Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 442 Intermission: In the Finance Department

Chapter 442 Intermission: In the Finance Department—II

"Do you want a late-night snack, Bernard? I can order one for you."

"It is said that the newly opened [Salamas Night Watch Restaurant] is the most popular chain restaurant among the mortal helpers in recent times: they recently opened a new restaurant on the [Dawn Goddess], There is a big opening ceremony going on right now.”

"Well, I remember the news, Mr. Hawthorne: I approved their application."

"Yes, you can always be your own: So what do you want to eat, or let's take a look at the recommended food on this flyer: they all look good, and they have also guaranteed takeout business. "

"Well, let me see..."

"Brown soup, Frey pie, pigeon pie, Sandor chicken family bucket..."

"...What is chicken?"

"Said to be a long-extinct delicacy on Holy Terra: According to research by the biological sages on the forge world of Ryza, chickens were once one of Terra's apex predators, with their wingspans reaching five rice, which relies on ultrasonic detection and plasma venom catalyzed by bioenergy to hunt large prey such as deer or sharks."

"But at least 20,000 years ago, chickens were forced to live in cities due to the rapid expansion of human settlements. However, they never learned to read the traffic lights when crossing the road. In the end, because It became extinct due to a long car accident.”

"As for this chicken dinner, I heard that it is a mixture of venison and ant beef: the group of biological sages accompanying the army said that based on the latest breakthroughs in genetics, chicken should taste like this."

"..."

"Then: What's the relationship between chickens and eggs?"

"..."

"This is beyond the scope of my knowledge."

The Terran veteran shrugged.

"But as far as I know, eggs are artificial foods that have been cultivated through high technology since tens of thousands of years ago: biological sages like Reza are able to use plasma greenhouses to produce eggs in batches. "

"Yeah, I haven't tasted them much: I don't think they taste as good as roasted ant-cow eggs."

"It's good to hear from you that our tastes for elegance are the same, Bernard."

"I'm very happy too, Mr. Hawthorne: What do you think of this purple wedding package?"

"Suffocating feeling? Is this the taste you like? But it's pretty good: as for me, Bernard, can you order a bloody wedding package for me by the way?"

"Bread and salt, and a random mystery ingredient that won't be revealed until the moment you open it: isn't it a little too bland, Your Excellency?"

"For me, it's just right."

"Okay, hurry up and place your order. It is said that this restaurant's performance is very good, and even the number of daily dishes is limited: I don't want to be hungry tonight to be on duty to approve documents."

"After all, the long night is here."

"Others can sleep in peace, but we must stay at our posts."

"Yes: until death."

"Hehehehe..."

"For us old guys who have semi-retired, Bernard, we will indeed die in this position: after all, this is the place where we can best realize our self-worth, but for a little guy like you , the situation is a bit different.”

"Remember what I told you, Bernard: you have a bright future."

"Then you have a bleak future?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

A certain promising Dawnbreaker tried hard to move the stiff muscles on his face.

"Sorry, I made a mistake..."

"No, no, no, it's okay."

A chilling smile spread across the face of the Terran veteran.

"I understand your thinking, Bernard: you were not originally a member of the Finance Department. It was just your personal voluntary behavior to stay up late to help me approve documents. But now it seems that this kind of voluntary activity has infringed on your personal It’s your main business, I think it’s been a long time since you returned to the 36th Company?”

"Not long, Your Excellency."

"Maybe I remembered it wrong..."

"It's only been two years: they always thought I was killed in the last expedition."

"...Killed in action?"

"About five months ago, when I was approving the list of dead, I found my name."

"……cough."

The veteran coughed and tried to make his expression serious and reliable.

"So, how did you explain it to your company?"

"No explanation needed."

Bernard spread his hands.

"The death list is only responsible for recording those martyrs who have died in the battle, or those missing persons who may have died: but no matter which battle it is, most of these missing persons will be reported in various forms after the battle. Way to return to the Legion.”

"Separated from the main force, walked to the wrong airdrop pod or battleship, lost contact due to independent military activities, was directly summoned back by mother's psychic power, discovered an unknown location with archaeological value, was busy rescuing a kindergarten or library He forgot the time to gather, or he was seriously injured and disappeared. A few hours later, he was brought back in an armored vehicle by the passing mortal auxiliaries or Mechanicus..."

