Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

Page 525

"Are you Kirkland?"

Hades asked uncertainly, and then he saw Kirkland fall down, with the sages smoking in the background.

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【small theater】

In the garden.

The Pale Lord swung his scythe, and the colossal Great Unclean One exploded before him. Beside him, Karas Typhon, panting heavily, followed Mortarion, the speed of his scythe noticeably pausing for a moment.

The Primarch's hazy pupils shifted.

"Are you alright, Karas?"

"Thank goodness..." Typhon said through gritted teeth, "It's nothing, some idiot just cursed me."

Mortarian thoughtfully looked away.

Haha, about joining the group? That group is full, two thousand people. I won't upgrade the group for now. There's not much in the group anyway, no need to join.

Yay, it's gone!

Chapter 592 After the War

Blake was lying peacefully on the stretcher.

The lights in the corridor of the Sons of Hades mothership, the Corcotes, swept across his tattered armor as he held his battle axe in his hands as if cradling a bouquet of flowers.

No matter who tries to persuade him, he won't give up.

Blake knew that once he put down, he would have to put down his bare hands when he was beaten later.

The apothecary carrying him hurried along, turning left, going straight, then turning left again... Blake knew where he was being taken.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, he was thrown to the side of the duel cage.

The cold white light illuminated the smooth, slightly bloodstained floor of the dueling cage, while the area beneath was dark and gloomy, where eleven burly men in black armor sat in their seats with varying expressions.

Sitting at the very front was Buzz Bella.

Blake remained expressionless. Instead of getting up from the ground, he glanced at Buz while still lying down.

The old man maintained his fake smile, and the thought that he had the same disloyal demeanor even towards the Father of Genetics made Blake want to smash him with an axe.

Behind Buz were the leaders of the ten groups, with the leader of the eighth group, Kober, smoking a cigarette with a worried expression.

A heavy smoker.

Blake thought,

"Moderate injuries, ruptured stomach, comminuted fracture of right forearm, two fractures in each thigh, moderate anemia, and severe malnutrition."

Buzz took the report from the pharmacist and said calmly.

"You know the rules of the group, little one, stand up."

Protecting psychics, failing to report battle situations, causing leaders to misjudge... Of course, there may be other reasons as well.

Blake slowly stood up, his cracked armor rattling as he moved.

He lowered his battle axe.

"I want to play the first match against you."

Blake said that at the same time, Booth's fake smile widened and he looked much more genuine.

"Fight me?"

Booz casually replied, "We'll talk after you've won 76 straight games."

"My axe skills were personally taught by Hades,"

Blake said, "If you are still wary of Pluto, then fight me."

Buz was taken aback.

"A provocation, kid? You're still a novice."

Boots decisively ignored the group of old dogs behind Blake who had their eyes gleaming after Blake spoke.

Each generation is worse than the last! A bunch of guys who've never gotten anything good before!

"Let me teach you what reverse psychology is."

Booz coughed a few times, leaned forward, propped himself up on one leg, and spoke in a roguish tone.

"From now on, I will be in charge of all matters related to Hades. At the same time, the Father of Genetics needs my help in political and diplomatic matters—as for you, you are just a casual soldier on the battlefield, and a single extermination order can wipe out millions of you."

“And I have at least ten extermination orders remaining.”

Alright, now all the group leaders have heard that Pluto needs political and diplomatic talent.

"How about it?"

Buzz spoke calmly, looking at the dried bloodstains on Blake's face. Blake was expressionless, not at all like someone who had been provoked.

"I can chop you in half with the axe technique that Hades taught me in a moment."

Blake said he looked behind Boots.

"Stop dawdling, old man. Who wants me to chop him down with an axe first?"

“—No,” Blake continued, “Cobb, you go first, I’ve wanted to chop you up for a long time.”

A burst of maniacal laughter erupted from the leadership of the Underworld. A squad leader next to Kober slapped his shoulder armor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

Kober, his face dark, tapped his pipe, picked up his sickle, and stood up.

"What a misfortune for the family, what a misfortune for the family... I'll deal with you, kid."

“Let’s finish this quickly,” Blake said, limping onto the dueling cage. “I hope to end this battle before Hades returns.”

At this moment, the son of Hades' comrades are still unaware of Black's past madness on the Greenskin's Waaagh field.

Blake looked at Cobb calmly, his eyes unwavering.

There was a time when he faced the big green-skinned warlord's front teeth in the same way.

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[On a green-skinned ship near Mandeville]

"Me?"

Why are you looking for me?

