Sexy Angel, Performing Online

A plasma spark tower expert once said, "A ship must be able to launch, and people must be well-fed."

The problem now is that the Baal people are starving, and even the Blood Angels are struggling to make ends meet.

It's not that the Blood Angels are truly starving; it's that their weaponry is lax, and they don't have anything of note to offer.

They were only slightly better than the surviving members of the Eleventh Legion.

Once Cannon Fodder Regiment, always Cannon Fodder Regiment. The Cannon Fodder Regiment's job is simply to fill in the gaps during the Great Crusade, while the officials in the rear Department of the Munitorum have much more to think about.

With 18 main imperial Expeditionary Force, 2,436 fleets, three joint commanders, and Mordred, the Anthropomorphic Warmaster who dislikes everyone and only knows how to confiscate property, the officials in the Department of the Munitorum are having a tough time.

Of the three commanders, the Emperor is the Monarch and must be fully supported; Horus is the Crown Prince and must also be supported; and the remaining one, Ferrus, is Mars VIP, enjoying the treatment of a father.

The Forge World something out of thin air.

The priority will definitely be the supply of the main force, serving the untouchable Big Daddy the best tea first. As for the remaining little Khala, they'll just have some high-brow liquor to quench their thirst.

There's even a tacit agreement within the Empire that unless there's complete cooperation with the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Primarch's return to the Legion is tantamount to an automatic separation, and everything must be done strictly according to official procedures.

This was an incentive method devised by the Emperor, this Golden Giant, which was very humane and had a similar advanced concept to the King Zhou's enfeoffment of feudal lords.

Don't think Mordred is being sarcastic. Feudalism is already extremely advanced in the Empire. Some worlds are still in primitive tribal societies. You never know how many Throne Gelt a wildling's shell is worth.

To rid the Legion of its infamy and to stop it from acting erratically, the Great Angel devised a plan to suppress its Black Thirst through art and culture.

Not only do they have to draw blood every day and give several hours of ideological and political lectures, but some troubled children also need one-on-one tutoring to severely correct their bloodthirsty nature.

But even a skilled cook can't cook without rice; ideological and political education can be taught however one wants, but when it Angel Farming are a complete mess.

Fortunately, Mordred's Second Brother is incredibly wealthy; he can easily afford to support her on just one or two planets.

"Ninth Brother Second Brother, I'm not kidding you. I have a way to make you rich, but at least enough to cover your daily expenses. It just depends on whether you're sincere."

The Great Angel was sincere, but he wanted to earn money honestly and didn't want to sacrifice his virtue.

Sanguinius was extremely conflicted as he looked at the strange clothes offered to him by the Dog-men maid.

"Brother, maybe we should just forget about it. I'll just work for you from now on. This is just too shameful. I don't believe anyone would enjoy watching this."

"Why not! How will you know if you don't try? Get to work, you've already done your makeup, what are you talking about?"

If the response is good, I'll immediately assemble a fleet to assist with the reconstruction in Baal. You don't want the people on your homeworld to suffer because of you, do you?

1

After saying this, Mordred took out a list and placed it in front of the Sanguinius. Looking at the aid plan that covered almost the entirety of Baal, Sanguinius hesitated.

"Could you censor it with a mosaic?"

"Enough with the nonsense. If you blur my face, who's going to know who you are? But then again, a little concealment adds to the charm. Here, put this on!"

A Silly was thrown in front of the Sanguinius. Looking at this monstrous thing, Sanguinius felt it would be better to show his face, but since things had come to this, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.

Soon, with the launch of a Live Broadcast room called Angel Idol on the Divine Seal Network, more and more users flocked to it.

"Hello everyone, I'm Primarch, who has Two and a half years of practice. This is my first personal account."

It's no joke that Everyone Loves the Archangel; with Sanguinius' appearance alone, he attracted a lot of attention as soon as he appeared.

With Mordred's hired online trolls campaigning for votes, the entire Divine Seal Network user base turned their attention to this.

After all, this is Primarch, a true Young God. You rarely see one, and even if you did, you'd have to think twice before you were killed.

Sure enough, the pervert Mordred had marked appeared instantly and started showering people with virtual gifts.

"Ah, Sanguinius, Sanguinius, I love you so much!"

As gifts flooded the screen, War God 88 immediately became the Top Gifter and gained access to Sanguinius' chat.

"Welcome War God 88 to the Live Broadcast! Yes, I love you too!"

Sanguinius, who was putting on a bright smile, felt a wave of nausea, but making money was no big deal, so he immediately began his witty banter, emphasizing his Aloof Dog Walking.

But the Khorne fall for that. The Sanguinius is their White Moonlight; if they were to become completely subservient to him just because of a small gift, wouldn't that House Collapse?

However, before they could exchange more than a few words, three more tycoons made a dazzling appearance, and it was easy to guess who they were.

The Great Angel, brimming with social skills, wasn't intimidated at all. He sang and performed for money, chatting casually every now and then. Everyone could tell he cared about me.

In just ten minutes of Live Broadcast, the back-end received an astronomical amount of virtual currency in donations, and the source of this virtual currency was only one thing: recharging with Atlas's Chaos Energy Crystal.

Within the Sea of Souls surrounding the Serenity, a Chaos Star rests. If the Dark Angels were to see it, they would surely recognize what it is: the Battle Moon that the Randan Xenos dragged into the Warp Atlas.

But at this moment, it's a scene of utter chaos, with countless souls being thrown into the Chaos Energy Furnace to provide their gods with something to boast about.

To further extract even more value, Atlas ingeniously offered Comprador Business, allowing them to use abandoned spaceships lost in the Warp as collateral for a discount.

Once a person takes a shortcut, they can no longer work hard step by step. Looking at the back-end transaction, the Great Angel's mindset underwent a slight change.

Second Brother, I feel like I'm dreaming. Is all of this mine?

"What? Yours? You must be joking. Only 20% of this is yours."

"Only 20%?"

"Twenty percent is quite a lot." Mordred opened the Pip-Boy and pointed to the data, explaining:

"This business isn't just involving our two legions; you take two, I take three, and the remaining half is Protection Fee."

For reasons that cannot be disclosed, these assets need to be processed later and cannot be put into use immediately. I just earned a hard-earned living.

I can't reveal more details; it's a very complex situation, and you can't possibly control it. Just stick to being Virtual Idol."

Sanguinius seemed to understand who the protective umbrella was, but even so, the portion allocated to him was enough for the Blood Angels to accumulate initial wealth.

Only Atlas can use the Demon Slave, and the space wreckage is practically a mystery box. Mordred wasn't lying; Atlas really does earn his money through hard work.

Mordred, engrossed in calculating data, turned her head and met the Great Angel's rather strange, longing gaze:

"Second Brother, now that I've shown my face in public, could I—"

"Don't worry, 1.8 million units of advance supplies will be delivered immediately. It's time to show you Atlas's air transport capabilities."

But would you be interested in taking it a step further and joining our brotherhood's mutual aid and hobby club?

Having said all that, how could the Great Angel refuse? He immediately expressed his strong desire to improve, but wondered what the enthusiast group should be called.

"Of course, it's my Second Imperium!"