Chapter 1

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Protagonist:

Lin En

Lena

(This story has an outline; hope all you dear viewers will interact plenty!)

"Damn it, I finally managed to save up enough Affection Level!"

Just as he thought about the female lead of *XX Kaleidoscope* gazing at him with ambiguous eyes, about to trigger a special CG.

A pop-up ad interrupted, and he could never click the real X button.

Lin En was furious.

Even more hateful, his hand trembled at the end and clicked on that ad reading "Come to the Warhammer World, enjoy a Loyal life."

Then that pop-up shattered like glass, exploding; the fragments didn't scatter outward but collapsed inward, rotating into a vortex.

From the vortex depths came a seductive electronic voice, sweet to the point of cloying: "Wish you a 'fulfilling' experience in the multiverse~"

Is this a proper Contract?

After that final complaint, Lin En's last consciousness was being sucked from his gaming chair into the vortex center.

When he woke again, a flood of information rushed into his mind.

Lin En Ke'er Wa Na, 22 years old, low-level Tax Inspector in the "Seventh District" of the Necromunda Hive World Lower Level.

Parents died in a Green Skin Assault five years ago.

Wait, Green Skin? Hive? Necromunda?

As a veteran Warhammer enthusiast in his past life, Lin En quickly reacted.

He really transmigrated to the Warhammer World?

Lin En somewhat unwilling to accept reality, struggled to sit up, back against the cold Wall.

He looked around; this was a room less than ten square meters, walls bare metal plates, covered in Rust Stains.

A hard plank bed, a wobbly-legged Table, a storage cabinet missing a Door — that was all his possessions.

In the corner piled empty Nutrient Paste tubes and a few filthy water bottles.

Window? No, just a palm-sized Vent, fitted with a filter mesh covered in grease.

What seeped in from outside wasn't natural light, but flickering neon lights, staining the room a morbid purple-red and sickly green.

"Fuck..." Lin En murmured.

This actually wasn't a dream.

All this was too real; those memories not belonging to him, at this moment firmly Took Root in his mind.

He could recall "himself" being reprimanded by his Overseer at the Tax Bureau yesterday.

Could recall the Tension when "he" secretly hid a small sum of Gray income.

Could recall the cold Rain on the day of his "parents'" funeral, if that acidic liquid dripping from pipe cracks could count as rain.

He braced against the Wall and stood, legs Weak.

Walked to the Vent, tiptoed to look out.

The sight made him Suffocate.

As far as the Gaze reached, a forest of metal.

Towering buildings squeezed against each other, haphazardly welded from Rusty steel, rotting concrete, and thick Pipes.

Layer upon Layer of Platforms, suspended walkways, crisscrossing cables, forming a three-dimensional labyrinth.

Neon Signboards flickered on every level, advertising inferior stimulants, Mechanical Prosthetics, flesh modification, and the Emperor knows what illegal services.

Further down, in the Abyss where vision could hardly Penetrate, Red Light and smoke rose.

That was the deeper Slum, a zone legend says even the Legal Affairs Department dares not easily enter.

Air turbid, visibility Less Than a hundred meters.

In the distance, two giant ventilation Towers like a giant's arms stretching upward.

Maybe there was slightly cleaner air there, but it had nothing to do with Lin En Ke'er Wa Na this low-level tax official.

Necromunda, Hive World, Warhammer 40K Universe.

Lin En slumped back onto the bed, hands covering his face.

As a veteran hammer-fan, he knew too well what a Hive World meant.

One of the most crowded, filthiest, most Cruel planets in the Galaxy, hundreds of billions of people crammed in steel megastructures.

Strict hierarchy, Upper Level Nobles living in debauchery, Lower Level Crowd struggling to survive in pollution, crime, and Mutation.

This is a Paradise for gangs, Mutants, cult Believers, and worse things.

And the time point, according to memory info: M41.998.

"Imperial Calendar Forty-First Millennium, Year 998." Lin En said softly.

