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

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However, since Mars adopts a holistic education system, they don't require graduation certificates, so Pasteur, who failed multiple courses, was sent back in a daze.

Pasteur's understanding of this was that he didn't understand, but since he had returned, he would contribute his share to the Death Guard.

While we're at it, let's find that senior H.

In fact, Pasteur's own academic achievements had already earned him enough prestige in the Martian technology base. The Iron Warriors and the Iron Hands warriors all praised this Death Guardian, who seemed to be missing a screw in his head. Some even said that he had the academic style of that H.

But Pasteur himself knew that this was just empty praise. Only those who had carefully studied the great work of his predecessor H knew that the gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth.

Their praise only intensified Pasteur's obsession with finding that predecessor!

Unfortunately, even in a place like the Foundry Hall, formalism exists. As soon as they disembarked from the spaceship, they were first given a baptism by the God of Machines, and then they were called to listen to a speech by Hades, the leader of the Foundry Hall.

Pasteur stood expressionless at the front of the new recruits, the words flowing into his left ear like water and then smoothly flowing out of his right.

He has never cared about, paid attention to, or liked such activities.

More than anything, he hoped to find the master foundry and ask if there was anyone in the foundry whose name started with the letter H.

Or perhaps the first letter of the surname is H, or is there anyone who particularly likes the letter "H"?

Pasteur was torn between thinking about how to approach his esteemed predecessor, worrying that the predecessor might have already perished in battle, and then wondering what mechanical components he should place at the grave if the predecessor had indeed died.

Hades, who was exchanging a few words with the expressionless recruit, had no idea that the recruit was already thinking of him as dead.

As Hades, he was only concerned with the upcoming entertainment activities.

It was clear that everyone in the foundry disliked formalism and preaching. Hades chatted briefly before sending the eager technical sergeants to assess the new recruits' professional qualities.

He was also curious whether these newcomers could withstand the challenges he had set. Because of Hades' experience last time, this year's casting masters had really pulled out all the stops, and the challenges they set were all incredibly bizarre.

From the irritable and fearless old man awakened by the temporary repair, to the assembly line for manufacturing general-purpose food for ordinary people with limited time constraints, Hades exclaimed that he was born.

Although he himself didn't play the human role, Hades' challenge this time was to manually control the landing coordinates and repair the external emergency landing system while being inside a falling, out-of-control airdrop pod.

Enrique said, "You are the nascent winter's dawn. It's one thing to be out of control, but to repair the [external] systems while in a descent, are you trying to create a miracle?"

Hades blinked innocently at this. Wasn't this an inspection?

Although no one thought any new recruits would reach the final level set by Hades.

So that day, the master foundry workers sat together, sipping tea, watching the fearless veterans, who had already conspired, brutally beat up the new recruits, and they all said that this was youth.

Who hasn't been beaten up by Wuwei?

Suddenly, everyone's gaze shifted to Hades, who was mixed in with them.

Hades, who was happily drinking tea and eating snacks, was kicked out to patrol and was responsible for rescuing the technical soldiers who had been beaten down.

Although Hades was somewhat displeased that he could no longer sit there and eat, watching the recruits struggle up close was also a kind of fun, a pleasure unique to the Foundry, a hobby that other Death Guards could hardly understand.

Soon, amidst cries of agony, the new recruits collapsed to the ground, unable to fight any longer. The master foundry workers walked over with smiles on their faces, chatting and loudly lamenting the poor quality of this batch of recruits.

"I've completed it. What's the next trial?"

A voice suddenly rang out, interrupting the master foundry workers' conversation.

Pasteur gazed at the assembly line he had just erected, mentally reviewing his design once more. No problems, he thought—

A figure suddenly intruded into his thoughts.

"You finished so quickly?"

Pasteur silently looked up and saw the man who had just spoken staring at him with great interest, as if he were very interested in him, but he had forgotten what the man's name was.

Pasteur nodded cautiously.

"The front end of the production line deconstructs the commonly used 3-type design, while the back end borrows from and improves upon the Martian design."

"No, that's not the point."

