Hunger

The place where Sandman and his group lived was a mining pit blasted out by a Mining Nuke. The mines of all sizes across Lycaeus had been blasted out by Mining Nukes, and the miners had built settlement after settlement within them.

They were settlements, but they were also cages that imprisoned them.

As the leader of the largest nearby camp, Sandman's residence stood at the very center of the mining pit. Unlike the ordinary miners' dwellings, it was a massive three-story stone building with relatively complete facilities.

With all kinds of building materials in short supply, this large structure was a "fortress" built over generations by the miners who lived here, accumulated bit by bit to ward off all manner of dangers.

Not only was it Sandman's residence, it also stored the emergency food reserves and various supplies the group had painstakingly exchanged for with ore.

There was no shortage of talented people among the miners. If necessary, this place could be expanded further, but Sandman had no intention of spending his entire life mining here.

"Grrr..."

"Food, food. I'm starving to death..." Back in his room, Sandman rubbed his stomach. After a day of labor, his stomach had long been protesting furiously, burning with pain. More terrifyingly, Sandman had already grown accustomed to it.

Every cell in his body was protesting to his stomach, demanding to know why it had not been supplied with nutrients. His stomach could only keep secreting acid to digest everything within it while urging his brain to eat quickly.

Sandman took out a black, unidentified object roughly two fingers wide and the length of his palm. He carefully cut off a third of it with a knife, then placed the remaining two-thirds of the Corpse Starch into a large bowl containing half a bowl of water to soak.

Next, with great reluctance, he took out a piece of smoked, unidentifiable beast meat. He cut off a piece around a third the size of the Corpse Starch and held it in his mouth, continually sucking on the slightly salty, fishy meat to soothe his stomach.

Normally, he would never have allowed himself such extravagance. Only because he had mined Raw Adamantium Ore today did Sandman dare indulge himself. On ordinary days, he ate only about a third of a portion of Corpse Starch.

Corpse Starch was an industrial byproduct of promethium refining. Once soaked, it became a paste-like food. As for the taste, it was not exactly inedible—not quite like chewing wax. It hovered on the edge between disgusting and tolerable. It got its name from the pungent stench it gave off, like a rotting corpse.

Do not think this stuff could be found everywhere just because it tasted terrible. In the Warhammer universe, Corpse Starch was one of the standard supplies of the Astra Militarum. Most hive-city residents could not even afford it. The scavengers of the hive cities ate Starch Blocks, which were produced in greater quantities and tasted even worse.

Kiavahr beneath Lycaeus was an industrial world that produced these two industrial byproducts in great quantities. Fortunately, Tower had no plans to replace Corpse Starch with Starch Blocks for now.

"Damn slave masters, just you wait. Once I take this place over, I'll make you eat this stuff every day until you puke!!" Sandman cursed as he fought back the pungent stench of decay.

Even after transmigrating here for so long, he still could not stand the smell. What made Sandman even more helpless was that he found his nose had begun slowly adapting to the stench!

"Something's wrong. Ninety percent wrong out of a hundred!!" Sandman frowned after wolfing down all the Corpse Starch.

He found that this amount had always been enough to fill his ravenous stomach, yet now it had only left him half full.

"Could I really be having a second spring? Or is some Chaos Daemon messing with me?"

"No. I don't have psychic powers, and I haven't heard any whispers." Sandman dismissed the possibility that some Warp evil had bewitched him.

"At this rate, won't I go bankrupt?" Feeling the food in his stomach being constantly digested, Sandman immediately sensed disaster.

Sandman realized that the food he had just eaten had already been almost completely digested. When he thought of Lycaeus's godawful exchange rates for supplies, his face darkened.

"Could I starve to death before Korax even gets here?" Sandman irritably scratched the back of his head.

"Boss, everyone's here. What are your orders?" An's enormous head suddenly poked in, interrupting Sandman's thoughts.

As for why An did not knock? Where was he supposed to find a door here?

"Have everyone gather in the hall. I'll be there shortly." Sandman temporarily set all these troubles aside. He needed to arrange the organization's affairs for tomorrow.

As the headquarters of The Saviors, the so-called hall was merely a somewhat larger room. Aside from a stone table, there were several stone stools inside.

On Lycaeus, where all sorts of resources were scarce, stone had become an important thing closely tied to the miners' lives.

The Saviors was a large miners' organization. The mining area under its control was the very area blasted out by the Mining Nuke where they were now located.

From this area, the miners began digging deeper inward.

Aside from pickaxes, there were also several large mining machines. However, activating these large machines consumed enormous amounts of energy, so unless absolutely necessary, the miners still relied more often on the pickaxes in their hands.

At the very least, when a pickaxe battery ran out, miners only needed to exchange the depleted battery for a freshly charged one. That applied only to pickaxes, of course. It was one of the few scraps of conscience the slave masters on Kiavahr possessed.

The fuels required for the other large machines had to be exchanged for with minerals, and those damned overseers only allowed precious metals to be used in exchange!

After all, they could not possibly make miners dig with their bare hands...

In the hall, several burly men in short linen shirts were chatting and boasting with one another.

The miners' exposed arms bulged with muscle, solid as the roots of ancient trees. Every muscle was packed with strength, while their rough palms were covered in creases and calluses.

Their skin had the sickly pallor of people who had gone without sunlight for years. Unlike the numb, lifeless people elsewhere on Lycaeus, these miners' eyes were filled with longing for life and freedom.

"Holy shit, the boss got another piece of Raw Adamantium Ore today. Does that mean we're about to hit an Adamantite Ore vein? We're rich." Agapito Nef, whose face was covered in a thick beard, immediately grew excited upon hearing what An said.

It meant the organization could expand more quickly. Even if it did not expand, it could still improve the miners' lives, especially those of the elderly, the weak, women, and children.

Mining on Lycaeus had continued for countless years. The miners thrown in here to dig for all sorts of reasons had formed family after family. The Raven King's older sister, Ephrenia, had been born and raised on Lycaeus.

"The boss said we might have found an Adamantite Ore vein." An smiled as he explained to everyone.

"If the boss says so, then it's probably true. But that makes the next problem much more complicated!" Brani Nef was not so optimistic.

A new Adamantite Ore vein involved far too many things.