Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry

After passing through several more air-tight blast-proof doors, Alex gained a new understanding of the Chameleons, the largest gang at the bottom.

Different from the gangs he had seen in the past that were unorganized and disciplined, and only relied on murderous ferocity and crude biochemical modification to rule the residents of the lower hive cities, this Chameleon Gang gave him a kind of army. A unique sense of order and prohibition. The faces of the gang thugs patrolling the residential areas did not have too much madness and viciousness. Although they still did not look like good residents, they were more normal than the anthropophilic gangs he had seen in the Catalan Industrial World. Too much.

Fire-breathing Ryder was walking not far away from Alec, pouting and telling him the glorious history of the Chameleon Gang with an extremely proud look.

"Have you seen these good boys? Our Chameleon Gang has been able to conquer the entire Hades' base lair without any opponent. We only relied on my training and the wisdom of our boss."

Alex glanced at Ryder with disbelief. As someone who had seen real warriors, he had no interest in these gang members playing like house. They had better have fighting ability, so that they can survive the next orc attack until reinforcements arrive.

Ryder took Alex and the others to a factory. The scene here opened his eyes. Several production lines producing vehicles and ammunition were running. Residents in the core area of ​​the Chameleon Gang were working here, assembling. Guns, ammunition and armored vehicles, God-Emperor on top, Yarrick swore he also saw a homemade Leman Russ tank coming off the production line.

"You see! This tank factory was dug out of the rubble by us. It took several years of operation to reach its current scale."

Yarrick had to re-evaluate the strength of this gang, and he suddenly worried about whether he could convince the mysterious boss to join the defense force against the greenskins.

"You can go in, but you can't."

The two guards at the door stretched out their hands to block Yarick and the soldiers behind him. Ryder also aimed the melta gun in his hands at them. Once Yarick and the others chose to refuse, they would be killed.

After handing over their bolters and power swords, Yarrick and Ryder walked into the core of the most heavily guarded gang at the bottom of the hive city. A man with a very mean and gloomy face was sitting on a leather chair, holding a glass of orange-yellow wine glass in his hand.

"Hello, Commissar Yarick. Let me introduce myself first when we meet for the first time. I am the leader of the Chameleon Gang, Domicilon."

"Hello, Domicilone."

"I heard from Ryder, you want to recruit us?"

"That's right."

"Oh ho ho, if you want a gang of thugs to help you, then you need to pay for it."

"Loyalty to the Emperor is the best reward."

"Oh ho ho, it's all these silly things again. I thought Ryder told you that these things don't apply at the bottom of the hive city."

"He did say that."

"Then you still say that? Are you teasing me?"

Domicilon's narrow eyes became more and more cold and bloody as he spoke. If Yarick couldn't give him a satisfactory answer, he would definitely kill the unarmed imperial political commissar. As for the emperor's punishment? He didn't care. He was born at this damn bottom and struggled hard until now. It was already punishment.

"If the greenskins attack Hades' hive, no one will survive."

"Isn't that just right? Those high-ranking nobles and officials will die with us. It's fair. I like these greenskins."

"Listen, Domicilon, I hate those drunken nobles as much as you do."

"uh-huh."

"So are you interested in cleaning up those upper-class nobles with me?"

"Pfft!!!"

A mouthful of wine spurted out from Domixiron's mouth, and his originally unconcerned and elegant appearance was instantly broken. He had calculated that this political commissar would use the innocence of the hive residents, the emperor's loyalty, and the empire's punishment to punish him. He came to coerce and threaten himself, but in the end, the political commissar actually wanted to completely cleanse the nobles of the hive city.

Domicilon sat upright and looked at Yaric seriously, "Are you really serious? Are you sure you are a political commissar and not a spy who sneaked in from green skin?"

Yarick didn't speak, just looked at Domicilon calmly.

"Hahahaha." Domicilon smiled softly and stretched out his hand, "So? Happy hunting?"

"No, it's a pleasure to cooperate. Those nobles using the word hunting is too insulting."

Domicilon, who was laughing so hard that he couldn't hide his recognition and appreciation for Yarick, said, "Would you like a drink? My dear?"

————

Political Commissar Yarick and his soldiers with a serious look walked out of the station under the jurisdiction of the Chameleon Gang. He successfully recruited these warriors who were proficient in street fighting, although he had to pay for the lives of those nobles. However, he did not feel the slightest bit guilty about betraying the nobles. To the empire, these cowards who had lost the courage to fight were no longer worthy of the title of nobles.

It just so happened that Yarrick could use this precious opportunity to completely reorganize the production line and deployment of Hades' nest. These nobles not only blocked his own steps, but also sucked blood from the materials that should have been distributed. He was fed up with Von Strab and these red tape nobles. If he could really defend the Hades nest and survive the orcs, he would definitely rush to Von Strab as soon as possible. Trabb's bedroom, a big hole in his fat forehead.

After collecting combat information about the Seagoras Nest, Yaric realized that the defense of the Hades Nest needed to change its thinking. In the face of those huge and thick-skinned orcs, using positional warfare to protect the nest is a matter of death. The outer areas of the hive city must be completely abandoned, and important facilities in the upper levels of the hive city must be moved to the middle or even lower levels.

The Planetary Defense Force, gang members and hive residents will engage in close firefights with the orcs in the complex underground terrain. The entire Hades hive will become a nail in the subcontinent, attracting continuous attacks from the orcs.

This huge city will become the grave of countless orcs and humans, and Yarrick is the strongest grave repairer.

"Shouldn't you be accompanying your head? Why follow me."

After Yarrick thought about how to build defenses and adjust the production line in the future, he turned back and asked Spitfire Ryder.

"I.I." The arrogant and rude fire-breathing Ryder at the bottom of the hive city seemed to have disappeared. His coquettish appearance made Commissar Yarick's simmering anger towards him almost burst out. Just when Arric was about to lose his patience and was about to curse in the Emperor's sacred curse words, Fire-breathing Ryder spoke up, "I. I want to be an Astra Militarum."

As if he was surprised by this request, Alex swallowed back the curse words.

"Then you can go to the Ministry of Military Affairs and submit an application."

"They won't handle it. They said I have a unique stench from sewers. They will just arrest you, send you to the Ministry of Justice and beat you up, and then send you to the Planetary Defense Force to work as a coolie. I don't want to be Planetary Defense Force."

Alex looked at the shy man and didn't know what to say, but under Ryder's almost pleading eyes, he didn't know why he was crazy, "Then you come here and be my guard. Go with the instructor and train those guys how to survive in the hive. When this battle is over, you will be the Astra Militarum."

"Don't lie."

"The Imperial Commissar never lies."