The Vanguard of Giving Up, Angron

Ever since being brought to the Abomination with Angron, Yochuka felt like he was in heaven, and the first thing he did every morning when he opened his eyes was to check if he was dreaming.

For 14-year-old Nuceria, everything on the Abomination was exciting, especially the exceptionally delicious food, which made him wonder if some kind of magical substance had been added.

But all of this is nonsense; the deliciousness is entirely due to the ingredients Atlas chose.

Thanks to Icarus's presence, the Abomination, despite being a 25-kilometer-long Glorious Earth-class battleship, was remarkably clean and tidy, unlike other Imperial ships, thanks to its high level of automation.

Mordred didn't care about anyone else, but for any Atlas ship, cleanliness was always the top priority. Anyone who dared to dirty the floor would be met with the Riot Squad.

This isn't Mordred deliberately acting crazy; it's simply that in this universe, being unhygienic can attract bad things. Rather than getting into a physical fight with the Nurgle sprites later, it's better to take precautions and prevent potential problems from arising in advance.

How to prevent crew members from going mad during voyages has always been an important research topic for the Empire, and Mordred's answer was to ensure that the crew members were well-fed and well-hydrated.

To ensure the quality of their meals, Atlas's cooks had to undergo five years of systematic training and obtain professional certification before they could take up their posts.

But taking office doesn't mean you can just coast along; at the very least, you need to have exceptional fighting skills to ensure you can outmaneuver the vegetables on the farm.

Yes, Atlas's recipes include a large number of plants and animals from Serenity and Catachan, which have always been kept in the ship's lower-level farms.

There are even some livestock that are raised as hydroponic meat, such as the sharks that Mordred spends a great deal of effort to raise. Not only are they extremely delicious, but eating them can also detoxify and beautify the skin, ensuring that you won't feel tired all day. They can even be kept as ornamental fish.

So if you want to have a good meal, you have to be a tough guy. Even if you have Space Marine with you while you're picking, you might still end up being eaten by the plants as a snack if you're not careful.

Yochuka, who has survived to this day in Nuceria, is undoubtedly a tough guy in the making. When he saw the Dog-men chef grabbing Great Cleaver and hacking at the vegetables with such passion, he instantly developed an infinite longing for the profession of chef.

"I want to be a chef!" That was Yochuka's goal at that moment.

As the saying goes, gold shines wherever it is. Naturally, Casca, the Dog-men Chieftain and then head chef of Atlas, would not let go of this naturally gifted but foolish young man.

But the Dog-men weren't like Atlas and his gang of bastards who got Koz drunk. With Yochuka's small frame, he probably wouldn't even last half a day in the kitchen before being eaten by vegetables.

In the end, they could only assign him the job of running errands and delivering meals, making him a glorious errand boy.

As he searched back and forth through twists and turns, Yochuka, was incredibly excited. This was his first job, and he had to take it seriously!

After confirming the location was correct, Yochuka politely knocked on the skull on the door, and after a red light scan, spoke:

"Are you the 'Ultimate Invincible Tyrannosaurus Warrior who uses the secret weapon, the Giant Durian, Webway force the Rome's She-Wolf to kneel down and call him 'Daddy'?'"

Seeing no response, Yochuka, who was almost out of breath, was very confused as to why anyone would choose such an abstract name. However, out of his professionalism, he read it aloud again, but still no one responded.

"Could he be dead? Yeah, someone who could come up with a name like that is obviously not a normal person. Maybe he accidentally killed himself with his stupidity."

Just as Yochuka was about to repeat it for the third time, the door suddenly opened, and a thick tentacle appeared, pulling him and the food cart inside.

The young man, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, tried to shout for help, but he was too tightly bound by the tentacles to speak. Then he saw Angron lying on the Operating Table, looking incredibly embarrassed and only able to play dead.

And a brooding, blond giant with a menacing expression, whose entire form is made of countless tentacles!

"Hey kid, I think I just heard you say my ID was stupid, didn't you?"

"No, Your Highness, you must have misheard. This name is anything but stupid; it's wonderful!"

But Mordred, driven by a mischievous impulse, only wanted to have some fun and wouldn't listen to any explanations. He grabbed a bowl of cherry and cheese dumplings and tried to swallow them whole, while also extending a tentacle to lick Yochuka's panicked little head.

"Slurp, this smells like a lie. You must be lying. I hate people who lie to me the most. I'll just use you as a dipping sauce for these dumplings."

Your meat must be extremely tender.

Upon hearing that he was to be eaten, the young man trembled violently, his legs shaking so badly he almost ran away, regretting that he had come to deliver the food.

"Boss Angron, say something! I'm Yochuka, your good brother Yochuka! Ribbit! I don't want to be a chef anymore, someone save me!"

"Hehe, no matter how much you scream, no one will come to save you. Just accept your fate and be my dessert."

The mournful and poignant sound reverberated throughout the laboratory; anyone could hear that there was no embellishment whatsoever, only a profound love for life.

After playing with him for a full half hour, Mordred realized that if she kept teasing him, the young man might be ruined, so she casually tossed him out of the lab.

