"So... so much..."
Xiao Dao's voice trembled.
He looked close to tears as he stared at the stack of fertilizer scrip in his hands.
How could a gutter-born thug like him ever be trusted with this kind of money?
Five thousand credits was enough for a lower-hive rat to indulge himself for the rest of his short life.
Li Qinwu, however, remained calm.
He was not worried Xiao Dao might run.
This money was a test.
If Xiao Dao fled with five thousand, then Li Qinwu would merely be grateful such a cheap sum had exposed an unreliable man.
If Xiao Dao stayed, worked hard, and proved worthy, then Li Qinwu would gain a dependable subordinate.
Either outcome benefited him.
He patted Xiao Dao on the shoulder.
"One more task."
"Find a way to collect empty one-hundred milliliter liquor bottles. Clean them. Sterilize them. Reuse them."
He pointed toward the workshop.
"When the alcohol is ready, I'll need containers."
Xiao Dao nodded so fast he looked like an excited bird.
"Don't worry, Boss! I'll gather enough bottles to last forever!"
At last, Li Qinwu turned toward the Silent One, who had drifted into another strange trance.
Li Qinwu snapped his fingers in front of the man's face until his attention returned, then dragged him into a corner.
"Out of everyone here, you're the one I worry about most."
He jabbed a finger into the Silent One's chest.
"I do not want to come home and find tentacles growing from my brewery, daemons drinking my liquor, and my employees being eaten as snacks."
The Silent One's eyes wandered.
"Relax, relax. I'll be very good."
Li Qinwu pointed at his own eyes, then at the other man.
"My dear ancestor, I'm a traditional person with a weak heart."
He lowered his voice.
"Please do not bring back ninety-nine percent rare collectibles from the Warp."
"Fine, fine," the Silent One muttered irritably. "I said I won't cause trouble."
Li Qinwu knew pressing further would only backfire.
So he patted him once, returned to his hidden room, collected his gear, and prepared to leave.
Level III helmet.
Level III armor.
Sniper rifle.
One hundred rounds.
Food and water.
First-aid supplies.
Painkillers.
Minor surgical kit.
One small endurance stimulant.
One small strength stimulant.
He intended to practice with the sniper rifle while scavenging for valuables and, if possible, hunting chemical gang vermin to continue the black-market bounty mission.
After sealing the brewery gate behind him and disappearing down the passage, the Silent One remained still for several seconds.
Then he became active again.
He stared at the locked iron door of Li Qinwu's hidden room.
There was definitely something interesting inside.
Everyone else was busy.
No one was watching him.
Quietly, the Silent One crept toward the door and raised a hand.
Psychic force gathered at his fingertips.
Li Qinwu moved through the tunnels until he reached the system-designated transfer zone.
Three selectable maps appeared before him:
Northern Trench
Reactor
Duel Arena
His primary goal was sniper training.
Secondary goals: scavenging and killing toxic insects from the Chemical Gang for bounty rewards.
He selected Duel Arena.
This was the same vast underground battlefield where the Fertilizer Gang and Chemical Gang had clashed before.
Last time, he had relied on a combat rifle from elevation.
This time, he carried a precision weapon with magnified optics.
Anyone who crossed his sights would die.
Selection confirmed.
Countdown.
Teleportation.
Impact.
After a wave of dizziness, Li Qinwu appeared inside a gigantic darkened industrial chamber.
Visibility was poor.
Rows of rusted shipping containers lay scattered across the floor. Towering support pillars rose into darkness above. The place spanned dozens of football fields in size.
Once, it had likely been a strategic logistics warehouse for the hive.
Now it served as a gladiatorial killing ground for gangs.
After orienting himself, Li Qinwu headed toward the outer perimeter.
There, crane structures and clusters of suspended worker housing units clung to the walls high above the arena floor.
Those old quarters might still contain valuables.
Before moving further, he injected the endurance stimulant.
Then the strength stimulant.
Warmth surged through his bloodstream like liquid fire.
His muscles tightened.
His pulse sharpened.
Then he ate a piece of sacred bread, adding another temporary enhancement.
Current status:
Strength: 19
Endurance: 20
Energy: 25
His physical capabilities now far exceeded those of a normal adult.
