Harvest

While the scene before them was brutal, at least the souls of these tortured Miners wouldn't be sacrificed to the demons of the Warp. In this universe, that was considered a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.

Yes, the galaxy was truly twisted. Sometimes, death wasn't an escape, but the beginning of all suffering.

Even the Emperor's Angels, who had fought for the Imperium for hundreds of years, could be chosen after death to become part of the Cursed Legion, their bodies engulfed in flames, carrying out the Emperor's commands in an increasingly chaotic galaxy to save this pitiful race.

"Gag!!!"

Sandman's pale face pressed against the wall as he vomited violently, feeling as though everything in his stomach was coming up. Even though he had mentally prepared himself and kept encouraging himself, after forcing himself to finish watching with Korax, he couldn't help but retch uncontrollably.

"Son of a bitch, this damned world! Gag!!!"

Sandman finally collapsed to his knees, his throat making a choking sound as if an invisible hand were squeezing his stomach.

All that came out in the end was bile, splattering on the ground like a bowl of sticky paint, its acrid stench assaulting Sandman's nose and mouth!

Korax, on the other hand, was faring much better.

The Primarch's already snow-white skin had become even paler, but otherwise, there was little difference. He was currently patting Sandman's back with his palm, helping him regulate his breathing.

At this moment, Korax felt that he and the leader of this camp were truly in the same boat.

"Nekser, clean up, burn this place down, and let's go." Sandman, finally catching his breath, wiped the sour-smelling stomach fluid from his mouth and nose. He then grabbed a handful of crushed ore dust to wash his hands and said.

"Korax, help me out..." After vomiting, Sandman was completely drained of strength...

"You yellow-skinned bastard, you damn son of a bitch, one day I'll tie you up in the Warp and let S.K.T watch as N rapes you!!!!" Sandman cursed the damned yellow-skinned bastard with vicious thoughts, but he could only spew them internally.

He had figured it out by now.

His transmigration wasn't an accident; it was the work of the toughest guy in this universe.

He suspected that the skeleton on the Golden Throne, ten thousand years in the future, had gone mad and was now recruiting indiscriminately, throwing people around everywhere, and had dumped him onto Lycaeus.

The Emperor of 30k, though powerful, was only powerful in the material universe. He wasn't so outrageously powerful as to recruit in this manner.

But even so, he only dared to mutter his curses inwardly. He didn't dare to utter the names of so many "great" High Heavens at once, nor could he speak such explosive content.

Otherwise, his fate would be unimaginably tragic. This was a universe where thoughts and words held power. Apart from the three who were merely watching the show, the Emperor and the Benevolent Father would definitely make him experience a fate worse than death.

In the future, he would still have to grovel and beg the Emperor for his care as a fellow countryman...

As for why he didn't declare himself king, punch the Emperor, and kick the four minor deities?

Wake up, would you? Ask a normal person to fight a world boxing champion in the ring...

For now, he needed to properly nurture Korax. In the future, even if he couldn't inherit this vast Imperium, he could at least be a stable regional lord...

What if others thought he was spineless? That a transmigrator should be an overbearing protagonist, using their own script to conquer the world, and that his actions were a disgrace to transmigrators?

People needed to be realistic. For example, if you want to be president, can you first get into the civil service?

Take on jobs commensurate with your abilities; this was the hard-earned conclusion Sandman had drawn after being a beast of burden for so long in his past life.

When there were big shots leading the charge above, he could cheer from the sidelines and pick up scraps from behind.

For a few thousand yuan a month, why risk his life...

He was just a humble individual from a peaceful world and couldn't possibly undergo a complete transformation upon entering a new one.

This was the true journey of a small fry...

"Hoo hoo hoo... Finally out!" Sandman greedily inhaled the fresh air outside, his nostrils flaring as he breathed like a fish on the verge of death.

Watching the raging flames surge from the entrance of the mine tunnel, the group silently began their journey back to the camp, facing the dawn's light.

What could have been a battle lasting several days had ended with a night of long-distance travel and less than an hour of combat.

This left the members of the Shadow Kill in a state of bewilderment. It was mainly because the mission had ended too quickly. With the cooperation of Sandman and Korax, their group seemed to have become dispensable.

Even Nekser began to wonder if he was too weak.

The group traveled in silence, the only sounds being the occasional clash of firearms and weapons, and their numbers were steadily decreasing.

After every stretch of distance, a few people would leave the group to continue their original missions.

Although it was a wasted trip, at least there were no casualties. As long as they were alive, there was infinite hope.

Since Sandman became the leader of the camp, life had become more promising. They were now able to take time off from work, something unimaginable for many camps on Lycaeus.

"Boss, the spoils have been tallied. This time, we seized a total of 20 short-barreled Laser Guns, 15 Stun Guns, enough Corpse Starch for five hundred people for a week, a batch of medicine, and several melee weapons..." Upon returning to the camp, Nekser reported the spoils to Sandman.

"They had quite the nerve. These people must have raided at least two batches of armed Overseers." Sandman remarked.

He wouldn't say anything else, but the Stun Gun alone was an illegal item for Miners. If caught, the entire camp would be wiped out, let alone Laser Guns.

Fortunately, all these items now belonged to him.

Sandman wasn't foolish enough to keep these contraband items in the camp; it would be like carrying a lantern while going to the toilet – asking for trouble.

All the contraband belonging to The Saviors was stored separately in another abandoned mine tunnel, guarded by people regularly, so there was no need to worry about anyone stumbling upon their secret.

"Most importantly, these parasites even collected a batch of medicine. That's truly remarkable," Nekser chimed in.

On Lycaeus, the scarcity of medicine was self-evident. The importance of medicine was even higher than that of food.

The Overseers on Lycaeus also maintained very strict control over this matter.