Navigator System

[Navigator: Alvin]

[Race: Human]

[Faction: Imperium of Man]

[Class: Scavenger]

[Anchor World: None]

[Remaining Energy: 0.1 Unit]

As Alvin pondered the voice in his mind, his attention was drawn to the panel before him.

He tried to wave his hand, but it passed right through. The "panel" seemed to exist only in his vision.

"Thank the Emperor Lord for his blessing!"

Listening to the voice in his mind, Alvin was moved to tears, so touched he almost fainted.

This should be the standard equipment for a transmigrator, his own "Golden Finger"!

"The Emperor Lord has manifested!"

Alvin tightly gripped the dial and, with an unpracticed motion, performed the Eagle Salute.

Whether it was useful or not, sincerity was key. Besides, what if the Emperor Lord could truly see?

After the joy, Alvin realized there seemed to be insufficient energy, and the "dial" turned dim again.

"Go to a new world. Does that mean going to other worlds?" Alvin stared at the "dial" in his hand, recalling the voice that appeared in his mind when he activated it: "100 units of energy, but I don't even know how to calculate one unit of energy right now."

Alright, he had a Golden Finger, but the problem now was how to get 10 units of energy.

"As a Scavenger, I shouldn't have no stock at all, right?"

Alvin held onto his last hope, searching through his predecessor's memories, but the result was greatly disappointing.

Let alone looting, not even a single hair was left. No wonder he often went hungry for days!

Moreover, the Blood Axe Gang was no pushover!

Furthermore, this was Warhammer. Although Hive Cities had laws, they were limited to the mid-hive and upper-hive.

As for the scum in the underhive, whether they lived or died was completely outside the consideration of the Planetary Governor and the Noble Lords.

Hive worlds were a unique and beautiful landscape of Warhammer.

Their external structure resembled a towering structure, divided into three zones: upper-hive, mid-hive, and underhive. Some hive worlds had settlements outside, but this planet's climate was extremely harsh, so there were clearly none.

The upper-hive was the area where nobles, Imperial officials, and Ecclesiarchy Priests resided.

The mid-hive generally housed Commoners with legitimate jobs, families of the Planetary Defense Force, or retired Astra Militarum members, and so on.

As for the underhive, that was where things got interesting. It was like a giant recycling station.

Whether it was wastewater, domestic waste, industrial residue, or even criminals, they were all exiled here. It was truly a place brimming with talent.

No sunlight could be seen in the underhive, only sky-obscuring smog and pungent industrial exhaust fumes, with radiation filling the air everywhere.

The harsh living environment naturally bred gangs, and the Blood Axe Gang was one of them.

He looked at the web-like arrangement of pipes and the alleys piled high with garbage all around. The image of the Blood Axe Gang's Scarred Man, with a sinister grin, stepping on him and looking down as if he were an animal, ignited a fire within him.

Why should he be the one stepped on?!

Everyone was human, so why should he be treated like an animal, trampled upon, just because he was holding a knife?

If that were the case, then why couldn't the one holding the knife be him!

Alvin's mindset subtly began to change. This was the cruelty of the Warhammer universe.

His goal was simple: to survive.

In this brutal Warhammer universe, he would become the one holding the knife, not a beast to be slaughtered!

He clenched the "dial" forcefully and cast his gaze to the side, at a Gas Mask discarded in the sewage. An idea suddenly popped into his mind: "This thing should be worth quite a bit of money."

Gas Masks were essential equipment for Scavengers in the underhive.

Otherwise, in many areas of the underhive, the harsh environment and the acidic, radioactive air would directly burn human lungs, making it impossible to move for long before dying on the spot.

Although the Gas Mask he wore looked no different from scrap, almost on the verge of being scrapped, even so, it was still a hot commodity in the underhive's black market, with demand exceeding supply.

It could even be said, without exaggeration, that the condition of this Gas Mask was, at most, "slightly worn"!

Alvin quickly finalized his plan. He picked up the Gas Mask from the sewage and carefully placed the "dial" inside his clothes.

"First, step one, get 100 units of energy!"

He rubbed his somewhat stiff face with effort, took a deep breath of the dust-filled air, endured the sharp pain in his abdomen, and slowly walked out of the alley, leaning on the wall.

The black market was mostly filled with Scavengers, basically selling discarded items they found in junkyards.

Of course, there were some good items mixed in from the upper-hive, but the probability was about the same as winning the lottery.

Alvin, wrapped in his robe and wearing a hood, completely concealed his features to avoid being targeted.

Then, he found a stall and asked in a low voice, "Want to buy a gas mask?"

The stall owner was a burly man with a stubbled face, wrapped in a crude cloak. His exposed left arm had been replaced with a metallic prosthetic.

"Let me see the quality."

The stall owner looked up, sizing him up.

Alvin took out the gas mask and handed it over.

"The condition is terrible, almost scrap," the stall owner said, shaking his head after a glance. "For a gas mask of this quality, I can only give you ten Krone."

"That's too low."

Alvin saw that the other party was deliberately lowballing him and directly pulled the gas mask back. "You should know, the most important part of a gas mask isn't the mask body, but its filter element. My filter element is still new. At least a hundred Krone."

The common currency of the Imperium of Man was the Eagle Coin, but that kind of high-class item was usually only used by nobles, merchants, or in advanced civilized worlds.

Many remote planets with harsh environments used local currencies, which varied.

Krone, on the other hand, was the common currency of this Hive City world. Its value was roughly equivalent to a copper coin; ten Krone could buy a portion of Nutrient Paste.

The stall owner, his intentions seen through, wasn't embarrassed. Haggling was normal in the Underhive; it was his own fault for not having better judgment.

But since he'd been found out, he decided not to waste any more time and directly said, "Replacing the mask body alone costs at least ten Krone. Seventy Krone, that's my bottom line."

Alvin thought for a moment and nodded, "Alright, deal."

Although it was thirty Krone less than he expected, the gas mask was heavily worn, and he was quite satisfied to get this price for it.

The stall owner pulled out eight plastic bills from his pocket, each with a denomination of 10, and handed them over.

"Wait, let me see what you're selling."

Alvin didn't take the money and squatted down to look at the stall.

"Fine, everything is here. For any shortfall, I can make up the difference with Nutrient Paste," the stall owner said slowly.

A portion of Nutrient Paste, if eaten sparingly, could last seven days. It was a relatively recognized staple among the scavenger community.

Alvin looked down at the stall. What he needed most right now was something that could provide "energy."

He picked up a broken compressed battery. A mechanical, stiff voice from his "dial" sounded directly in his mind.

[Item Detected: Fuel Cell (Inferior)]
[Crude craftsmanship, inferior low-grade battery, truly garbage]
[Energy Provided: 3 Units]

This was an unexpected bonus!

The "dial's" function was far more than it appeared!

Alvin, without showing any emotion, put down the discarded battery and picked up the gun with its sawed-off barrel next to it.

[Item Detected: Logging Gun (Inferior - Damaged)]
[Barrel completely ground down, firing pin inoperable. A good item for suicide.]
[Energy Provided: 5 Units]

[Item Detected: Old Laser Gun (Damaged)]
[Almost no sight, suitable for use as a fire poker.]
[Energy Provided: 3 Units]

Alvin's gaze swept around. There were hardly any good items. Just as he was about to give up, a copper piece he casually picked up changed his mind.

[Item Detected: Deflection Field Generator (Worn)]
[Near broken, can generate a deflection field around the user, barely escaping the category of trash.]
[Energy Provided: 150 Units]