He sprinted through the gloom at frightening speed.
Enhanced senses allowed him to read shapes through the darkness where ordinary eyes would fail.
Soon he reached a row of metal-paneled worker quarters built into the wall.
He began searching room by room.
Nothing.
Rats and scavengers had long ago stripped easily accessible areas bare.
After looting five or six empty rooms, Li Qinwu kicked over a filing cabinet in disgust.
"Damn scavengers."
Then he stopped.
His thinking had been wrong.
Anything reachable by normal looters had already been picked clean.
He needed places ordinary rats could not access.
He looked upward.
Several stories above, more tin-roofed housing units were mounted directly into the wall like industrial pods. Rusted iron staircases connected them.
But the uppermost staircase had collapsed.
Seven or eight rooms at the top were now completely isolated.
Li Qinwu narrowed his eyes.
The glass windows above were intact.
No broken doors.
No signs of intrusion.
Untouched.
He immediately sprinted for the stairs.
The metal staircase rose seven or eight levels—fifty to sixty meters above the ground. Every step groaned dangerously beneath his weight.
At the highest accessible platform, he found the final staircase broken.
The next platform sat five meters away and three meters higher.
Below him was a sixty-meter drop.
If he failed, he would become paste.
Li Qinwu opened his system panel once more.
Strength 19.
Endurance 20.
Energy 25.
Enough.
He backed up to gain space.
Eight meters of runway.
He inhaled deeply.
Then exploded forward.
Metal thundered beneath his boots.
The staircase shook violently as he launched himself into darkness.
For one breathless instant, he flew.
Then his fingers caught the ledge.
Muscles strained.
He hauled himself upward in a brutal pull-up and rolled onto the platform.
Safe.
He lay there breathing hard for a second before grinning.
Five meters horizontal.
Three meters vertical.
Close.
Very close.
Then he rose and began searching the untouched top level.
As expected, no rats had ever reached this place.
The broken stairs had guarded the loot for years.
He opened the first room.
A stale odor of dust and old time rushed out.
Everything inside remained exactly where it had been abandoned.
Li Qinwu immediately tore through drawers, lockers, and containers.
Then he froze.
In his hands was a heavy twelve-inch electronic device protected by hardened casing.
A personal terminal.
His heartbeat quickened.
He immediately checked the system appraisal.
Name: Electronic Personal Terminal
Estimated Value: 120,000 credits
Description: Valuable personal computer generally used by mid-level hive management for storing documents, supervising workers, accessing local networks, and private entertainment.
Note: Device is encrypted. If unlocked, internal data may significantly increase value.
Li Qinwu nearly drooled.
One hundred and twenty thousand.
And it fit in a backpack.
This was the most valuable compact item he had ever touched.
He packed it away with utmost care and accelerated his search.
If this room belonged to a mid-level manager, then more treasure might still be hidden inside.
The Earl of White Tree
After a deeper sweep of the room, Li Qinwu found several smaller valuables.
Five storage cartridges.
Game media.
Estimated total value: two thousand each.
He stared blankly at them.
Warhammer 40,000 had video games?
The cartridges resembled compact modern gaming media, brightly colored in absurd contrast to the grim darkness of the far future.
Yet, thinking further, it made sense.
Even in the cruelest empire imaginable, the wealthy still demanded entertainment.
Someone always profited from distraction.
Li Qinwu carefully stored all five.
Ten thousand credits total.
He continued searching and soon found another ten cartridges.
These were not games.
Movies.
Serialized dramas.
Li Qinwu's curiosity nearly killed him.
What kind of television did Imperial citizens watch?
Noble romance on a forge world?
Ecclesiarchy sermons disguised as family drama?
A Commissar detective series?
If the terminal were unlocked, he would have sat down and watched immediately.
He also found a charger, then exhausted the room's remaining value.
The second room yielded only a damaged watch.
Estimated value: somewhere between one hundred and one thousand depending on buyer and function.
The third room was sealed with an electronic lock requiring a keycard.
He tried forcing it for a while, but failed.
Reluctantly, he moved on.
Then he opened the next room—
And stopped cold.
A skeleton sat slumped against the far wall.