Chapter 422

·

·

·

Protagonist:

Lin En

Lena

These Gene Thieves lurking deep in the Bingyuan Camp were Lin En's true trump card for guarding this "backup resource" of millions.

From the first day the idle factories in Middle City were designated as temporary isolation zones, every batch of conscripts stationed there contained highly disguised third-generation hybrids.

They looked no different from ordinary youths, could eat and sleep, and could pass the strictest identity verification.

Only extremely faint Psyker Fluctuations deep in their brains marked their identity as belonging to the Bug Swarm.

Normally they stayed put, living and training like the most obedient conscripts awaiting mobilization.

Secretly they were like moving perception networks, synchronizing every stir of wind and grass in the entire Isolation Zone in real time to the Hive Mind.

The Chaos Believers' supposedly flawless infiltration and sacrifice plan had been under the eyes of these hidden stakes from the moment the first mole mixed into the Bingyuan Camp.

They did not startle the snake, merely watching coldly as the believers quietly colluded, hid Witchcraft Tools, and carved blasphemous Runes in the factory corners.

Like patient hunters, waiting for the prey to fully bare its Fangs.

The moment Bishop Jansen's Purification Squad broke through the wall and stepped into the Factory Area, the Gene Thieves scattered everywhere began mapping the terrain of the entire factory area.

Where Witchcraft Traps were hidden, which areas had the densest Mutants, and the specific location of that Blood Altar.

All information was like an unfolded map, clearly reflected in the Bug Swarm's Consciousness Network.

The next second, in the mind of an Iron Guard soldier mixed into the first Purification Squad, a complete route appeared.

That soldier was named Holt, a young corporal in his thirties, still bearing traces of immaturity on his face.

His footsteps paused slightly, then returned to normal, his gaze sweeping across the corridors ahead where crossroads intertwined.

He glanced at Sister Cecilia at the very front of the Team, holding a Chain Sword and preparing to order scouting, gritted his teeth, and quickly followed, feigning reserve.

"Sister Superior!" He lowered his voice, edging close to Cecilia amidst the Roaring Gunshots and Monster Roars.

"Please wait, I, I am familiar with the terrain here."

Cecilia suddenly turned her head, her silver-gray eyes bearing the sharpness unique to Combat Nuns, sweeping over his young face:

"What did you say?"

"I was born in this factory."

Holt panted, pointing at the rust-stained ventilation pipes above his head, then at the fork at the end of the corridor.

"My grandfather was a caster here, my father was a mechanic, I ran around the workshop every day as a child."

"Where the Secret Passages are, where the Core Warehouse is, I could find my way with my eyes closed."

He spoke earnestly, his voice trembling slightly, as if nervous about his rash volunteering:

"The place for that kind of, Chaos Rituals, must be spacious and hidden, I can roughly guess where it is."

In the factories of the Nest Capital, a worker family guarding the same workshop and the same machine tool generation after generation was nothing unusual.

Sons inheriting their fathers' trades, taking root for generations like rivets nailed to the vast industrial system—this was the life trajectory of countless lower-middle Nest Capital people.

Cecilia looked at him for two seconds, her gaze passing over the Iron Guard Legion Emblem on his chest, then sweeping over the eagerness he couldn't hide in his eyes, and she instantly understood.

This was no "local" they happened to meet, but a guide arranged long ago by the Upper Level.

The Governor's Mansion's hand reached deeper than she had imagined.

She did not expose him, merely nodded slightly, the Humming of the Chain Sword lowering a few degrees:

"Lead the way. Take one wrong step, and I'll take you in for questioning."

"Yes!" Holt's eyes lit up, and he immediately quickened his pace to the very front of the Team.

With precise route guidance, the Purification Squad avoided several Mutant clusters guarded by heavy troops and bypassed countless hidden Witchcraft Traps.

The scattered Chaos Waa'gh that occasionally darted out along the way could not withstand the crossfire of the Combat Nuns and Iron Guard Elites; the Element Flame swept over, leaving only a field of charred remains.

