Chapter 17: The Difference Between Trash and Trash

【Navigator: Alvin】

【Race: Human】

【Faction: Human Empire】

【Profession: Scavenger】

【Anchor World: None】

【Remaining Energy: 0 Units】

【Remaining Source Power: 0 Units】

【Current Status: Retrieving Possible Anchor Worlds】

When Alvin opened his eyes again, thick industrial fumes filled the air, reeking of rot and stinging straight to his crown.

After a brief spell of dizziness, Alvin coughed violently, feeling searing pain from his throat all the way to his lungs—he couldn’t help but grimace: “It’s easy to go from frugality to luxury, hard to go the other way.”

In just ten days, this body had already grown unaccustomed to the slum’s harsh environment.

Once he’d slightly adjusted to the side effects of the environmental shift, Alvin finally had a chance to look around—it was much the same as before, hardly any noticeable change.

Of course, it might also be that the slum was so vile, and he lived right in the exhaust zone, making any change impossible to detect.

“I wonder how much time has passed in the main universe during this jump.”

As Alvin pondered, he looked down at his clenched right hand—a vial of brilliant blue serum lay quietly in his palm. He exhaled in relief: “Once the temporary No.5 compound wears off, I’ll inject the permanent No.5 compound. Can’t afford any mistakes.”

Before injecting the permanent No.5 compound, he planned to stay put inside his “doghole,” nowhere else.

After all, who knew what dangers lurked outside in a slum with cult traces?

Alvin’s life creed was simple: never take risks.

Second, he’d use the time to sort through his gains from this jump: besides the permanent No.5 compound, he still had one vial of temporary No.5 compound and a few gold bars.

Alvin weighed the roughly ten grams of gold bars in his hand, troubled: “I hope this stuff is still useful.”

By all rights, gold was a highly valuable metal, generally accepted as currency across human society.

But in the Warhammer universe, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

The Human Empire spanned vast territories, nearly covering the entire galaxy, with planetary holdings numbering in the astronomical—no matter how rare gold was, it shouldn’t be scarce.

Yet given the Black Robe Inquisitors’ technological level, he couldn’t imagine anything else that could serve as a bribe.

As for items from the 20K era, Alvin had considered them—but the risk was too great!

Whether weapons, food, or industrial goods, exposure would lead to unthinkable consequences—who knew what unknown entities from the Warp might take notice?

So Alvin narrowed his options repeatedly, ultimately settling on gold—a metal that, while rare, wouldn’t trigger any risks.

“In the end, I’m still too weak...”

Alvin sighed lightly. If he were a Planetary Governor or born into nobility, he wouldn’t have to worry about these things.

The old saying holds true: an innocent man suffers for possessing something valuable.

A powerless slum scavenger could be crushed effortlessly—before gaining sufficient power, he could never reveal the existence of the Navigator System!

Suddenly.

The crude shack, welded from sheet metal, was kicked down from outside!

In Alvin’s stunned moment, he recognized a familiar face—the diagonal scar slashed across his brow and lips, his entire face twisted in rage—it was a scum of the Blood Axe Gang!

Damn, they actually came looking for him!

What’s this? Heaven has a path, yet you refuse to walk it; Hell has no door, yet you charge right in!

Staring blankly at Alvin, the scarred giant grinned savagely, convinced the boy was too terrified to move: “You little brat, you’re good at hiding—made me hunt you for ten whole days!”

“Ten... ten days?”

Alvin froze slightly—so the time ratio between the two worlds was 1:1.

“Because of you, little brat, I lost face!”

The scarred giant gnashed his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes dark and cruel as if he meant to devour Alvin alive: “I’ll chop you into pieces—one slice at a time!”

As he spoke, he drew his blade—drenched in countless bloods, its surface black-brown, the edge chipped and broken.

“Little brat, scream your lungs out! Cry! Regret!”

The scarred giant loomed above, swinging his blade with a raised arm, his eyes gleaming with cruelty.

His face flushed crimson, black veins grotesquely swollen—he craved blood, even imagined already the little brat’s shrieks, his tears, his terrified wails as he begged and screamed in agony before dying.

CLANG!

The sound of metal striking metal rang out!

The chipped blade struck Alvin’s shoulder—but no blood sprayed, no screams followed.

It was like hitting solid steel—the force traveled up the blade, jolting the scarred giant’s grip so violently his hand trembled, the knife nearly flying from his grasp.

Just moments ago, his mind had been lost in the euphoria of his slaughter fantasy—but now he was yanked back to reality.

He stared, dumbfounded, eyes wide with disbelief: “W-why? What sorcery did you use?”

“Sorcery? Brother, your faith is impure.”

Alvin’s smile grew gentler as psychic power stirred subtly: “This is the Emperor’s blessing, you idiot!”

“I’ll fuck—”

The violent scarred giant was utterly enraged by his tone, raising his blade to strike again.

But in that instant, psychic force surged, wrapping around the giant’s entire arm and twisting it clean off!

CRACK!

In a crisp, chilling sound of snapping bone, the giant’s right arm was twisted into a spiral.

Flesh and shattered bone mixed together—the agony instantly shattered his delusions. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, his face contorted in terror.

“Ahh...”

The scream never escaped his throat—he felt something block it.

Alvin gazed kindly at the giant, raising one finger to his lips: “Shhh... Be quiet. Don’t disturb others.”

“Ooooh... ooooh...”

The scarred giant thrashed in terror, desperate to flee this “demon.”

But as he took half a step, his right leg was crushed outright—flesh and bone fragments sprayed, and he collapsed, losing all support.

Pain—so much pain!

Snot and tears streamed down the giant’s face. Unable to speak, he could only stare at Alvin in terror, begging silently with his eyes for mercy.

“You want to live?”

Alvin read his thoughts and asked gently.

“Ooo! Ooooh!!”

The giant nodded frantically, his eyes filled with desperate, humble pleading.

“When others begged you for mercy, did you ever spare them?”

Alvin didn’t consider himself good, nor a moral paragon—but at least... he never killed without reason.

We’re all scum surviving in the slums—but the difference is: some fight to live; others kill purely to satisfy their desires.

Alvin was the former. The scarred giant and the Blood Axe Gang were the latter.

There’s a difference between scum and scum!

Hearing this, and seeing Alvin’s icy gaze, the giant finally gave up.

The pleading in his eyes faded, replaced by madness—hatred, venom, regret—all flooded his heart.

If only he’d killed this little brat back then, how could he have ended up like this?

He hated it!

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Alvin’s gaze turned cold as he spoke softly to the giant: “At least I’m giving you a quick death, aren’t I?”

As he finished speaking, psychic power surged!

A suffocating telekinetic force enveloped the giant—and crushed him into pulp, right before his terrified, horrified eyes.

Alvin took a deep breath, then turned toward the outside: “Next up—the Blood Axe Gang.”