I Am Mighty!

Zhou Yun used telekinesis to move the two gang members, who had been knocked unconscious by headbutts, into a corner behind the pipes.

He hadn't expected to run into two patrolling gang members right after crawling down here.

Thinking about it, his luck hadn't been great since he entered this derelict district.

First, he encountered a Genestealer cult, then got a splitting headache from being forced to drink, rode a shaky train, and halfway through, ran into two hooded men who seemed like heretics. Now, just as he entered Old Sector Eight, he bumped into two gang members.

Zhou Yun couldn't help but wonder if he was cursed.

Maybe he should find someone to divine his fortune with the Emperor Tarot.

"Why don't you let me divine it for you," said the winged figure in the white light.

"No thanks, I don't trust you," Zhou Yun shook his head.

However, the winged figure in the white light ruffled its feathers, and a pure white light appeared before Zhou Yun's eyes, transforming into a stack of thin cards.

These cards bore various divine and wondrous patterns, each seemingly possessing a unique symbolic meaning.

"Draw one."

"Isn't this still the Emperor Tarot?" Zhou Yun couldn't help but retort.

The Emperor Tarot was said to be a divination method designed by the Emperor himself, connected to his thoughts.

While Zhou Yun couldn't quite figure out why the Emperor would create such a superstitious, street-level tool, the Emperor Tarot was indeed one of the few reliable divination methods in the galaxy with minimal risk.

Even Space Marines, the Inquisition, and the Ecclesiarchy used the Emperor Tarot for divination, though their methods were far more refined.

Unlike most Hive City residents who simply drew a few cards from a stack of simple paper cards.

"Try drawing one," said the winged figure in the white light.

Zhou Yun firmly shook his head; even if it was the Emperor Tarot, he didn't want a Warp entity to divine for him.

"It's fine, I can draw one too," the winged figure in the white light wasn't angry.

He drew one himself and showed it to Zhou Yun.

"Hmm?"

It was a Major Arcana card, numbered 14, depicting an angel holding two small crucibles. The angel poured the liquid from the left crucible into the right one.

But what made Zhou Yun frown was that the angel on this Major Arcana card didn't have pure white wings; instead, it had a pair of festering, scaly wings.

"The upright meaning of this card signifies patience, and the reversed meaning signifies communication. A cooperation requiring patience and communication will bring you success."

The winged figure in the white light said in a low voice:

"And it secretly indicates that the object of your cooperation is guided by something of a higher order."

"Fourteen, which is two sevens," Zhou Yun mumbled.

Seven, Nurgle's holy number, combined with the crucibles and scaly wings—this wasn't a metaphor anymore, it was a clear hint.

Zhou Yun felt a prickling sensation on his scalp; he felt increasingly unlucky.

Suddenly, Zhou Yun heard footsteps.

He instinctively turned his head to look in the direction of the footsteps.

Around the corner of the pipe network, two figures cloaked in brown hoods emerged.

Monger was frustrated.

To prevent the future shown by the "angel" from coming true, he and his brother had risked danger, climbing up from the depths of the Hive and infiltrating this abandoned Old Sector Eight to find the location of the artifact that could open the gate.

However, the PDF outpost, which likely contained the location of the artifact, was apparently buried under collapsed rubble.

This made Monger anxious.

Unlike Monger's anxiety, his elder brother, Malkit, maintained the "patience" taught by the "angel."

This was perhaps why he was more favored.

Malkit decided to avoid the patrolling gang members for now.

He would use the corrosive digestive fluid bestowed upon him by the "angel" to corrode a passage to the PDF outpost from above it.

But this could take several days to complete, which Monger couldn't accept.

Even though the Governor now barely managed the lower levels, people like them were still unwelcome.

If they took too long, it would attract unnecessary trouble.

"Don't you understand? Our time is precious."

"We're not welcome up here; maybe someone will find us around the next corner, and then we'll— huh?"

As they passed a corner in the pipe network, Monger said to his brother Malkit.

However, before he could finish his sentence, Monger felt a gaze fall upon them.

He hurriedly turned his head and saw a man looking at him beside the pipes.

The man wore a ridiculous toy hat, but upon seeing the man's face, Monger couldn't bring himself to smile.

The deep face beneath the hat, a face with golden hair and a beard like a mighty lion's, a face as cold as frost.

Monger instinctively felt fear.

The moment he was stared at by those eyes embedded in that deep face, the deformed heart in his chest almost stopped beating.

He felt as if he saw a deep, dark, chilling forest in those eyes.

That forest was filled with shadows and corrupted beasts, countless dark, forbidden, unspeakable things slithered within it.

And the man before him seemed to have lived in this pitch-black forest, isolated from the human world, since the day he was born, hunting those blasphemous beasts.

Seeing Monger and the other man, the man frowned.

In an instant, Monger thought he saw a mighty lion lurking in the darkness, waiting to hunt the two brothers as prey.

Monger faintly heard "Angel's" terrified howl.

He wasn't like his elder brother, who could clearly hear "Angel's" guidance.

He could only hear fragmented, unclear sounds.

But he could also feel that "Angel's" exclamation was filled with fear and disbelief.

"Angel" was exclaiming some fragmented phrases.

"Lion!"

"The first!"

"Impossible!"

"So like him! So like him!"

"It's not him!! The build is wrong!"

"Angel" was terrified by that face! Just a face had thrown "Angel" into a panic.

Monger glanced at his elder brother.

He found that he seemed to be frozen in place due to "Angel's" exclamation.

Monger realized the danger.

He quickly reached for his waist, drew out the dagger with scarlet rust growing on it, and cut a wound on his wrist.

Blood filled with corrosive and toxic properties coated the dagger.

Holding the blood-stained dagger, Monger lunged at the stern-faced man without hesitation.

"Monger! Stop!" his elder brother's shout came from behind.

But Monger's eyes were only on the man with the ridiculous hat, who resembled a mighty lion.

The fingers on that ridiculous hat suddenly pointed at him.