side of the data slate fell silent. The one-eyed old man murmured:

“I did not find the notebook of Ignis Kalkas.”

(End of Chapter)