Chapter 6: How About I Get You Five Hundred Terminators?

“Zhou Yun brother, why did you hit me?”

Luo Ge wrinkled his face, so ugly it made Zhou Yun lose his appetite for wine, and spoke with a look of grievance.

Blood trickled from the creases of his wrinkles.

Seeing the human blood flowing from Luo Ge’s face and his bewildered expression, Zhou Yun shook his head.

It seemed this old bastard had nothing to do with Gene Thieves.

He’d just sold him a location in the abandoned district that happened to be a Gene Thief activity zone.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yun couldn’t hold back and punched him in the face again.

Luo Ge wrinkled his ugly face, putting on a pitiful expression, wiped the blood from his face with his hand, and sat calmly back at the bar as if nothing had happened.

“Two bowls of wine, and a plate of synthesized protein blocks.”

The old one-eyed man glanced at him, pulled out a black lump of protein from behind the counter, and tossed it onto Luo Ge’s table.

“Zhou Yun brother, this synthesized protein block has four ways to prepare it—do you know?” Luo Ge grinned.

“The character ‘hui’ has four ways to write it—do you know?” Zhou Yun asked, sipping his wine.

“I don’t know how to write even one.”

Luo Ge picked up the protein block and shoved it into his mouth; the sticky mass moved back and forth between his coarse teeth.

“But I know your chance to get rich is coming soon.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yun’s eyebrows twitched slightly: “Rich? Does your boss have a job for me?”

“Big job,” Luo Ge chuckled, lifting the crimson wine in his cup and draining it.

He swallowed the wine in one gulp, smacking his lips.

“Old One-Eye’s skill is even better—Ama-sek wine can’t compare!”

“What nonsense are you spouting? Have you even drunk Ama-sek?” Old One-Eye shot him a look of disdain.

“I’ll drink it someday,” Luo Ge chuckled, then turned to Zhou Yun: “Boss needs a batch of weapons.”

“Fine. What type?”

Zhou Yun had long exchanged for the item “Omnirift,” which allowed him to move freely between walls, traversing buried ancient abandoned districts.

Paired with his nearly infinite-capacity fourth-dimensional pocket, he’d retrieved countless weapons and machines buried within.

These weapons were in highest demand among gangs, and the ones Zhou Yun dug up were manufactured in ancient times, far superior to the crude local gear.

Over time, Zhou Yun built a modest reputation among the gangs of the Lower Nest.

“Boss wants two hundred Agrippina-3 infantry automatic rifles,” Luo Ge grinned.

“Alright.”

Zhou Yun paused, stunned for a moment, then nodded seriously:

“How about I get you five hundred Iron Steed-class Terminator power armors instead?”

“You can get those?” Luo Ge’s mouth dropped open in shock as he stared at Zhou Yun.

From his eyes, Zhou Yun understood—he had no idea what he was talking about, he just thought it sounded impressive.

“Not just that—I can get you the power lances used by Archangels too,” Zhou Yun said with sincere expression.

“...Brother, are you joking?” Luo Ge blinked.

“You know I’m joking?” Zhou Yun rubbed his brow.

The Agrippina-3 infantry automatic rifle was manufactured on the famed forge-world of Agrippina.

Even Astartes or Imperial Guard didn’t hold it in high regard—it was mainly used by second- and third-rate planetary defense forces.

But planetary defense forces weren’t something gangs from the Lower Nest’s sewers could even dream of touching.

Would a gang even be able to use such high-end gear?

“Two hundred rifles—you planning to storm the Upper Nest and plead your case to our Viceroy?”

Zhou Yun shook his head:

“Just get some local rifles. If you want these, you’ll have to raid a PDF warehouse.”

“You’re absolutely right—it’s a PDF warehouse,” Luo Ge grinned.

At this, not only did Zhou Yun’s eye twitch, but even Old One-Eye, drinking behind the bar, nearly spat out his wine.

Raiding a PDF warehouse—this wasn’t just about bravery.

This was digging under the Viceroy’s throne and shitting in front of the Fawu Force.

Even if the Viceroy ignored everything else, he could never overlook this.

“Wait,” Old One-Eye looked up at Luo Ge: “Did you find out about Old District Eight?”

“Old District Eight?” Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow—he remembered Old One-Eye mentioning it earlier.

“Old District Eight was an old district in the Upper Nest, over a hundred years ago. A plague broke out there, killing many.”

“The Viceroy at the time feared the plague spreading to the Spire, so he nuked the entire district.”

“Old District Eight fell from the Upper Nest into the depths of the Lower Nest.”

Old One-Eye shook his head:

“Along with the sick, the residents, and the PDF troops sent to suppress the riots—all were buried beneath.”

“Logically, there should still be a PDF garrison down there. Yes—our planet’s PDF was equipped with Agrippina-3 infantry automatic rifles.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yun frowned:

“You want me to dig those weapons out of Old District Eight for you?”

“Ah, so that’s your plan. But the plague—”

His mind flashed with words: crucible, garden, virus, the Father.

And the district was even called Old District Eight... Huh.

“A hundred years have passed—everyone’s dead. Where’s the plague?” Luo Ge waved his hand.

“The scavenger who found the entrance to Old District Eight is still alive. Others have gone in and returned.”

“Of course there’s some risk, but Boss is paying well for this job, Old Zhou.”

As he spoke, Luo Ge held up his finger to show Zhou Yun a number.

Hearing this, Zhou Yun hesitated slightly.

In his memory, Asford and the Mingfuxingxi had suffered infestations of Tyranids, Orks, and Necrons.

But had they ever suffered an Eldar incursion? Perhaps Old District Eight truly had nothing to do with the deity stirring the crucible in the Warp?

Moreover, Luo Ge’s gang only wanted two hundred rifles, but a PDF garrison likely held far more weapons.

These could be exchanged for currency in his fourth-dimensional pocket, and after the gang paid him, he could even trade them for supplies and sell them back to the pocket.

The sneaky scavengers he’d met in the abandoned district, the expanding Ark Gang, and the white figure claiming to be “Saint Guilliman” had all warned that the Hive Fleet was coming.

Zhou Yun needed to get the Omnirift up and running soon.

Thinking this, Zhou Yun nodded slightly: “I’ll take the job.”

Upon hearing this, not only did Luo Ge’s face brighten, but even Old One-Eye’s single eye gleamed with delight.

Old One-Eye waved his hand at Luo Ge: “Luo Ge, get out of here. I need to speak with Zhou Yun.”

“Huh? Fine.” Luo Ge picked up his plate of protein blocks and crimson wine, and slunk to a corner of the bar.

“I’ve got a job for you,” Old One-Eye said to Zhou Yun.

“Why does everyone have a job for me?” Zhou Yun couldn’t help but say.

“The capable bear more labor—the Emperor taught us to be diligent.”

Old One-Eye grinned, fixing Zhou Yun with a stare:

“Do you know Ignis Karcas?”

“Of course—he was a poet of the Great Crusade, a chronicler attached to the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet,” Zhou Yun replied immediately.

Old One-Eye nodded: “You wouldn’t know either—it’s only the Upper Nest’s lords who—”

“...Wait, you do know?”

(End of Chapter)