"Oh, there is another special case: We originally thought that a certain veteran had unfortunately died in the war, but later we discovered that he returned to the army on his own, but before he could report, he met his mortal friends, and was then Invited to the other party's child's birthday party: because the child wanted her Uncle Astartes to celebrate her birthday there, thereby delaying the personnel records."

"Well, I have an impression: I remember he is still in the solitary cell, right?"

"Reasons are reasons, rules are rules."

Bernard chuckled.

"However, I am a little worried about whether such punishment will be effective."

"Don't worry, at least this confinement will definitely be effective."

The Terran veteran smiled.

"After all, if I remember correctly, the company of the veteran in the case played a great role in that battle, and all the combatants were invited to have dinner with the mother of our genes: otherwise, there would be no To conduct such an urgent personnel count."

"..."

Bernard raised his brows, feeling sad for the unknown brother.

"All right."

"if I get it I am lucky, but if not, it is fate."

"..."

"You seem to be feeling something, Bernard."

"Yes, Your Excellency: who wouldn't want to dine with our Primarch?"

"Well...if that's the case, then there's no need for you to worry."

"……What's the meaning?"

"Didn't I tell you?!"

Hawthorne pursed his lips, his face was filled with astonishment, and then he saw an even more astonished face.

"tell what?"

"Ah... my negligence."

"You're getting a promotion, Bernard."

"...Be a company commander?"

"No."

The veteran smiled deeply.

"To be a public servant."

——————

"..."

My name is B.

Well, you can also choose to call me Bernard, Bernard-Woolley: Just my personal opinion, I actually don’t like this name very much, after all, it always reminds me of the complicated things in the world back home. Aristocratic network, and layers of blood marriages.

This ancient ritual, which aims at pursuing the so-called [Purity] and [Etiquette], is the darkest part of my memories of my hometown. It was also the reason why I actively participated in the Astartes selection in order to escape from my home world. main reason.

Fortunately, if escape is the criterion for success, my escape was indeed very successful: I am afraid that until the moment my humble life completely disappears, I will never have the opportunity to touch the moist black soil of my hometown again.

After all, I have decided to stop my life on the Far Eastern frontier, but the hometown of my physical body is in the Maelstrom area. The two are thousands of miles apart, and I am afraid there will be no possibility of any intersection in this life.

Of course, if one day the scope of the Far Eastern Frontier can radiate to the core of the Maelstrom, thus touching the edge of the solar star field, and even allowing the navigator on the ship to see the Star Torch Mountains on Holy Terra: What I need to worry about at that time may not be about my hometown.

"..."

No, you can't think like this: this is obviously a script written by those people from Ultramar.

But then again: If our Far Eastern frontier continues to expand its territory and population at this rate, then what is the essential difference between us and the malicious Guilliman's kingdom?

——————

"..."

"..."

"Dangerous thoughts, Bernard."

"...Yes, Mr. Hawthorne."

"This is a slander against our Primarch and even the entire Far Eastern Frontier."

"…Yes, Your Excellency."

"If you were in Macragge, you would have been imprisoned for revealing the Primarch's secrets."

"...I know, Your Excellency."

"So: Help me approve the pile of documents on my right. I pretended not to hear."

"……Your Mightiness?"

"Plus the one on the left."

"..."

"What? There are several more piles on the table next to me: which one do you like?"

"..."

A promising Dawnbreaker immediately stood up and quickly dragged these human-sized documents to his desk, then sorted them into categories, filed them, and started reviewing them batch by batch.

Opposite him, Hawthorne just glanced at this boy who was quite fond of him. While stirring the coffee in the cup, he was calculating the time when the supper would be delivered. At the same time, he was still thinking about how to deal with those things after the rest. A pile of files about the same size as him.

After all, these are documents that the entire legion will need tomorrow.

The veteran took a sip of his coffee, which was a bit bitter.

The Finance Department, or the Finance Office of the Dawnbreaker Legion, was originally just a temporary place to house semi-retired veterans like them. However, with the establishment and continuous expansion of the Far East border, the power of the Finance Office also expanded. Getting bigger and bigger.

