40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 129 32. Traders who come

Khalil looked thoughtfully at the mirror in front of him with a calm expression.

The mirror showed a pale face, with completely dark eyes resting quietly above the cheekbones, a high nose bridge, and shallow lips, pursed into a line. Like a sculpture, it is condensed under dim light. This face was no different from his past one. It was just as cold when it was expressionless, and it didn't look gentle when it smiled.

The only difference is that this face - or rather, the flesh and blood clinging to the skeleton, was built up bit by bit with his spiritual energy over seven days.

They were genuine, his flesh and blood, and in a physical sense, he was now a living person.

"I have begun to doubt medicine, instructor." Jairzinho Guzman said. The medical officer stood behind him, and every detail on his face revealed a numb calmness.

Khalil turned his head and smiled apologetically at him: "I'm sorry to make you go through all this, Jairzinho. However, you can still continue to believe in medicine. My situation is among the very few. Very few.”

"Is it the same height as you, instructor?" Guzmán asked with a sense of humor, and he shrugged in amusement. "Well, I guess I should try to convince myself that, as a special case, your situation doesn't mean much."

"The best it can tell is that I'm a psyker."

"The formidable psyker - Felzalost of the 3rd Company couldn't do this, Master, and he's pretty much the best psyker among us."

"You compartmentalized me, Jairzinho." Khalil raised an eyebrow. "What? Just because I went out for a while, am I no longer human?"

Guzman did not answer this sentence. His expression answered the question for him - it was a complex expression of wanting to laugh but not daring to laugh, full of recognition of Khalil Lojales' special sense of humor. , and some kind of worry.

"There's no one else here," Khalil said. "So, if you want to laugh, then laugh, Jairzinho. I have a terrible sense of humor, but this joke should be pretty good?"

The medical officer raised his hand and covered half of his face, not knowing what to do. This calm lasted for dozens of seconds. When he lowered his hand again, the medical officer had completely regained his composure.

At least it's calm on the surface.

"How?" Khalil looked at him expectantly. "Will you at least comment on my joke, Jairzinho?"

Guzman finally burst out laughing.

He thought that this kind of jokes one after another was much scarier than those that could be told in one sentence. In a sense, the joke teller is like laying a minefield, and a chain of minefields is of course much more difficult to deal with than a single minefield.

The person who listens to the joke is the person responsible for demining. You never know where the enemy will plant booby traps that may cause chain explosions. As long as it is detonated, the aftermath will continue to occur.

Thinking of this, the medical officer couldn't help but laugh a little louder - at this moment, he suddenly realized that his sense of humor seemed to be more terrifying than their instructor's.

This incident relieved him of the stress he had accumulated due to constant inspections in recent days, but it also brought up another thing.

Bringing out the voice of his primarch.

came from behind him, calm and clear.

"What's so funny, Jairzinho?"

The laughter suddenly stopped, and the 'cemetery' fell into silence again. The medical officer widened his eyes and looked at Khalil, who had a calm expression. The latter smiled slightly and said nothing.

Jairzinho immediately turned his head after a brief silence, and as expected, saw Konrad Curze, the original body of the Eighth Legion, in the darkness.

He was wearing a black robe, and his sharp features seemed very soft at the moment, but his dark eyes were staring at the medical officer curiously, exploring his heart. Seeing him turn his head, Konrad Coates asked again.

"Why did you laugh so hard just now, Jairzinho?"

".Can I not answer this question, Primarch?"

"Yes, of course you have the right to choose, but I want to hear it. I want to share the joy of your laughter."

The medical officer was silent again. For five seconds, he told the joke completely with determination as if he was ready to die. He lowered his head, so he did not see Conrad Coates's expression, but after the narrative was completed, he heard a series of chuckles.

Jairzinho raised his head in disbelief and found that their gloomy primarch was smiling very happily - not as if he was fake, but with genuine joy. It filled that pale face, making the gloominess between his eyebrows disappear a lot.

