40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 491 9. Sinful Blood (1)

"Please continue, Sister," said Chupani Moran.

He was sitting in a crimson armchair, with a curtain of light flashing in front of him. A woman in a linen robe was frowning in the curtain of light.

She looks stern and old-fashioned, with her head shaved cleanly and a jaw so square that one wonders if she has had surgery to adjust it. There is a dark black national religion symbol engraved on her forehead, which seems to have some inexplicable connection with those dark brown eyes, forming a sense of intimidation that makes people dare not look into them.

"I have nothing to say." The nun in the light curtain shook her head seriously. "I can only tell you so much."

"Why? He is just a low-level priest." Chupani asked nonchalantly.

The nun's face suddenly darkened, as if she was very dissatisfied with this sentence.

"I advise you not to use words like low-level or high-level to describe a devotee. Pastor Horst is a well-known devotee and ascetic."

"He has received invitations for promotion or transfer almost every year since he has been a priest for twenty-four years, but he has refused them all, except for the unsolicited application eleven years ago. He could have furthered his studies at the Pluto Monastery, but he would rather Spread the emperor's glory to other, more ignorant worlds."

Chupani Moran nodded and gave an apologetic smile. At the same time, he slightly raised his right hand and gestured to a servant standing behind the light curtain, who immediately left.

"I'm sorry, Sister, I didn't know he was such a devout man. To express my apology, I will be on Monday—"

"——No need." The nun interrupted harshly.

Chupani kept smiling and nodded slowly.

"You have donated so much to us in recent years. I understand what you are doing, Chupani."

"I only allow you to use our influence because your mother and I are old acquaintances, and I have recently heard some rumors about the charity home you opened. Before you solve this matter, We will not accept any further donations from the Moran family."

The light curtain dissipated, but the smile on Chupani's face did not disappear. He slowly rose from his armchair and began to pace up and down his study.

The thick carpet perfectly absorbed the sound of his footsteps, and his white ankles were looming under his robe. The firelight burning in the fireplace nearby reflected on his skin, showing a pearly white color.

He slowly walked to a full-length mirror with a gold rim, and began to look at his appearance in the mirror, looking intoxicated, until a knock on the door sounded from behind him.

"Come in," Chupani Moran said softly.

The servant who had left earlier came slowly behind him, but he was not alone. He was also holding a child in a white uniform. She still looked dull and had no reaction to what was happening at the moment.

Chupani looked at the girl through the mirror, and after a few seconds, the smile on his face grew slightly larger.

"It's her," he said slowly. "In addition, please go ahead and increase the ration next month."

"Understood, my lord." The servant bowed his head in response and released the girl's hand.

He immediately turned around and left, not even forgetting to close the door thoughtfully. In the study, the fireplace crackled, and the silver candlestick placed on the desk reflected the firelight, stretching Chupani Moran's shadow very long on the wall.

He stood there with a smile, stretched out his slender right hand and touched the girl's face in the mirror, his expression becoming slightly intoxicated.

He turned around and waved to the child affectionately.

"Come here, child, let me take a good look at you." He called in a very soft voice, and the girl responded slowly to his request.

She seemed slow, or simply unable to think clearly. She walked stiffly in front of Chupani, who squatted down with a chuckle and put his hands on her cheeks.

"What is your name, child? How long have you been in our charity home? Did my dear dean tell you your destination before setting off tonight?"

The girl did not answer. She had long lost the ability to speak, but her lips were slightly opened. Chupani waited patiently for a few seconds, but all she got was a large ball of saliva sliding down her lips.

The current leader of the Moran family narrowed his eyes, stretched out his right hand with a slight displeasure, and caught the ball of saliva before it hit the ground. Then, he raised his right hand and covered the girl's face with his wet palm.

His slender fingers were slightly spread, encompassing the girl's entire face, and his nails were even embedded into her flesh. The blood slowly flowed out, but the girl did not make any noise or fuss. She still stood where she was without the slightest intention of resisting.