"The Great Rift is about to Tear Open the Galaxy, Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade is brewing,

Tyranid Main Fleet still in deep space, but vanguard Spores already spread across the Galaxy."

He took a Deep Breath, then choked coughing on the Hive World's stench.

No, now is not the time to panic.

First, must find a Method to survive.

He began rummaging through "his" Items.

At the bottom of the locker, he found a wrinkled dark gray Tax Inspector uniform with a faded eagle emblem on the collar.

An old-model Laser Pistol, model "Ruger" L-15, a typical Nest Lower Levels issued weapon, poorly maintained, with only two Energy Magazines left.

A stack of paper Documents, mainly tax notices and payment demands.

A small bag of Credit Point coins; he weighed them, probably enough for a week of Nutrient Paste.

Plus a few half-used tubes of Hemostatic Gel and Anti-infection Medicine; in the Nest Lower Levels, these were harder currency than money.

Memory told him he had to report to the Tax Bureau today.

Three late arrivals meant a pay cut, and a pay cut meant he might not be able to pay the rent on this kennel next month.

Then be kicked out, wandering the streets, entering the Execution Line.

Lin En put on the Uniform and shoved the Laser Pistol into the nearly worn-out shoulder holster.

He glanced at the eternally dim Sky outside the Vent and pushed open the rickety Door.

The Corridor was darker, lit only by a few flickering fluorescent lamps.

The neighbor's Door was closed, but the sound of a baby crying and a man cursing came from Inside.

The Floor was greasy, and every step stuck to his feet.

Lin En walked toward the Tax Bureau according to memory, while alertly observing his surroundings.

This World was full of deadly threats everywhere.

Green Skins, Chaos Believers, Gene Thief Sect, Dark Eldar Raiding Party, even mad Machine Cult members...

In the Nest Lower Levels, there were countless ways to die, but one thing was certain: none of them were pleasant.

Along the way, he noticed several abnormal details.

Meat glowing green at the "Flesh" stalls, and people constantly talking about someone going missing.

In the Hive World, population disappearances were normal, but along this road...

The news he heard seemed a bit too frequent.

Plus the manhole covers on the Street occasionally spewing out disgusting purple liquid.

Lin En's heart sank.

Purple slime, a large number of missing person cases, abnormal meat.

These Clues pieced together pointed to a conclusion.

All signs indicated that a Genestealer Infection had appeared here, or rather, Genestealers!

Insect Spores had taken root in this Area, and the Gene Thief Sect was active.

There might even be low-level Tyranid Units hatched already.

The Hive World Bureaucrat system knew nothing about this, or knew but was powerless to handle it.

"Just arrived and run into a Tyranid invasion, damn it!" Lin En cursed in his heart.

He had to arm himself, immediately.

The Tax Bureau work could be put off temporarily; survival came first.

In memory, "himself" knew a Black Market vendor who might trade better weapons and armor for Credit Points.

Located at the "Waste Mountain" market, Third Channel, the shop marked with a Gear and Skull Mark.

Lin En changed direction, turning into a narrower alley.

The light here was almost zero, relying only on reflections from distant neon.

The Walls were covered with Gang marks and Chaos eight-pointed stars, the latter crudely crossed out, but the residual Traces were still shocking.

Lin En dared not look more, as if another glance would make his Brain explode.

He gripped the Laser Pistol under his arm, his Finger resting on the trigger guard.

While recalling the Weaknesses of Tyranid Units and the Behavior Patterns of Genestealers.

And the basic Survival Rules of the Nest Lower Levels: trust no one, do not enter dead ends, always leave a retreat.

The alley wound downward, the slope getting steeper.

A bit of light appeared ahead, the neon Signboard of the market Entrance.

The characters "Waste Mountain" flickered with missing strokes.

When he was still Twenty Meters from the Entrance, a Premonition of Danger exploded like a sixth sense.

A slight scraping sound came from overhead.

Lin En dove to the side fiercely, while drawing his Laser Pistol.

A black shadow fell from the sky, smashing into the spot where he had just stood, the Metal Floor making a dull sound.