After Pasteur finished his brief introduction, the man spoke softly, the red light in his left eye scanning Pasteur's assembly line.

"You used a wheel-shaped structure that has never been seen before, right? I've never seen it before."

Pasteur glanced cautiously at Hades, tacitly agreeing with this statement.

Pasteur pondered to himself, "As the head of the foundry, he should know that senior H. Although it's a bit embarrassing for Pasteur to talk about, I believe that such an outstanding person should rise to prominence in the foundry."

The premise is that you absolutely mustn't die.

Pasteur only needed to make a good impression on the leader and then take the opportunity to ask him about his predecessors.

Pasteur felt for the first time that he had made a major breakthrough in interpersonal communication.

While Pasteur was still figuring out how to ask the question, Hades noticed that the child was silent again and had to speak up himself.

“I know you, Pasteur, don’t I?”

Pasteur nodded, remaining silent.

Hades couldn't hold back any longer; at least give him a reaction.

Fine, Hades was used to it, so he tried probing again.

"Your forging talent is quite remarkable. Which department do you plan to pursue further studies in after this?"

Then Hades saw Pasteur firmly shake his head at him.

For the first time, Hades mentally typed out a screen full of question marks.

"My lord, I don't need it."

Wait, what exactly did this recruit understand? What did he interpret Hades' words as?

"grown ups,"

Pasteur swallowed.

"I'm looking for someone, a Deathguard technical sergeant."

Hades was completely confused, but he still agreed.

"Tell me, and I'll try my best to help you. Tell me his name, or what he looks like."

Pasteur slowly shook his head. He suddenly found it difficult to speak. He didn't know what that senior dog's name was or what he looked like, yet he had rashly gone to ask the leaders of the foundry.

"I didn't know, but the senior left a book on Mars, a book that can be edited by many people, and the senior's signature is H."

Then Pasteur saw his superior staring at him with a helpless expression, as if he had something to say.

Pasteur knew he had chosen the wrong person and spoken the wrong thing again; he was finished.

He recalled how he had been chased and scolded by the Martian sage for making a mistake in the religious rituals, and then he was forced to reflect in the church for a month. If it weren't for the "How to Pretend to Be Pious" manual left by Senior H, he would never have been able to escape from that church in his entire life.

"What are you looking for him for?"

Hades asked, trying his best to remain composed, and then he saw Pasteur with a look of righteous indignation, as if he were about to give up everything.

“I hope to become his apprentice or to thank him. The words left by Senior H have taught me a lot and made me realize the meaning of life.”

“I am grateful to be a Deathguard, and I am also grateful to be a Deathguard Tech Soldier. The thing I regret least in my life is going to Mars and seeing and understanding those words.”

Pasteur said solemnly,

"So, sir, please at least let me see the senior."

Hades couldn't hold back again. Wait a minute, he could understand the meaning of life before? What on earth did this recruit named Pasteur understand?!

"I know who you're looking for."

"You've already seen him."

Hades remained composed, trying to keep his face as expressionless as possible, and then he saw Pasteur's look of surprise and disappointment.

"Sir, I don't recognize him. Could you tell me who he is?! I won't fail to recognize him again!"

Hades stared at him silently with his head down, while Pasteur stared nervously at Hades.

Hades slowly reached out and pointed to himself.

"Um, my name is Hades."

"H."

Then Hades saw Pasteur's belated, sudden realization, and then he slowly fell backward—

Pasteur felt a buzzing in his head, and the last thing he heard was H-senpai, no, now Hades, shouting "Apothecary!"

Now, Pasteur thought, since he hadn't even recognized his senior, he should just go and carry out his death mission.

--------

As expected, no one made it to Hades's gate; the most promising recruit was personally taken down by Hades himself.

Enrique announced that this year's assessment of recruits' professional qualities is the most entertaining to date, making up for the lack of entertainment in the previous year.

A two-in-one chapter!

None today

Chapter 287 Night is Approaching

The galaxy is too large, and the Empire is too large, forcing its legions to constantly traverse the waves of the warp in order to reach another battlefield.

