Chapter 96: Finding the Staff (Still a Double-Chapter)

“Judge? Oh, the one on Luxi?”

“Could the Viceroy be using him to target me?”

At the Ark Gang’s stronghold, in a conference room,

seated at the four corners of a square table were Leina, Dichi, Old One-Eye, and Zhou Yun.

Though Old One-Eye had once served the Viceroy and still maintained contact with him,

Zhou Yun trusted him and knew Old One-Eye had long since abandoned loyalty to the Viceroy,

and now acted mostly to atone for his past mistake of letting the Netherworms escape, making him an enemy of the Gene-Thieves.

In this regard, Zhou Yun and Old One-Eye shared the same foe, and Zhou Yun needed Old One-Eye to train Ark Gang members.

Just moments ago, Old One-Eye had reminded Zhou Yun that a Judge resided on the neighboring planet Luxi, possibly being used by the Viceroy against them.

Judge. Most Imperial citizens harbored an almost instinctive fear of Judges,

every Imperial resident could recount a hundred terrifying tales of Judges, yet none dared speak of them in public.

Leina, this illegal psyker from the Lower Nest who ran a cult, couldn’t help shuddering: “A Judge? Zhou Yun, are we really going to get burned alive with white phosphorus?”

Seeing Leina’s anxious expression, Zhou Yun couldn’t help shaking his head: “Don’t panic. I know who that Judge is—he’s probably more interested in catching a big fish right now. No, not metaphorical—he’s literally fishing for a giant.”

That Judge belonged to the Exterminatus Order, whose primary mission was breeding—no, eradicating xenos,

and in the tidal seas of Luxi lived a colossal aquatic xenos known locally as the “Salt Goddess.”

According to Zhou Yun’s knowledge, that xenos might be a specialized Tyranid hive bioform,

a monstrous creature of terrifying size, armed with tentacles, possessing considerable intelligence and psychic power, and worshipped by the schemers of Luxi,

though no one knew how the Tyranids had delivered this creature to Luxi.

And that Judge, Damian Ulrich, was attempting to lure it out,

so he likely had no interest in Zhou Yun for now.

Even if a Judge truly intended to investigate the Nether System’s problems,

aside from the Titan-sized beast on Luxi, the Viceroy of Luxi was suspected of directly defecting to the Gene-Thieves; on nearby Pertita, a group of infected Skitarii and a shard of the Burner’s Star-God lingered; deep in the system, on Tartarus, lay an alien artifact—the “Starflame”—capable of destroying the entire system.

“We’ve got so many problems in the Nether System, even one Judge can’t handle them all. This Damian Ulrich is green, only brought a squad of Storm Loyalists—he can’t manage it.”

“Really?” Leina asked, voice trembling: “He won’t drop an Exterminatus on us, will he?”

Leina had clearly heard too many horror stories about Judges circulating in the Lower Nest,

and in the eyes of Imperial citizens, most Judges were lunatics ready to unleash Exterminatus at any moment.

But even lunatics ready to drop Exterminatus must consider the stakes in the Nether System.

“This is the Nether System.”

Zhou Yun emphasized the words “Nether” as he spoke:

“The Nether System is the gate to Baal, the most vital fortress protecting Baal—and Baal is the homeworld of the Blood Angels.”

“Dropping an Exterminatus on the Nether System is no different from shitting on the Blood Angels’ faces. Why doesn’t he just orbital-bomb Baal directly?”

Without the Nether System, Baal’s defenses would be wide open, losing a critical fortress system.

Theoretically, a Judge’s authority was nearly limitless—but the Empire always had powerful figures who could ignore Judges, even threaten them in return,

like the Imperial Guard, the Space Wolves, the Dark Angels.

And the Blood Angels, fellow First Founding Chapters, as loyal as cats and dogs.

When wolves are cornered, they bite; when angels are enraged, they turn Judges into Horus wearing rose-bedecked robes.

Over ten thousand years ago, before Sanguinius returned, the warriors of the Ninth Legion were known as the Ghouls.

Even now, the Blood Angels’ successor chapters harbor many lunatics—these fanatics wouldn’t hesitate to kill Judges, or even Guilliman himself.

Zhou Yun mentally cursed under his breath.

If Augustus Flax had truly summoned a Judge, it was a disastrous move.

Killing him now would be too easy—Zhou Yun still needed to squeeze every last ounce of utility from him.