"Because of orders," said Fugen, clad in a grey robe, calmly, "the Emperor wishes to see you."

The man with the large front teeth scratched his head, then patted his flat forehead.

“You little shrimps are really funny, one after another coming to us,” it muttered. “I’m just a happy green-skinned creature.”

With no light in his eyes, Fugen, resembling an ascetic, simply continued his persuasion.

[You recognized... that the person leading you wasn't a green-skinned man, so why are you obeying him?]

“He’s the one who leads us to a big waaagh,” said Big Tooth. “The gang leader doesn’t fight himself; he just sits in his chair all day thinking about how to get us to have a big waaagh. Why shouldn’t we listen to him?”

Fugen seemed speechless at the green-skinned man's words; he had never imagined that such profound and simple truths would come from the mouth of a green-skinned man.

Even the Eldar, who pride themselves on their rationality and nobility, might not be as intellectually elegant as this green-skinned creature.

Do you want to continue with waagh?

"We have discovered the most warlike being in the galaxy, far surpassing your race," Fugen said.

He grinned, revealing his large front teeth.

"One more time?" Fang Fang chuckled. "What do you little shrimps call this again... 'driving away the wolf to devour the tiger'?"

This is no different from what it did to you.

Fugan said he suddenly felt the task was better suited to Coz than to him—but the Emperor was happy to let them do it, almost as a form of entertainment.

"what!"

The man with the front teeth suddenly covered his eyes.

"At least he's willing to be genuinely kind to us, lead us in battles, and teach us how to be more waaagh! He even gives gifts to every warlord! Why isn't he one of our green-skinned leaders? I see him suffering all the time; he should be waaagh as happily as we are."

Fugen's pale purple eyes were fixed on the green-skinned warlord, all too clear-headed...

The Primarch suddenly realized something; he had an extremely absurd idea.

You originally... hoped to assimilate him?

Big Tooth chuckled, released his hand from DouDou's eyes, gave Fugen a sly look, then playfully covered them again before quickly putting his hand down.

"I failed,"

The man with the big front teeth replied, "The boss is different from the other small fry and canned goods. He can even make the canned goods not waagh."

It’s ridiculous.

As Fugen thought about it, he couldn't help but tug at his cloak. After the Eldar, a second race had emerged that wanted to assimilate, or rather, exploit the dead.

"Answer me, you bastard!"

The guy with the big front teeth said, "What was the gang leader's original name? He never told us, or what you little shrimps all called him?"

Fugen remained silent, the Primarch's expression serious. He reached out and removed a black-ringed bracelet from his hand, the only accessory he wore, bearing a strong Eldar style.

He took off the bracelet, which had seventy-seven thorns on the inside, and a trickle of blood flowed out. Fugen turned to show the bracelet to Green Skin.

On it, a sentence was written simultaneously in both High Gothic and Eldar languages.

"May Hades forever devour my spirit."

"Pluto..."

The man with the large front teeth murmured thoughtfully, and the next moment, the green-skinned creature immediately became listless.

Bean-like eyes looked at the original body.

"It's him."

Big Tooth quickly waved, and a green-skinned wizard dressed in fine clothes walked over. Fugen immediately judged that this green-skinned wizard's psychic powers were extremely strong.

"Big Mag, come quick! I know what the mob boss's real name is now."

Big Mag nodded to Fugen with neither arrogance nor servility, then calmly glanced at the bracelet in Fugen's hand.

His every word, action, and expression were strikingly similar to those of the red-skinned giant he once was.

For ten thousand years, Fugen had never felt so overwhelmed.

"May Hades forever devour my spirit..."

Big Mag read it aloud in standard Eldar, “This is an Eldar creation,” Greenskin said, glancing at the Primarch, “and you are human.”

Fugen gave a faint smile; his gray hair was dull and lifeless.

Being unable to do what we want does not affect our transaction.

Big Mag nodded. "I apologize for my rudeness."

"How's it going, Big Mag?"

The man with the large front teeth looked at his green-skinned wizard, who then said confidently,

“It’s true. It seems the Eldar started using our mob bosses a long time ago—I think this might be related to the culture of these weak alien races who fear torture after death.”

"Oh,"

The man with the large front teeth muttered something, then slapped his forehead again with a crisp "smack," and said, "Why is the gang leader so popular?"

Do you wish to continue following him?

Fugen asked cautiously,

His front teeth flashed a smile again.

"We only pursue big waaagh. Whoever gives us big waagh, we will go there."

Big Mag nodded.