Chupani smiled slightly at her, and suddenly waved his hands vigorously. With some kind of tearing sound, he rushed forward excitedly. The girl fell to the ground, staring at a sparkling chandelier, twitching twice from time to time, and her pupils had already Scattered.

To her, tonight was over, and so was her life. However, for Chupani Moran, the night is still very long, and he still has a lot of time to taste more delicious tastes

At least, that's what he thought until the screams rang out outside his window.

He was too young to know that there were other things watching in the dark besides monsters.

——

Tujia is already very familiar with killing. Although he has not killed many people, if a person walks at the junction of darkness and light for a long time, he must have seen many things that ordinary people cannot imagine.

The same is naturally true for Tujia. He has seen many ways of death that cannot be described in words. If he had to pick the most terrifying one, he would probably choose the AX-I-32 neurotoxin. The victims of this toxin Will wail and turn into a puddle of melting blood in just a few minutes.

For those assassins who really need to assassinate in public, this weapon is obviously not very practical, so it falls behind in the competition for the standard weapon of a certain world.

Its creator was so incomprehensible that he went crazy and poured the toxin into the water circulation system of the lower hive.

When Tujia found him, he had already committed suicide, so the case could only be closed hastily. On the way back to report to his superiors, he had nightmares for months because he saw people screaming and melting in the streets.

In those dreams, he could only watch them die and be drowned bit by bit in blood. He had already seen such a terrifying scene of hell. He thought he would never be shaken by any ordinary killing scenes. wrong.

Because what the Astartes who called themselves Zel did was not killing, but massacre.

He didn't use a gun or a knife, he just kept walking through the darkness. Tujia couldn't even see his shadow. He could only judge which direction his collaborator was currently in through the continuous screams, and then chased him and saw corpses on the ground.

The surgically modified, well-trained soldiers equipped with heavy firepower, automatic turrets, and heavy armor lay motionless in their own blood, and the only thing Tujia could do was run past them, clutching his gun. Chasing the next scream.

He had given up thinking about it and turned himself into a pure running machine. Wherever there are screams, that's where he wants to go.

Confused about the current situation? It doesn't matter, just run over.

I don’t understand what this Zell wants to do? No problem, just run.

Unexpectedly, what would happen if you broke into a noble's territory in the middle of the night and started killing people? It's okay, the worst outcome is just death

Panting, Tujia climbed up a flight of stairs, holding on to the white wall, and rushed to a small square with sculptures and fountains.

He finally caught up, and the battle here was not over yet—or, in other words, it was about to end. Zell had already picked up the last Moran family guard still standing in his hands.

The man struggled hard, and the full-face helmet with night vision function activated glowed white. At the last moment before death, he finally clearly saw the true face of the monster that was killing them with great speed.

This did not bring any relief, but instead aroused deeper fear. A few seconds later, his head was thrown to the ground by Zell with a crooked head. Tujia was afraid that he would leave immediately again, so he hurriedly asked to stay.

"What the hell are we doing?"

"Kill the evil," Zell said.

He stood there, gently shaking his hands so that the blood could escape from the sharp gauntlets. Tujia stared at the blade-like fingers and fell into an awkward silence.

He didn't know how to answer Zell's words, punish the evil? Of course he knew there was something wrong with this family, but he needed at least some evidence, right?

He didn't ask the question, but his eyes revealed his true thoughts. So Zell chuckled, blowing past him like a gust of wind, and disappeared, leaving only a slightly cold word.

"Some things leave no trace, Investigator. In other words, sometimes you have to trust your instincts a little more."

"But what if your intuition is wrong? You can't handle a case based on intuition alone!" Tujia shouted in the direction he left.

"I can't be wrong," Zell said. "It's the dead who speak to me, not my gut"

Another burst of screaming started again, and Tujia finally cursed angrily, turned around, and started climbing another staircase. He really couldn't understand why the Moran family wanted to design so many stairs in their territory.

Above his head, the moonlight penetrated the ecological dome and landed quietly beside him, bringing with it four other tall black figures. They stood on the top of the Moran family's 'mountain', coldly overlooking all the blood below.

"Find him," one of the shadows said hoarsely. "Let him repent."