Without him supplying resources from the Upper Nest, how could the Masters of the Lower Nest fight the Gene-Thieves?

When the Leviathan Hive arrives,

Zhou Yun planned to use Augustus Flax as bait.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yun turned to Leina beside him and asked: “How’s the war against the Gene-Thieves going?”

Hearing this, Leina’s brief moment of relief vanished, her expression darkening instantly.

“It… looks good,” Leina said bitterly. “The first batch of weapons has been delivered; our people are armed.”

“When we launched our offensive, the Gene-Thieves immediately began retreating, inch by inch, spitting out the territories they’d swallowed.”

“Not defeated—they’re deliberately pulling back their lines,” said the winged figure within Bai Guang, shaking its head.

Zhou Yun’s lips twitched slightly; he suspected the Gene-Thieves’ motive.

“They didn’t strip every usable resource before leaving, did they? Left you nothing but barren wasteland?”

Leina’s bitterness deepened: “Yes. And as their lines tighten, their undamaged forces grow denser, while we’re forced to pour manpower into occupying worthless land, fearing they’ll emerge from anywhere at any moment.”

“And when we retreat, they surge forward instantly, filling the gaps we abandon—over and over, endlessly.”

Faced with this cunning tactic,

Leina felt as if she’d punched cotton—only to find a nest of nails hidden inside.

No matter how powerful the punch, it always ended in blood and broken bones.

“A masterful tactic,” said Old One-Eye, frowning as he trained the Ark Gang soldiers.

Aside from Zhou Yun and the winged figure in Bai Guang, Old One-Eye was the most military-savvy person present.

He saw instantly the tactic’s brilliance:

using minimal force to drain the Ark Gang’s maximum strength; through endless stalemate and attrition, the Ark Gang would inevitably collapse.

“I need stronger soldiers. How long until the first batch is trained?” Leina asked Old One-Eye.

“Training takes time. Even if I’m desperate… I still have to teach those idiots to close one eye when aiming?” Old One-Eye sighed helplessly.

Leina couldn’t help sighing.

The Ark Gang was now trapped in this endless push-pull game with the Gene-Thieves.

“I have an idea. Would you care to hear it?”

Zhou Yun suddenly spoke.

Leina, Old One-Eye, and Dichi all turned to Zhou Yun at once.

Especially Leina, who stared at him with a strange expression:

“Do we want to hear it?”

“Dichi and her Death-Worshippers—you brought them.”

“The Ark Gang—you’re part of it too.”

“Old One-Eye—you introduced him.”

“Is it possible… that you’re the one actually running this place?”

Zhou Yun smiled faintly, then looked at the three before him: “I don’t understand military strategy.”

“But I understand schemers. Schemer forces are all commanded by a single leader.”

“That leader shares a psychic link with the entire Schemer cult, directing his troops as easily as moving his own limbs.”

“He is the soul, the brain, the entire nervous system of the Schemer force.”

"But he must have many troops protecting him," said Old One-Eye, frowning.

“But surely he’s surrounded by heavy protection,” Old One-Eye frowned.

Leina nodded in agreement: “Not just that—he’s probably hidden very deep.”

“As long as we find him, death will take him,” Dichi whispered.

Her voice was icy enough to make Leina and Old One-Eye shiver slightly.

“I’ll send our assassins to find him—but it will take time,” Dichi said.

“We’ll try to hold them off as long as possible,” Leina rubbed her temples.

“No need to be so complicated.”

Zhou Yun chuckled, shook his head,

reached into his fourth-dimensional pocket at his waist,

“Ding-ding-ding-ding.”

Dichi and Old One-Eye stared with curiosity; Leina looked unsurprised.

Zhou Yun slowly pulled out a walking stick.

Sibyl sat inside the cabin of an Asford heavy truck, eyes closed before the virtual battlefield.

The battlefield was merely an aid—his true war unfolded within his mind,

every brother of every race’s mind clear as day, every hybrid cultist’s eye a surveillance lens,

allowing him to see every detail of the battlefield, transmitting every order directly to each warrior’s hand.

His soldiers moved like tentacles, gently, slowly lapping at the entire Lower Nest—each assault seemed non-lethal, yet over time, all of Asford would be drawn into the rebellion he ignited,

until the Song of Leviathan rose, and the Four-Armed Emperor of the Stars embraced them.

