The Iron Eagle Medal!

"Wait a moment? A legitimate job? And a resident permit?!"

Alvin immediately put on a classic Chinese "face-changing" act, rubbing his hands together like a fly, his face beaming with smiles. "Are you serious? You're going to introduce me to a job?"

It wasn't that he changed his tune so quickly; the "chips" offered were simply too tempting.

A formal job that allowed him to settle in the Mid-hive meant he could shed his illegal immigrant status, openly approach the Mid-hive Enforcers, and obtain resources he couldn't get in the Underhive!

Tark watched Alvin's rapid change of expression, his own face stiffening for half a second before quickly returning to normal. "Of course. My name, Tark, should carry some weight."

He wasn't lying about that. Jackal Tark's reputation in the Underhive was well-known; he was famous for "keeping his word."

However, despite being tempted by Tark's offer, Alvin still hesitated.

Should I really tell Tark?

His main concern was what if Tark had some unknown connection to the Cult?

Just as Alvin was hesitating, Tark slowly spoke, "I'm guessing it has something to do with the Blood Axe Gang being wiped out by the Iron Hammer Gang, and the disappearance of over three hundred people in the East District, right?"

He blew a smoke ring, the dissipating white mist making Tark appear somewhat enigmatic. "Actually, I had people investigate the clues about the three hundred missing people in the East District, but unfortunately, they found nothing. Only blood-soaked earth, nothing else, not even... bodies."

Tark emphasized the last two words.

"And then?" Alvin's face was as calm as a placid lake, unmoved. "How did you determine that I stowed away to the Mid-hive because of these two incidents?"

"It's simple. I had people investigate you, Alvin Valerius."

Tark grinned, revealing two rows of yellowed, smoke-stained teeth. Beneath his messy, ramen-like hair, his eyes were sharp as knives, his expression intriguing. "An ordinary Scavenger from the Underhive wouldn't normally miss the 'Harvest Day,' but you weren't there that day."

"Mr. Tark, I wasn't the only one who didn't go, was I?" Alvin shrugged.

"Kid, I'm not an Enforcer. I don't need to establish all the evidence."

Tark chuckled, flicking ash from his cigarette. He glanced at Alvin meaningfully. "I know, of course, that you weren't the only one who survived. But... my gut tells me that your sudden decision to stow away to the Mid-hive at this particular time is definitely related to these two events."

Almost forgot, the Warhammer world doesn't care about evidence. Alvin's mouth twitched slightly. After a moment's thought, he said, "Mr. Tark, please forgive me, but I cannot trust you."

"You're unwilling to say?"

Tark frowned. He had thought his offer would be enough to make the Underhive dweller agree.

But the result seemed far from what he imagined; the other party actually refused a stable job in the Mid-hive!

"I really want a stable job, but I can't trust you."

Alvin painfully refused Tark's offer, but he didn't completely shut the door.

"You can't trust me. Does that mean these two incidents involve something significant?"

Tark understood the implied meaning in his words, and his expression became slightly serious. "What would it take for you to tell me?"

Alvin smiled without speaking, showing no intention of explaining.

Tark understood the meaning in Alvin's eyes: unless he could prove himself, this kid wouldn't reveal anything to him, no matter what.

What a cunning kid. He sighed. At this point, it seemed he had no other choice.

The events in the Underhive had left Tark feeling uneasy, always sensing that things weren't as simple as they appeared. The people he sent to investigate had brought back almost no valuable intelligence.

And among the over three hundred people missing from the East District, only this kid hadn't been anywhere on Harvest Day!

This was what truly made Tark suspicious of Alvin.

How could a bottom-tier Scavenger possibly miss 'Harvest Day'?

And it just so happened that on that very day, over three hundred people from the East District went missing. Could there be such a coincidence in the world?

Tark hesitated for a long time before reluctantly taking something out from his inner lining. His movements were so careful and gentle, as if he were holding a treasure, as he presented it to Alvin.

"Kid, this should prove that I'm trustworthy, right?"

As soon as Alvin saw what was in Tark's palm, his pupils contracted sharply. He blurted out, "Holy crap, the Iron Eagle Medal?!"

But the moment he spoke, he realized he had slipped up.

As expected, an expression of surprise appeared on Tark's face, and he immediately stared intently at the young man, suspiciously asking, "Kid, how do you know this medal?"

An Underhive scavenger who picked up trash actually recognized a medal awarded by the Departmento Munitorum?

It was like finding a homeless person and pointing to a German Iron Cross, asking what it was, and likely getting an answer like "a medal."

Alvin's eyelids twitched. He regretted it so much he wanted to slap himself.

But under Tark's cold gaze, he could only brace himself and say, "Actually, my mother told me. When I was young, she told me a lot about the Astra Militarum, including many medals."

This excuse was incredibly flimsy, but Tark didn't seem to care.

Putting the Iron Eagle Medal back into his pocket, he said calmly, "Since you know it's the Iron Eagle Medal, it should prove that I'm trustworthy, right?"

The Iron Eagle Medal, also known as the "Madman's Eagle," was a semicircular golden medal with an iron Imperial eagle. It was arguably the most renowned personal honor.

It was typically awarded by the Departmento Munitorum to soldiers who had faced mortal peril, overcome their enemies, and were still able to serve normally!

In other words... Tark was once a member of the Astra Militarum!

No wonder, that makes sense now.

This explained why Tark could get his hands on Astra Militarum gear, and even earn the respect of the Mid-hive Enforcers.

He was a retired Astra Militarum Veteran, a recipient of the Iron Eagle Medal, and held an extraordinary status within Hive Primus!

But one question still bothered Alvin: "Since you have the Iron Eagle Medal, how did you end up in the Underhive?"

It just didn't add up. An Astra Militarum soldier decorated with the Iron Eagle Medal would likely hold a rank, have a history of brave service, and be someone even nobles in the hive wouldn't dare provoke. So how did he end up in the Underhive?

"None of your damn business!" Tark suddenly snapped, enraged as if his toes had been stepped on. "Stop changing the subject, just tell me what's happening in the Underhive!"

"May I be so bold as to ask, what was the name of the Legion you served in before?"

Alvin leaned forward curiously. He was genuinely intrigued about which Legion Tark had served in.

"Does that have anything to do with what you're about to tell me?" Tark frowned, clearly reluctant.

"It does."

Alvin nodded and said gravely, "It's not that I look down on you, but if it wasn't a powerful Legion, knowing its name won't be of any use."

Of course, that was pure nonsense, just a ploy to trick Tark.

Even if Tark didn't say anything, his status as a recipient of the Iron Eagle Medal meant that reporting news of a Cult would directly attract the attention of the local Munitorum and even the Planetary Governor.

Alvin was simply curious, hence the question.

"You wouldn't know it even if I told you."

Tark looked extremely conflicted. After smoking three cigarettes, he finally sighed and said helplessly, "Do you know Catachan? I'm from there."