Taking advantage of a flash of neon light, he saw the outline of that thing.

Humanoid, but with overly long limbs, joints bending backward, Fingers extended into sharp bone claws.

Head drooping, Shoulders with unnatural lumps, spine protruding like a string of bones.

Most importantly, the Skin of that thing in the Darkness faintly glowed with an oily Carapace sheen.

Genestealer Hybrid Mutant.

Third or fourth generation Infected, still retaining many Tyranid characteristics.

"Hiss..."

A low Hissing came from behind.

Lin En rolled and turned around, seeing two more identical figures emerge from the Shadows, blocking his retreat.

Their Eyes emitted a faint Red Light in the Darkness, mouthparts opening and closing, dripping corrosive saliva that sizzled on the Floor.

Exactly three; Lin En had already figured out how to return his soul to the Throne.

Lin En leaned his back against the Wall, aiming his Laser Pistol at the first Mutant to appear.

His heart pounded like a war drum, but his thoughts were abnormally clear.

These weren't fully-formed Gene Thieves; their intelligence was lower, they acted on instinct.

The carapace shouldn't be fully hardened yet; the Laser Pistol can punch through.

But he had to hit a vital spot; otherwise they could shrug off the wound and pounce to tear him apart.

"For the Emperor! (For the Emperor!)"

Lin En roared loudly, the trembling in his voice — whether fear or excitement, he couldn't tell.

The mutant directly ahead launched the first attack.

It rushed in on all fours like an insect, fast enough to leave residual images.

Lin En instinctively squeezed the trigger; a crimson laser beam tore through the darkness, striking the mutant's left shoulder.

The carapace melted through, green blood sprayed, but the mutant only staggered once, its speed undiminished.

The two on the flanks pounced simultaneously.

Lin En leapt aside, knocking over a pile of empty oil drums.

The sound of rolling drums echoed in the alleyway.

He utilized this brief chaos to fire continuously.

One shot went wide, hitting the wall and sparking; another hit the second mutant's leg, knocking it down.

But the third mutant had already closed in.

Bone claws swung down; Lin En barely blocked with the Laser Pistol, the metal body emitting a piercing grinding sound, leaving deep gouges.

The tremendous force numbed his arm, the pistol flew from his grip.

The mutant opened its mouthparts full of sharp teeth, lunging for his throat.

In that life-or-death instant, Lin En unleashed all his potential.

He drove his knee hard into the mutant's abdomen; as it doubled over in pain, he drew the hidden dagger from his boot.

In memory, "he" had always kept this small knife for handling private matters.

The dagger plunged into the mutant's eye socket, buried to the hilt.

Green blood and gelatinous matter sprayed his face.

The mutant let out a shrill hiss, struggling madly.

Lin En released the dagger, scrambling away in a panic.

The other two mutants pursued relentlessly.

The injured one limped, but its speed was still not slow.

Lin En charged into the market entrance, knocking over a stall.

The stall owner's curses and the sound of scattered goods caused a commotion.

He couldn't care less, sprinting toward the abandoned pipe district from memory.

The terrain there was complex; perhaps he could shake them off.

He shuttled through the maze-like pipes and passages, his lungs burning with pain.

The footsteps and hisses behind him drew ever closer.

Rounding a corner, ahead was a dead end — a rusted-shut maintenance door, beside it piled rotting mechanical wreckage.

"Damn it!"

Lin En leaned against the iron door, panting heavily.

Two mutants, one behind the other, blocked the narrow passage.

They slowly advanced, savoring their prey's despair.

The injured one licked its leg wound; the other scraped its bone claws against the wall, making a piercing sound.

It's over, I'm going to die here.

Not even half a day since transmigrating, and I'll become part of Tyranid Biomass — fucking ironic.

Just as the mutants entered five meters distance, preparing to launch the final blow...

At the edge of his vision, a shoddy pink pop-up blasted open without warning.

【System Activated!】

Host life crisis detected, activating "41st Millennium Also Wants to Fall in Love!" (Trial Version)~