Of course, the premise is that Sibyl could ensure his own survival and avoid being killed

otherwise, the Gene-Thieves’ warriors would descend from unstoppable killing machines into mutated, foolish thugs.

To protect himself, Sibyl stole this heavy truck manufactured by Asford,

this heavy vehicle was a key military export of Asford, its technology said to originate from Necromunda,

It not only had this extremely heavy armor and two twin-linked autocannons, but also moved at incredible speed, equipped with some kind of signal jamming device.

This allowed Scipio to ride the heavy motorcycle like a ghost, making erratic, unpredictable movements that nearly no one could track.

Around the armored vehicle, Scipio had stationed a group of motorcyclists to patrol constantly.

The Saint Judges also hid within the surrounding buildings; their bullets were sufficient to kill any attacker.

But the chieftain still felt uneasy, and to ensure Scipio’s safety, it even dispatched a group—

Enemy! Danger!

Scipio’s pupils shrank sharply, and its psychic link with the chieftain sent out a warning.

In the warning, Scipio saw a shadow holding a stiletto piercing straight through its chest.

Scipio spun around hastily, looking behind.

A shadow had already closed to less than half a meter away.

The cold stiletto was about to plunge into its throat.

Assassin!

How did she find my truck? How did she slip in so silently?

Whether the Saint Judges in nearby buildings, or—

Scipio quickly raised its biological bone sword to block—

“Aaaaaaah!!!”

Scipio let out a cry of agony; the cold stiletto effortlessly slipped past its bone sword and drove straight into Scipio’s eyeball.

Fortunately, at the last moment, four icy purple arms snatched the stiletto, preventing it from piercing Scipio’s brain.

It’s a pure-blood Gene Thief!

This was an atavist born after five generations of hybridization, the creature closest to the Gene Thief chieftain’s genetic sequence; each possessed the potential to initiate a new infection—and even become a new chieftain.

Hidden in the shadows, it was among the most terrifying and dangerous lifeforms in the entire galaxy.

Five pure-blood Gene Thieves emerged silently from the shadows, crevices, and cargo compartment of the heavy truck, surrounding the assassin who dared strike Scipio.

Scipio’s lips curled into a smile.

Though it had lost one eye, eliminating such a skilled assassin was worth it.

The pure-blood Gene Thieves moved swiftly, their four sharp claws lashing out at the black-clad assassin like a thorned net.

Yet the assassin was faster!

To Scipio’s stunned gaze, the two pure-blood Gene Thieves nearest to the assassin were pierced through the skull in the blink of an eye, their heads slashed with grotesque wounds.

She shifted slightly, using the opening left by the two dying Gene Thieves to break free from the encirclement and charge toward Scipio.

Fortunately, the pure-blood Gene Thieves were fast enough—they quickly re-engaged Leina, buying Scipio a little time.

Faster than the pure-blood Gene Thieves!!

Scipio’s eyes widened in shock; it instantly realized these five pure-blood Gene Thieves could not hold the assassin for long.

He must abandon the vehicle and flee immediately!

Scipio made his decision at once, dashing without hesitation toward the nearest door.

Then he saw the black-clad assassin’s gaze lock onto him.

“Doraemon greets you.”

The assassin revealed a brown gourd hanging at her waist beneath the black leather suit.

She pulled the stopper from the gourd; a howling hurricane erupted violently inside the truck.

Zhou Yun stood atop a nearby building, the Dead-Worshiping female assassin beside him killing the hidden Saint Judges.

He watched silently as the heavy truck rolled down the road, gripping a slender staff with a red shaft and silver head.

The staff glowed with a faint radiance.

[Item Name: Seeker Staff]

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

[Manufactured: 271.m3]

[Function: A staff-shaped item; when held upright and released to fall naturally, it points toward the person you seek, though accuracy is only 70%]

[Value: 880,000]

This was an item priced at 880,000, yet at first glance seemed unimpressive.

Its greatest function was locating and tracking people.

A sharp storm erupted violently from the heavy truck; the gale instantly warped the vehicle slightly, then transformed into a tornado that swallowed nearly a quarter of the block in an instant.

Dichi had successfully unleashed the Pocket Tornado; the next step was—

Zhou Yun’s fingers released slightly; the Seeker Staff fell to the ground, pointing in one direction.

These past two days I’ve been outside, mostly on the truck; I started writing after getting home tonight, and I’ll make up the two missed chapters tomorrow or the day after.

(End of Chapter)