Occasionally, a few Chaos Cultists hiding deep in the pipes, about to launch a sneak attack, had their necks snapped by Gene Thieves who had silently crept up before they could even reveal their claws.

The corpses slid down the pipes, landing in the shadows of the corner, not making a sound.

These hunters lurking in the dark were the most competent cleaners, smoothing out many hidden dangers for the Purification Squad.

Therefore, although the factory covered a vast area, with over a million Mutants and Imperial Cultists scattered across various workshops,

Aberrants kept howling and lunging at them along the way, but the Purification Squad did not at all blunder about like Headless Flies as expected.

They were like a precise surgical knife, plunging straight into the Core along the most effortless path, and in just one short hour, they reached the door of the Central Main Workshop.

The entire journey cost only one Iron Guard soldier having his arm slashed by an Aberrant's claw.

"It's here." Holt pointed at the tightly closed heavy alloy door ahead, his voice lowered.

"The middle is the casting workshop, the largest space, also very secluded, and long unused, with few people going for maintenance usually."

Cecilia wasted no words, raising her hand to make a tactical Gesture.

Two Iron Guard soldiers immediately stepped forward and attached Heat Melt Explosives to the door lock.

"Boom!"

After the muffled explosion, the alloy door crashed down.

In the center of the workshop, the Blood Altar piled up from corpses suddenly came into view.

More than ten Chaos Cultists clad in Deep Blue Cloaks were chanting around the altar, the Crystal atop their Staffs emitting a gloomy blue evil light, while the Runes on the ground writhed slowly like living things.

The Purification Squad suddenly burst in, and the leading believer was visibly stunned for a moment, his eyes full of Disbelief.

Impossible! The barrier outside is still there, Mutants cover the entire corridor.

And the route here is complex and winding, how could these people possibly find this place so quickly?!

He had only time for one thought to flash through his mind before Cecilia's Chain Sword came down with a howling wind.

"For the Emperor!"

The Combat Nun's roar echoed through the workshop, Purification Shells pouring down like a rainstorm.

No demon army, no Heavy Firepower, not even a proper Chaos Wizard.

These Believers were hidden agents within the Soldier Source, relying on surprise to slowly complete the ritual under the cover of the Barrier.

But once their hidden advantage was gone, they ran headlong into a Purification Squad made up of Combat Nuns, Combat Pastors, and Iron Guard Elites.

Their meager psychic power and melee ability were not worth a single Blow.

The Pink Terror Demon had just been Summoned when the Pastor's Holy Flame burned it into Green Smoke.

The Believers' witchcraft rays struck Power Armor bolstered by the Power of Faith, leaving only shallow scorch marks.

The Battle lasted a mere 2 minutes.

As the last Believer was split in two diagonally from shoulder to waist by a Chain Sword, the Blood Altar at the center of the workshop lost its Supply, and the azure Runes instantly dimmed.

The Witchcraft Barrier shrouding the entire Factory then shattered like Glass and dissipated with a Boom.

Sunlight streamed through the broken skylight, shining on the Burnt remains covering the ground.

The first Soldier Source Camp was declared Purification complete.

The same scene played out in succession in the other seven Factories.

Precise Route guidance, covert obstacle-clearing assistance, plus the Purification Squad's own formidable Battle strength, made this assault that should have been brutally fierce proceed unusually smoothly.

The traps the Believers had carefully arranged became useless, and the Mutant army they had painstakingly created became mere background along the way.

Often before they could even gather into groups, the Purification Squad had already taken a detour straight for the Core and smashed the Sacrificial Altar in one go.

8 Factories, 8 clean and swift Assaults.

When the news was Transmitting back to the Temporary Command Point, Colonel William was somewhat taken aback.

He had originally prepared for casualties of over half, Unexpectedly the total number of losses was less than one Platoon.

"The people from the Governor's Mansion, they've done their homework well."

Bishop Jansen leaned on his Scepter, gazing toward the direction of the eighth Factory, his Eyebrow slightly furrowed.

"Only Camp 8 remains..."