RNP Chapter 35 Excellent Assets
Chapter 35 Excellent Assets
The strategic command center at the top of the Governor's Spire.
The air purification system is running at full power, trying to remove the burnt smell and bloody odor that permeates the room.
However, the stench of tarnished fuel and burnt entrails had already seeped into the ornate velvet tapestries and the antique mahogany conference table.
Alicia van Valentius did not sit on the runic throne, which symbolized supreme power, as she usually did.
She stood before the holographic strategic map, her power sword still sheathed.
The disintegration force field on the blade has been shut down.
A faint blue glow remained, along with a few drops of black blood belonging to the rebel assassins.
Half an hour ago.
This place has just undergone an unseemly cleanup.
Several corpses were being dragged out by the machine gunners like dead dogs.
Those were spies planted by a collateral branch of the family within the guard, attempting to seize the governor's crown on this turbulent night.
"Clean it up," Alicia ordered.
Lilith, the head of the guards, silently handed over a clean white handkerchief.
Alicia took it and carefully wiped the carvings on the hilt.
But his gaze never left the despairing map before him.
Vast expanses of crimson spread across the map like a plague.
That represents the area that has fallen and lost contact.
The signs for the fourth and ninth granaries have been extinguished, leaving behind only a gloomy, lifeless atmosphere.
However, in this gray and crimson ocean, there is a tenacious green light.
It is flashing at a stable frequency.
The Seventh Granary.
The Ministry of the Interior's automated accounting machine made a clicking sound as gears meshed, and then spat out a long strip of parchment.
The data above is marked with bright red ink.
It was shocking, yet unbelievable.
Lilith wearily analyzed the data:
"If we don't count the Seventh Grain Depot, our tithe deficit is 45 percent. This means the Imperial fleet won't come to our aid; they'll only come to carry out the 'Tihe Default Cleansing'."
"Even... the court might find the governor's family incompetent and strip you of your ruling power."
Alicia took the parchment strip and her gaze quickly fell on the line of data in the seventh granary:
Output: 120% over budget.
Fuel reserves: Ample.
Number of refugees received: 103,000 (and no large-scale riots occurred).
"But with the addition of the seventh granary, the gap will be reduced to ten percent." A glint of brilliance flashed in Alicia's purple eyes.
"I have a way to make up for this number using the 'Holy Terra Bonds' accumulated over generations of my family, along with some antiques."
This lowly clerk, Rowe Dane, actually did it.
He not only withstood the wave of the plague, but also, like a magician, squeezed enough resources to buy lives from the mud and corpses.
"He's no longer a consumable." Alicia threw the blood-stained handkerchief on the ground. "He's an asset. A fine asset."
"Governor, something terrible has happened." At that moment, Lilith glanced at the red alert light that had lit up on the communications array.
"The Martian Mechanicus's 'technology recovery team' has penetrated the atmosphere. Their oracles have locked onto the Seventh Food Bank, where there are... very bad energy readings."
Alicia certainly knew what that was.
What Lowe did there was enough to warrant being burned at the stake ten times, according to the Imperial Code of Law.
According to the "General Casting Bible of the Mechanics," it is enough to make one hundred machine servants.
"Those red-robed cultists have a nose sharper than mutant rats," Alicia sneered, turning to walk towards the communications station. "They want to burn my granaries under the guise of 'technological heresy'? Burn my tithes?"
She pulled out a stamp from her collar, bearing the emblem of a wandering merchant, and stamped it heavily onto a pre-prepared electronic document.
"By the ancient privileges granted to the Van Valentius family by the Holy Terra, send a Level One Notice to the Mechanicus Recycling Team."
Alicia's eyes sharpened like knives.
"That's my 'private experimental zone.' It's a 'sacred improvement' undertaken for the Emperor's dining table."
"If the sage leading the team dares to blow up my granary just because a few screws don't conform to the dogma, I'll dare to appeal to the Ministry of the Interior, saying that the Mechanics have caused the cessation of tithe collection."
In this cold universe, only two things can make those stubborn motorists bow their heads:
First, the lost STC template;
Secondly, they should be made to bear political responsibilities they cannot afford.
……
The seventh granary, surrounding plaza.
The sky had a sickly, leaden gray hue.
Acid rain mixed with volcanic ash pattered against the ground.
The roar tore through the clouds.
A heavy transport ship painted in Martian red resembles a giant steel eagle.
With the low-frequency vibrations characteristic of the anti-gravity engine, it slowly landed in the middle of the square.
The blast wave blew away the makeshift tents around them and knocked several thin laborers into the mud.
Lowe stood in the shadow of the Wall of Gluttony, straightening his collar, which was damp from the rain.
He could feel the fragment of the Nurgle Amulet, which he kept close to his body as an early warning device, was getting slightly warm.
This is not because there is a plague in the area.
Rather, it's because the spaceship in front of them carries something extremely dangerous, capable of destroying everything.
"They're here," Luo Wei said in a low voice.
Father Alpha, standing beside him, looked somewhat disheveled, his red robe soaked through by the rain.
However, his electronic prosthetic eye was unusually bright, and several mechanical tentacles swayed uneasily in the air.
"Logical deduction: Survival probability 34%." The priest's electronic voice carried a slight electrical noise.
"The other party is Sage Magellan, a high-ranking inspector from the Martian Foundry. His obsession with dogma is like his thirst for lubricant."
