Your day of ascension too?

Promethium burned in the boilers, turning into electricity that lit the dim yellow lights, illuminating the blocks shrouded by layers of buildings.

Wildly grown stalls squeezed the roads, and swill, garbage, oil, and other waste invaded the road. Zhou Yun tried his best to avoid these filth, weaving through the stalls.

Cooking oil splashed out in fishy yellow sparks, and sizzling meat skewers tumbled on the stove. Beside the stove sat fat candies boiled from lead cans. Although they contained chronic toxins, they were also one of the few sources of sweetness in the city.

Zhou Yun ordered two greasy meat skewers and stuffed them into his mouth. If one didn't dwell on the origin of the meat, it was quite good food.

He took out two cheap lho cigarettes from his pocket and threw them into an oil-stained can on the stall.

Then, he followed the narrow street westward, passing through arches made of scrap metal and the crowded masses, arriving at a three-way intersection.

At the three corners of the intersection stood three towering stone statues carved from bluestone. They pierced through layers of crowded and chaotic buildings, like three blades cutting through the hive city.

The identities of two of the stone statues had long been forgotten. Some said they were the first Imperial Cultists to preach on planet Asphodel, while others said they were the first two patriarchs of the Governor Flax family.

But no matter which version was true, after the long passage of time, it was impossible to verify.

Neither the cultists nor the governors could withstand the erosion of ten thousand years.

Only the third stone statue, the tallest and most sacred one, could make any resident of the Imperium recite its divine name with piety at a single glance.

Faint scarlet sunlight streamed down from above the stone statue, casting onto its unfurled wings, the long spear it held, and its face that held both mercy and solemnity.

Sanguinius, the demigod son of the Emperor, Lord of the Ninth Legion, the Archangel of the Imperium.

But Zhou Yun wasn't here to admire the heroic posture of the Sanguinius statue; he was here for the small tavern beneath its spear tip.

At the location pointed to by Sanguinius's sharp spear, there was a simple shed built from pulp wood and quick-setting concrete.

On the sign hanging from the shed, a cup filled with red wine was painted, and next to it was the name of the tavern: Sharp Spear.

Before Zhou Yun even entered, he could hear the sounds of shouting and cursing from inside the tavern.

The wooden door of the tavern was kicked open by a group of people. They wore clothes common to hive city workers and dragged out a thin man with an ugly gray face, who also had the local gang's rat mark tattooed on his face.

"Rag, did you fucking eat mutant shit?"

The hive city worker at the front cursed, punching the ugly-faced gang member's head repeatedly.

Zhou Yun glanced at the scene and saw the gang member extend his hand towards him, crying out, "Brother Zhou Yun, Old Brother Zhou Yun, save me!"

While begging for help, he didn't forget to issue threats: "This is my brother Zhou Yun. He has influence with our gang leader. You guys just wait!"

The hive city workers stopped their assault and all looked up at Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun shrugged and kicked the gang member's head.

"Beat me up too. I'll buy you drinks later."

Hearing that there would be drinks, the workers let out a cheer and hit the gang member's head with even more force.

Zhou Yun pushed open the tavern door and walked to the bar.

Behind the bar was the owner of the Sharp Spear bar, a blind, burly man.

It was said that he had gone to the upper hive once through less-than-legal means and lost an eye there. People nearby called him Old One-Eye.

This name always reminded Zhou Yun of that infamous Tyranid executioner.

"Cigarette? Drink?" Old One-Eye asked, a lho cigarette in his mouth.

Lho cigarettes weren't real tobacco. They were actually a byproduct of promethium industry, essentially an addictive anesthetic with tobacco flavoring. Inhaling too much could also cause blindness.

However, they were cheap and could temporarily make people forget their dark lives. They could also relieve the unbearable high-pressure work for hive city workers, naturally becoming a necessity and even currency for many in the city.

Under Augustus Flax's neglect, the order in the lower levels of the city had long collapsed, comparable to Gotham City in 2k.

It's just that although that governor also lost his parents early on, he wouldn't put on a perverted tight suit and become a dark vigilante.

Often, lho cigarettes were more useful than the currency issued by the governor.

So Zhou Yun waved his hand, signaling Old One-Eye to get him a drink.

Old One-Eye wiped a not-so-clean glass and pushed a glass of scarlet bubbling liquid towards Zhou Yun.

This was of course not expensive red wine, but homemade liquor brewed by Old One-Eye himself from promethium industry waste.

It might have even had some strange ingredients added, possibly a lot of "science and grit."

However, after spending so many days in the hive city, Zhou Yun had long learned to ignore what he didn't see.

As long as he didn't know the recipe, he could drink a large glass without flinching or turning red.

"What the hell did that bastard Rag do this time? Something involving mutants?" Zhou Yun asked, glancing at the gang member being beaten outside.

That guy was called Rag, a low-level member of the Underhive Rat Gang. He was also the one who sold the location of that abandoned district to Zhou Yun.

"Who knows? He's always asking for a beating, so let him get one."

Old One-Eye said, holding his cigarette:

"The God-Emperor teaches us honesty, but he probably will never learn it."

Zhou Yun nodded in agreement.

"Oh, any new news these past couple of days?" he asked after downing half a glass of the scarlet liquid.

"Fresh news, a scavenger found the abandoned Sector Eight."

Old One-Eye replied:

"Oh, news from the adjacent sector. The Ark Gang, which has recently risen to prominence, has taken over the neighboring sector."

"Ark Gang," Zhou Yun muttered. He seemed to recall the Genestealer, smashed into a bug pancake, muttering that name.

And so, Zhou Yun recalled information about the Ark Gang from his mind.

It was a gang with a touch of religious fervor that had emerged in recent years. It originally made its fortune far from Zhou Yun's sector and had only recently expanded nearby.

It was said that the gang leader was a devout follower of the Emperor, claiming to be bringing down punishment upon evil-doers in the Emperor's name.

He also claimed that devils among the stars were about to extend their claws towards Asphodel, intending to devour the entire planet.

Only by joining the Ark Gang and forging an ark to the stars could one ascend and be redeemed when the devils among the stars descended.

Huh.

Zhou Yun paused slightly.

He carefully savored those words.

Ark, the Emperor's guidance, the day of descent, ascension, and redemption—this was too much like a premonition.

Could this Ark Gang be a front for a Genestealer cult?

Zhou Yun's eye twitched slightly as he began contemplating fleeing and moving.

Just then, a wail sounded from outside the door.

"Brother Zhou Yun, how could you leave me to die!"

Zhou Yun punched the ugly face.

That's all for today. I'm off to paint some Tyranids.