"I have to say, this is really a terrible and easily misunderstood joke. But, personally, I would classify it as a good joke. However, as the leader of the Eighth Legion, I must also remind you In a word, Jairzinho, you better not tell this joke to your brothers."

"Of course I won't," the doctor replied quickly.

Of course he could hear what his original body was implying - what a joke, not everyone has such a terrible sense of humor. If he dared to say it, he might have to spend the next few days in the duel cage. It's passed.

Conrad Curze nodded to him.

"So, would you mind letting me talk to our instructor alone for a moment?" he asked softly. "I have a lot of work to hand over to him."

——

"Work?"

Khalil looked at his nominal boss: "Don't tell me you're going to let me go back to work and start paperwork right now."

"Didn't you already start?" Conrad Coates asked, sitting in his chair. "You started creating extra work for the servitors on your second day back, Khalil."

".This is an interesting adjective." Khalil laughed dumbly. "Okay, I admit that I am indeed a person who can't take any time off. So, what's the matter?"

Konrad Coze shook his head and made a gesture: "You haven't forgotten the adamantine mines on Nostramo, right?"

“Can a poor man forget every bit of his wealth?”

"."

Midnight Ghost looked at him dissatisfied and began to hiss again: "I'm talking about business, Khalil. However, you haven't been so negative recently. I think I have to thank Robert for that. Guilliman."

Khalil did not answer this sentence, but just smiled and nodded, indicating that he understood the ghost's dissatisfaction.

"In short, the nobles will trade with several planets around Nostramo, and fine gold is the main cargo. They have reached some trading agreements with the people on those planets. Every five years, they will Send a fleet to trade with the nobles."

Khalil raised his eyebrows, and Konrad Curze nodded, confirming his thoughts.

"They approached Nostramo three hours ago, and we used gang-hopping methods to intercept the ships. There are three ships in this fleet, and they do not carry any weapons, armor, or even any detection function. None. They knew nothing about our presence."

"According to the Adeptus Mechanicus, these ships are extremely old and cannot be identified, and most of them have been abandoned with no possibility of repair. A priest speculated that these ships should be left behind by former human colonists Legacy is a short-distance transport ship specialized in transporting cargo between planets.”

"One or more human worlds that rely on the shadow left by their ancestors to trade with Nostramo?" Khalil said softly. "That's interesting. Do any of them speak Nostramo?"

"Quite a few," Conrad Coates replied calmly. "Many of them are even descendants of nobles from Nostramo. According to the information obtained from the torture, they went out to 'increase their knowledge' and 'travel for relaxation.'"

Khalil grinned, his white teeth shining under the soft light in the office of the Lord of the Eighth Legion: "So, do they know what is happening in Nostramo now?"

Conrad Coates also smiled slowly: "They don't know."

"So, what are you going to do with them, legion commander?" Khalil asked again.

"I plan to imprison them first." Coze replied firmly. "Simply executing them is a mercy. Their fathers died in the fire you lit, and they are naturally not immune. The people on Nostramo still don't know the existence of justice and judgment, but they Will find out soon."

Khalil smiled softly, and imperceptible relief flashed across his face: "So, where are the others in this fleet?"

".That's the point."

Conrad Coates pursed his lips: "I don't know what to do with them."

Khalil was not surprised by his answer. He nodded: "If you think about it as the leader of the Eighth Legion, what answer will you come up with?"

".I should replace the empire and regain the lost territory."

"Recovering the lost colonies is part of your job."

"But."

"But what, Conrad?"

Conrad Coates was silent for a long time before giving his answer. His tone was hesitant and slow, forming an extreme contrast with his previous firmness: "...But this means I am going to start a war."

"You're in the middle of a war," Khalil replied calmly. "Humanity has no other path but unity."

"Even if it takes war to achieve this kind of unity?"

"Even if it takes war to achieve this unity."

".Caryl, is this right?"

The instructor of the Eighth Legion calmly stared at the Lord of the Eighth Legion. After a brief silence, he answered him in a calm and determined voice: "I will not change you with my ideas, but your problem will be here. Find the answer along the way, Conrad.”

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