When the Deathguard fleet finally entered the physical world after countless warp jumps, Hades breathed a sigh of relief as he saw other fleets in the distance through the porthole.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. Hades felt like he was being tortured to death by the turbulence of warp travel. He had the illusion that he could see creatures in warp retching at him all the time.

Hades indicated that he knew the Warp hated him.

During the long, aimless time of warp travel, Hades, as a master forger, took Pasteur, who was socially dead (and almost socially dead himself), as his first apprentice.

Kirkland disagreed, but his dissent was suppressed.

Although Hades didn't directly manage Pasteur, he preferred to throw this dim-witted Death Guard into the foundry and let him figure things out on his own—if he had any problems, he could go to Hades' office to find Hades.

So every time Hades opened his office door, he would see Pasteur and Obi-Bryant (another inquisitive social management talent) arguing in the hallway.

Hades couldn't understand how one of them could be so taciturn while the other was so eloquent. Their companies, cultures, and fields of expertise were completely unrelated.

Of course, sometimes when Hades opened his office door, he would find Vox scolding two new recruits for fighting in front of his door.

Vox is much more worry-free; Hades gives it a thumbs up.

But all that is in the past. With the Death Guard entering the real world, the entire fleet has returned to a state of high alert. The Death Guard's scythe is ready to fall again, ready to bring destruction to the disobedient at any moment.

The prerequisite is that the legion's management must first hold a meeting with the management of other legions to discuss what tactics to use.

Meanwhile, Hades, the Legion leader who was to cooperate with the Death Guard this time, stared silently at the letters on the screen, deep in thought.

It is the Midnight Lord and the Shadowmoon Wolf.

If it were just Shadowmoon Wolves, that would be excellent. Although their underlying motives might be questioned at times, Horus is honorable and rational, and possesses an extremely rare empathy for his brothers.

Moreover, Deathguard and Shadowmoon Wolves have already cooperated once before. Putting aside the concern that Mortalian might be abducted by Horus, the uncorrupted Shadowmoon Wolves would be excellent allies on the battlefield.

But this time, there's also the Midnight Lord.

The Eighth Legion, the Midnight Lords, are not exactly universally hated, but they are certainly universally despised. Hades couldn't immediately judge whether the Death Guards or the Midnight Lords had a worse reputation.

The Primarch of the Night Lords is Conrad Coz, whose homeworld is Nostramo, a cesspool comparable to Barbalus. The difference is that on Nostramo, it is the people who rot, while on Barbalus, everything except the people rots.

It's like a super-sized Gotham City.

Each Primarch is profoundly influenced by their homeworld, and Conrad Coz, raised in such a blessed land, naturally exhibited behaviors that were not understood by others.

To give a simple example, the Night Lord's fighting style is to torture and kill a small number of people, then throw the tortured and bloodied corpses in front of the still-living enemies, letting fear consume them, and ultimately defeating them without a fight.

Koz called his actions an efficient and necessary crime, claiming that they had voluntarily taken on the sins the Empire demanded of them, and that the Night Lords had conquered a world with minimal casualties, and that the world was not damaged and could be put into production immediately.

From an efficiency standpoint alone, the Night Lord's combat style is certainly a viable option.

I wonder what those local people were thinking when they saw their wives and daughters skinned alive.

Naturally, Conrad Coz's combat style has drawn much criticism from Primarchs. For example, Human Rights Ambassador Guilliman, who had recently worked with the Deathguards, had criticized Coz.

Mercy is the younger brother of justice; without mercy, justice becomes cruel, merciless, and inhumane!

Guilliman believed that Coates lacked the necessary compassion.

Hades wasn't particularly moved by this style of combat. The atrocities committed within the Empire's borders were endless, and Koz was simply bringing them into the open, making them more visually impactful.

Moreover, Hades was reminded of the Death Guard's combat style by the brutal destruction of Galaspa, the mid-to-lower management who were hanged, and their specialized weapons.

Hades paused his active association for the moment. In any case, if the last battle hadn't been fought against psionicists, Guilliman would most likely have given a speech to Mortalian criticizing the cruelty of the Death Guards.