For the Green Soup

But that didn't mean they were safe.

Rovi rose to his feet and looked over the headless body in black robes.

There was also a pool of blood on the carpet, already giving off a foul stench.

It was the blood of a Follower of Nurgle.

Even with its owner dead, the Warp Virus in the blood remained active.

If left alone, this office would soon become a breeding ground for fungi and pustules.

A few Nurglings might even emerge.

They were pests far more troublesome than rats.

"Buck."

"Yes, Advisor."

The One-Eyed Commander was turning over the dagger confiscated from the man in black robes, looking disgusted.

"Don't touch that thing unless you want your hand to rot off." Rovi glanced at him, his tone flat.

"Send someone to the Repair Workshop and ask Priest Alpha for two barrels of 'Holy Purge'—that is, industrial bleach mixed with Promethium Fuel at a high concentration."

"That much trouble?" Buck froze for a moment.

"If we don't deal with it this way, whatever grows here in a few days will eat everyone in the entire Executive Council building."

Rovi walked to the corner.

"Also, notify everyone to seal off the Ventilation Ducts on this floor. I don't want spores drifting into my coffee."

He paused, then added:

"Tell the outside world we're conducting a necessary ritual to cleanse the bad luck left behind by Supervisor Kase."

"Understood." Buck shuddered and tossed the dagger far away. "Then... what about the people downstairs? They've been standing there for an hour."

Rovi walked to the window.

Through the thick bulletproof glass, the plaza below was packed with people.

Fifty thousand newly armed farmhands stood like a crowd of silent statues.

They held sickles, wrenches, and even spears sharpened from steel pipes.

They were a dangerous force.

Guided well, they would be the most efficient production machines;

left unchecked, they would become a flood capable of overturning the entire base of the Hive City.

"They're not waiting for me. They're waiting for a future they can count on."

Rovi straightened his collar.

It was only an ordinary Defense Force coat, but he wore it with care, making sure every button was fastened in the right place.

In this chaotic world, appearances were an extension of order.

"Come on. Let's go to the balcony. It's time to put an end to this 'coup.'"

The third-floor terrace of the Executive Council building faced the plaza below.

Kase had once used it to inspect his private troops and indulge his vanity.

The railing was still coated with a thin layer of gold leaf.

Though now, it had been corroded by acid rain and was mottled and worn.

When Rovi appeared on the terrace, a stir ran through the crowd, which had been dead silent.

It wasn't cheering, but an uneasy murmur.

Rovi didn't rush to speak.

He walked up to the loudspeaker and tapped its rusted casing.

"Bzzzt."

A shrill burst of static instantly drowned out the murmuring crowd.

Rovi frowned.

He pulled a small bottle of lubricant from his pocket and dripped some into the gap around the loudspeaker's dial, muttering:

"Praise the Machine God. May this sacred oil soothe your temper."

Of course, it wasn't a prayer. It was just routine machine maintenance.

But to the people watching, it looked like a mysterious ritual performed by someone bearing the title of Tech-Priest.

The static subsided.

Rovi leaned on the railing and looked down at fifty thousand pairs of dark brown eyes, full of fear, hunger, and confusion.

He didn't wave or offer a warm smile.

His expression was as hard as rock.

"I am Rovi."

His voice echoed over the plaza through the loudspeaker, metallic and clear.

"I know what you're worried about."

"You're worried that tomorrow's Green Soup will be canceled, that the Defense Force will mow you down as rioters, or that the new Supervisor will be even greedier than Kase."

The crowd fell silent.

Rovi had voiced their deepest fears.

"I can tell you this plainly: Supervisor Kase has gone to the Adeptus Mechanicus for 'intensive treatment' due to 'health reasons.'"

That was the truth.

Though the treatment process was usually called "Wetware Conversion."

"From this moment on, I'm taking over Granary Seven."

Rovi raised his voice, his tone cold and utterly firm.

"I won't promise you freedom, and I won't promise you wealth."

"Under the Emperor's gaze, those are forms of peace enjoyed only by the dead."

"I promise you one thing: order."

He raised a finger and pointed toward the row of Deep Fermentation Tanks roaring in the distance.

"As long as you follow my rules, report to work on time, and meet your harvest quotas, your daily Green Soup ration will be 20% more concentrated than before."

"Grade One Laborers who perform exceptionally well will receive one genuine Synth-Starch Block each week."

A stifled gasp went through the crowd.

Synth-Starch Blocks!

That was a delicacy only Over­seers and the guards got to taste once in a while.

Though compressed from Corpse Starch and some kind of algae, it was at least solid food—enough to make you feel like you still had a stomach.

"But!"

Rovi's tone shifted, turning as cold as a knife.

"If anyone tries to slack off, sabotage the machines, or pull any tricks behind my back... the Fermentation Tanks will never run short of raw materials."

"I have no qualms about turning you into next year's Fertilizer, so you can make one final contribution to the Imperium's agriculture."

"Is that understood?"

"Understood!"

A few scattered replies rang out, then quickly swelled into a mighty roar.

"Praise Advisor Rovi!"

"For the Green Soup!"

Rovi watched them, feeling nothing.

This wasn't a cult of personality. It was simply the instinct to survive.

In a world where human lives were cheaper than fuel, whoever could give you a bite to eat was a god.

He turned his back on the cheering crowd. The hardness on his face vanished, revealing a trace of weariness.

"Buck," he ordered quietly.

"Yes."

"Have the guards guide them back to their barracks in groups, and restore the Collective Responsibility System. Enforce a curfew tonight. No one is to leave the residential blocks without my permission."

Rovi glanced at the sky.

Thick layers of radiation clouds churned overhead, tinged with an ominous purple-red.

It was a sign that a Warp Storm was approaching.

"Notify Priest Alpha and have him send over two heavy Enginseers immediately."

"I plan to seal off all the Irrigation Canals around the Executive Council building and turn them into Defensive Trenches."

Buck froze. "Defenses? Against whom? Kase is already gone, isn't he?"

Rovi shook his head, his gaze deep and shadowed.

"Kase was just a puppet pushed out in front. The man in black robes is dead, but his master is still out there."

"Followers of Chaos are like cockroaches. When you see one, the cracks in the walls are already packed with them."

Rovi touched the Amulet Fragment beneath the layer of lead plating on his chest.

That nauseating sensation of being watched hadn't faded. It had only grown stronger.

"I have a feeling the real trouble is only just beginning."