"Second Brother, Yochuka still young, isn't what you're doing wrong?"

"Tch, I'm an Imperial Warmaster. I can do whatever I want. Without a strong mentality and no spirit at all, how could you possibly become a chef for Atlas?"

Instead of worrying about others, think about your own future. This damn Butcher's Nail has practically grown into your brain.

And there are two of them! I suspect you'd die instantly if you took these things out.

Upon hearing this, Angron stopped chuckling, picked up a plate of dumplings, and began to devour them.

Whether it's the Nail of Ecstasy or the Butcher's Nail, they are essentially modified plugins passed down from the Dark Age of Technology. Just like the power of the Nine Dragons Pulling Coffin, this thing is not meant to be used on humans. Even if you have a pointy head, you can't withstand it.

If it were just any ordinary thing, Mordred would be confident that with her superb skills, she could remove the nails from Angron's brain. But the current situation is that the two nails have completely replaced parts of Angron's brain, and they are also mixed with Psychic Power elements.

The history of the Butcher's Nail is completely unverifiable. Mordred speculates that it was likely a modification plug-in used on Stone Men.

Although it's called a nail, it's more like a biochemical implant, with parts of its structure already distributed throughout Angron's body, much like the lymphatic system.

When Mordred cut open Angron's brain, preparing to physically remove the nail cables, the Primarch's powerful regenerative ability became an obstacle; what was cut grew back faster than what was cut, and more and more appeared.

"Eat, eat, all you know is eating! We're almost at Terra. If even the Yellow Skins can't handle it, just you wait and see. That Dogs and Donkeys will definitely open your eyes."

Based on his understanding of the Emperor, Mordred was certain that if Angron's problem wasn't properly resolved, he would be discarded as a expendable asset on the Great Crusade.

Unlike Mordred, who knew what a despicable creature the Emperor was, he had only ever seen Atlas and the Ultramarines.

In terms of Morality standards, these were already among the top two legions in the empire, to the point that Angron, who enjoyed brotherly affection, believed that the Emperor must also be a Good Father.

"I don't believe it. Father definitely loves me! He must be a perfect Good Father. Even if you're my Second Brother, I won't allow you to say such things about Father."

Mordred was so angry that he laughed when he heard this fool dare to contradict him. Only the Emperor hadn't openly broken ties with the Four Merchants yet; they were still in a creditor-investor relationship.

Whenever the Great Crusade achieves significant results, the Golden Giant instantly turns his back on everyone. He's the person with the lowest reputation score in the entire galaxy; he can treat you like a tool. Good Father? Good my ass!

The Primarch created through a joint investment between the Emperor and the Four Gods after a deal. No matter how much the Primarch is brainwashed with Imperial Truth, it is still a product of the Warp.

There will inevitably be Primarchs entering Chaos; this is an unchangeable fact.

As the Great Crusade progresses, humanity has seen a surge in Psyker, and this number will only increase in the future; no one can make Psyker disappear completely.

Don't be fooled by the fact that high-level Psyker can move mountains and fill seas with a wave of their hand, and seem incredibly powerful like Greater Daemon. That's just an illusion; in essence, they're just a tube of warp Warp.

In other worlds, mages can have an incredibly fun time, whether they use mana bars, spell slots, or even innate talents, bloodlines, or superpowers.

In the Warhammer World, Psyker have it incredibly tough. They're practically dancing on their own graves, and one wrong move and they'll be caught by Daemon and taken back to be Star Slaves!

In this scenario, the Empire's connection with the Warp will only grow stronger, and the Four Merchants will have an increasing number of pieces at their disposal.

"Angron, you think too highly of Old Man Huang. Those two nails on your head already represent two Chaos God."

"Don't even mention that scumbag Yellow Skins, even I would think about making use of trash. You're a ticking time bomb, you never know when you'll explode. I don't think you understand anything at all."

One look is all it takes to identify this as Imperial Kenji!

Angron was speechless after being berated by his older brother, but no matter how Mordred explained, the unfortunate fellow remained stubbornly unmoved, not listening to a word he said.

"Second Brother, I suspect you may have suffered some kind of trauma. The Emperor is our father, and even if he wasn't perfect, I can understand that."

But are you sure that thing you're talking about is a normal person? I don't believe the Emperor is as despicable as you describe.

When he got emotional, Angron even spontaneously composed a short poem, saying he would give it to the Emperor as a gift when he met him.

Mordred finally understood. No wonder the Khorne had put the nail back in after pulling it out; even he would think this piece of trash was hopeless.

Mordred decided to wait and see. He wanted to see what kind of expression Angron would have when he saw the Emperor in person. Seeing his good brother suddenly ignoring him and instead fiddling with a huge syringe, Angron suddenly felt uneasy, as if something bad was about to happen.

"Second Brother, can't we talk this out? Put that thing down. We gentlemen use words, not fists. You can't resort to violence just because you can't win an argument. By the way, what's in this syringe? It looks so familiar!"

"It looks familiar, that's the anesthetic."

"Anesthetic?"

"That's right, and it's even a specialty of Nuceria."