The Cruelty of Taxation

Imperial taxation was divided into four tiers and sixteen grades.

Other than the fourth tier, which had only one grade and was specially tax-exempt,

the other three tiers each had five subgrades: basic, intermediate, upper, advanced, and special.

Tax grades from the first through third tiers corresponded to worlds of different classifications.

For example, Civilized Worlds, Agri Worlds, Hive Worlds, Feral Worlds, and even low-grade Death Worlds.

Forge Worlds, Shrine Worlds, Dead Worlds, and certain worlds granted special authorization were generally exempt from taxation.

Earth Planet was rich in minerals. In terms of development, it could at most be considered a low-grade Hive World, corresponding to the second tier's special grade of taxation.

Now, the Administratum had raised Earth Planet's tax grade to the first tier's upper grade, forcibly increasing it by three grades. It was utterly insane!

This meant Earth Planet would have to send countless civilians to mine day and night, wringing every last scrap of resources from the planet—even until blood flowed in rivers—just to barely pay its taxes.

The Imperial Tithe also included human resources.

The first tier's upper-grade tax required an enormous population tribute. Calculated out, he would have to hand over at least one-tenth of the planet's population!

After paying such a crushing Imperial Tithe a few times, even if Earth Planet's civilization did not perish, it would be close enough.

And that was only the ideal scenario. Whether they could even collect the tax was another matter.

The most likely outcome was that rebels would storm the Palatine District and chop Ron, the planetary Governor, to pieces.

But killing him would be useless. The taxes would still have to be paid, and Earth Planet's people would remain unable to escape their miserable fate.

Unless they could make the Administratum on Holy Terra reassess and alter the tax grade.

"This is driving people to their deaths..."

Watching the Servitors tirelessly bustle through the archive repository, Ron felt an inexplicable chill.

This tax absolutely could not be paid!

Ron pressed the call button on his desk. Before long, Old Mike, an elderly administrative officer, approached and bowed.

"Governor, what are your orders?"

"Send an appeal to the Administratum on Holy Terra. Tell them Earth Planet cannot bear such exorbitant Imperial Tithes and strongly requests a reassessment of its tax grade!"

"Ah? You mean sending a message to Holy Terra? How could that be possible? God-Emperor, that's simply impossible..."

Old Mike muttered to himself, seemingly somewhat out of his mind.

What was going on?

They could not contact Holy Terra?

Ron suppressed his agitation and tried to sound as gentle as possible. "Could you explain specifically why we cannot send a message to Holy Terra?"

Old Mike looked terrified. "...Because the God-Emperor has abandoned us. We are sinners!"

"This is a land abandoned by God. The God-Emperor has forsaken His flock!"

"Chaos Monsters will kill us all!"

Watching Old Mike grow increasingly terrified and hysterical, Ron went numb. He nearly drew his gun.

Could this old man be a heretic?

If what the old man said was true, then Earth Planet was in serious trouble!

"Old Mike, you're spouting nonsense again!"

Bayev walked over and sharply rebuked Old Mike.

Old Mike immediately wilted, lowering his head to greet Bayev. "Chief Steward."

Bayev patted Old Mike's shoulder, his voice gentle. "Go get some rest. I'll handle what the Governor ordered you to do."

"Oh... all right."

Old Mike walked out dejectedly with his hands clasped behind his back.

Pointing at Old Mike's retreating figure, Bayev explained to Ron, "Old Mike went mad several years ago and spouts nonsense everywhere."

So he was a lunatic. Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

He had genuinely thought Earth Planet could no longer contact Holy Terra.

That would have been a huge problem. What if it was some kind of Chaos incursion? Wouldn't they be finished?

"Spreading heretical words should be dealt with according to regulations, but he has served the family for over a century. He has taken blades for Grant blood and rendered great service."

Bayev continued, "So we had no choice but to arrange for him to guard the archive repository. It's full of Servitors here, so it doesn't matter if he chatters a little."

Grant House was rather humane after all...

Ron had no memories of Old Mike, so he could only nod.

After finishing, Bayev looked at Ron and asked, "What did you want Old Mike to do just now?"

Ron frowned. "I wanted to submit an appeal to Holy Terra. Earth Planet can hardly bear the taxes demanded by the Imperium."

In truth, Ron did not hold much hope for the appeal's outcome. He was merely giving it a try.

After all, changing a tax grade would mean the Administratum had made an error, and an Imperial official would need to take responsibility for it.

Making an Imperial official voluntarily step forward and accept responsibility was harder than reaching heaven.

They only needed to ignore the matter, or extend the approval process indefinitely.

Under administrative procedures lasting decades, centuries, or even longer, many errors required no accountability.

When Earth Planet naturally perished due to resource depletion, rebellion, or other causes, the matter would naturally come to an end.

The Imperium of Man had millions of planets, and its territory continued to expand. Every moment, planets were destroyed for one reason or another.

By the time the news reached Holy Terra, who knew how many years would have passed.

Earth Planet was merely an obscure, low-grade Hive World.

Even if it was destroyed, the deaths and suffering of tens of billions of people would amount to nothing more than a single line in an Administratum file.

Perhaps after being recorded, it would be sealed away forever, and no one would ever remember this planet or its people again.

Only then did Ron realize that he occupied such an important position. The decisions he made could affect the fate of tens of billions across the entire planet.

The crushing pressure made it hard for him to breathe.

What should he do?

"Governor, there is no need for us to appeal." Bayev's tone was certain.

"We have to at least try."

Ron was somewhat anxious. "Given the current situation, if the appeal fails, we may not be able to pay this quarter's taxes."

"Pay taxes?"

Bayev looked at Ron in surprise. "You mean paying the Imperial Tithe?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Have you forgotten something?"

Bayev's heart could not help but tighten. Since yesterday, the Governor had become very strange, as if he were a different person.

Seeing the other's reaction, Ron immediately understood. The absence of certain memories had caused his behavior to appear abnormal.

Where exactly had the problem arisen?

He hesitated over whether to reveal some of the situation and dispel the other's doubts.

That way, he could communicate openly with him in the future and avoid grave mistakes caused by the fog in his memories.

"Sir?"

Bayev looked at Ron worriedly, afraid that the last remaining bloodline of Grant House had truly developed some problem.

Ron came back to his senses and decided to be honest about some things. The longer this dragged on, the deeper the suspicions would grow.

"I have indeed forgotten some things." Ron pointed at his head. "It should be a side effect of awakening Psyker Power..."

Awakening Psyker Power meant communicating with the Warp. It was an exceedingly dangerous matter and often led to terrifying consequences.

For instance, loss of control over Psyker Power causing destruction, becoming bloodthirsty and murderous, or even being corrupted into a monster!

Merely losing some memories was relatively fortunate.

"Amnesia?"

Bayev nervously examined Ron. Only after a long while did he relax, saying with concern, "This is no simple matter. We need to ask Bishop Dony to examine you."

"No problem." Ron nodded and brought the conversation back to the main point. "Let's continue discussing the tax issue. What exactly has happened?"

Unexpectedly, Bayev dropped a bombshell.

"Actually, you needn't worry about taxes. We no longer need to pay them."

"What?"