Until now, the Finance Department has become something similar to the shadow cabinet, intervening in many internal affairs in the name of finance: this can be seen from the application statements that Hawthorne and Bernard can never complete. figure it out.

It can be said that the power in Hawthorne's hands has reached the highest peak of his more than two hundred years of service; at the same time, his estimate of his remaining life span has also reached the lowest level in more than two hundred years. valley.

He will not be the first Astartes in the history of the Human Empire to die from exhaustion at his desk: this [first in history] is definitely not an honor.

Although it was wrong to think so, there were times when Hawthorne really expected that the Dawnbreaker Legion would usher in a real war, one that would threaten the entire Legion and force the Primarch to send in old bones like them. The tragic war: a war even larger than the Ran Dan Extermination War.

But then again, in today's galaxy, there are few opponents that can become larger than Ran Dan's extermination war: or in other words, only the one in Holy Terra...

"cough……"

Can't think about it, can't think about it: Why did his thoughts become Ultramar without him realizing it?

Hawthorne pursed his lips, and his face was distorted for a moment, which made Bernard, who was sitting opposite him, raise his head and look at his senior with some confusion.

"What's the matter, Bernard?"

"No, it's nothing...it's just that I have a document here that's not easy to deal with."

"explain."

"Well, that's right."

Bernard grabbed the document in front of him, and then from the pile of waste paper next to him, based on his memory, he accurately found two almost identical documents, and then arranged the three documents in sequence.

"That's right, Your Excellency."

"In the financial reports of the Salamas Administrative Region and the Sanchong Administrative Region, I found a lot of strange things: For example, in the two storage worlds in the southern part of the Salamas Sector, it is clear that these two worlds have not yet been invested. Used, but the report shows that both worlds have been put into use, and they are used to store the equipment and logistics supplies of the 46th Company."

"is there a problem?"

"……The issue is……"

Bernard paused.

"The Dawnbreaker Legion doesn't even have the 46th Company."

"..."

Hawthorne was silent, and he realized what Bernard was talking about: Then, he planned to use his eyes to quiet his juniors, but Bernard, who had devoted himself to his work, obviously did not Aware of hints from seniors.

"And here, Your Excellency: Among the other warehouse worlds in the Salamas Sector, there are also several warehouse worlds that are shown to have been put into use. They have all stored and transported a large amount of materials to the corresponding units. The targets are the 46th, 47th, 48th, and 49th companies respectively."

"..."

"I originally thought I was wrong. After all, the Salamas Sector is the most autonomous sector in the Far Eastern Frontier, and the Triple Sector is actually not included in the empire's jurisdiction, so I I checked them carefully several times and even found the expired documents: I am very sure that I have not personally handled them, and I am also very sure that the numbers of the four companies also appear on these documents."

"But I remember that in the establishment of the Dawnbreaker Legion, there are no figures of these four companies at all: the original body said in public that she did not like these four numbers, so she did not plan to set up the numbers of these four companies, but The company numbers in these warehousing world reports are also real."

"And the column for their promise holder is filled with... the name of the original body?"

Bernard raised his head, looked at his senior, and asked the final question.

"Also, why do most of the materials consumed by these warehouse worlds be all kinds of cannonballs and construction materials: as if someone is using them to build a lot of fortress worlds?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Does this bother you, Bernard?"

"Actually: a little."

"Then leave it to me."

Hawthorne smiled gently, so his junior handed the documents to the Terra veteran with hesitation. Hawthorne put down his coffee cup, took the documents solemnly with both hands, and His name was signed on the document that needed to be reviewed, and it was mixed into the documents that had been reviewed, and as for the expired documents...

"..."

The hissing sound of the shredder filled the air.

"..."

"Mr. Hawthorne?"

"Um?"

"These files and companies..."

"what document?"

The Terran veteran raised his eyebrows and looked at his junior sincerely, while Bernard fell into silence for a while.

"..."

"What do you want to say, Bernard?"

"I...cough..."

"I'm saying: maybe we should push those restaurant couriers."

"Yeah: I'm a little hungry."

Hawthorne smiled and nodded.

"Want some coffee, Bernard?"

"...Okay, Your Excellency."

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