The hatch slowly opened, accompanied by the hissing sound of hydraulic pressure deflating.
Two rows of friars, clad in heavy armor and wielding laser carbines, strode out.
Their steps were perfectly synchronized.
Each step was made to tread the same depth in the mud.
Beneath the red cloak are deeply modified mechanical prosthetics.
Behind the emotionless goggles lies a deathly silence, ready to execute the "purification" command at any moment.
The last one to emerge was Magellan.
It was almost unrecognizable as a human.
The original position for the legs has been replaced by an anti-gravity suspension chassis.
The torso is covered with various data interfaces and auxiliary robotic arms;
His face had no skin, only a cold metal mask embedded with optical sensors of varying sizes.
Like the compound eyes of an insect, it shimmered with a ghostly green light.
Three servo skulls hovered behind his head, emitting a sharp buzzing sound.
The sage ignored Lovi and Alpha, who were bowing respectfully.
All his sensors immediately locked onto the "Wall of Gluttony" that stood in front of the defense line.
This metal wall, pieced together from combine harvester armor plates, is currently undergoing some kind of chilling "physiological activity."
Its surface is covered with a layer of biometal similar to the stratum corneum.
On several thick metal barbs, half of Oglin's undigested limbs still hung.
A low, writhing sound came from inside the wall, like countless mouths chewing.
The highly acidic digestive fluids secreted were flowing down the base of the wall, emitting wisps of white smoke.
"Beep! Beep!"
An alarm suddenly sounded from the servo skull behind Magellan the Sage.
The red laser scanning beam swept wildly across the wall.
"A non-standard biomechanical response was detected!"
"Residual subspace thermal energy detected!"
"Warning! Warning! Suspected abomination intelligence! Suspected heretical technology!"
The atmosphere froze at that moment.
The guards raised their laser guns in unison.
The dark muzzle of the gun instantly locked onto the foreheads of Rowe and Alpha.
The air was filled with the acrid smell of accumulated ozone.
That's a sign that the laser weapon is about to be charged.
Luo Wei's heartbeat, however, remained relatively steady.
Or rather, it was forcibly suppressed to a steady frequency by him.
He didn't move, not even blink.
He simply tilted his head slightly and gave Alpha a look.
This is the "script" they've rehearsed countless times in the basement.
Father Alpha slid forward a step.
He did not beg for mercy in human low Gothic.
Instead, a series of rapid, sharp binary codes, like those from a modem dialing, burst out directly from the speaker.
"01001000... Praise be to the God of Machines... Data uploaded... Link requested..."
This is the "divine language" within the Cult of Mechanics.
It is a spiritual exchange that only priests can understand.
Magellan paused for a moment.
Numerous optical sensors are simultaneously focused on Alpha.
Then, a thick data probe emerged from under his robe and was inserted directly into the interface on Alpha's chest.
This is a data clash that takes place in milliseconds.
From Lo Wei's perspective, it was just a moment of silence.
However, within the mental sanctuary of the two priests, a massive stream of data was being churned over.
Alpha did not attempt to conceal the "living nature" of the metal wall.
Because it cannot be concealed.
There are too many witnesses.
Following Lowe's instructions, he interpreted it as an "ancient, sacred, special protocol designed to adapt to extreme environments."
"This is not a mutation, Sage."
"The data transmission is complete," Alpha said in a deep, synthesized voice.
The tone conveyed a fervent academic adoration.
"This is a fragment of data that we found while cleaning up an old archive at the bottom of the grain warehouse."
"It points to an STC derivative model called 'S-99'."
Upon hearing the word "STC," even Magellan's cold, metallic mask seemed to tremble slightly.
For the Cult of Mechanics, the search for the lost Golden Age technology STC is an ultimate mission more important than life itself.
"Are you trying to tell me that this man-eating wall is the crystallization of the wisdom of golden humans?"
"It's to adapt to the extremely polluted biomass environment at the bottom of the Nest City," Luo Wei said at the opportune moment.
He held a parchment book in his hands; the cover was already yellowed.
This was a "blueprint" he had created overnight, combining his mechanical engineering knowledge from his previous life with Alpha's reverse engineering.
He stepped forward, his steps respectful, his eyes clear and devout.
There was no indication that this was a cold-blooded advisor who, not long ago, was directing the use of corpses as fuel.
"My sage, please look. The environment here is corroded by the plague; ordinary metals will rust away completely in just three days."
"In order to ensure the operation of the harvesters and to prevent the emperor's granaries from being contaminated, we had no choice but to use this ancient technology."
Lo Wei opened the picture book.
Pointing to the complex structural diagram above.
"This mechanical structure is designed to 'devour' the surrounding organic matter and transform it into its own repair materials and corrosion-resistant coating."
"This is a sacred design of 'fighting poison with poison,' the ultimate adaptation of the machine spirit to harsh environments."
Lo Wei's expression was filled with awe for technology.
It was as if he were truly preserving a sacred heritage.
"We are merely humble maintainers, serving the machine spirit strictly according to the blueprints."
"As for why it has become so active, perhaps it's because there are just too many heretics here, and the machine spirit has activated a deeper defense protocol to protect us."
This statement is logically sound and watertight.
It cleverly disguises "chaotic corruption" as "biomass adaptive repair".
In the 41st millennium, a time of technological stagnation and rampant superstition.
Many high technologies are inherently as difficult to explain as magic.