Hello There, Gearboy!

Catachan, one of the Imperium's most notorious death worlds, the famous birthplace of the 40K Rambo!

It's known for having the most imposing and masculine men in the entire Imperium. Every warrior living on Catachan faces two things from the moment they're born.

Combat, and death.

Due to Catachan's unique environment with its beautiful scenery and pleasant climate, every Catachan is a Terminator, and a Plus version at that.

There's a saying that can describe Catachan.

The sole purpose of all living creatures is either to kill other creatures, or be killed by other creatures!

In short, on the beautiful and pleasant Catachan, the jungle eats flesh!

Trees move;

Flowers eat people;

Even food planted in Catachan from outer star systems will try its best to kill a few people.

As for the toads, they're even more formidable. Those things self-destruct!

In Alvin's memory, the power of those things self-destructing was so great that even an Astartes Dreadnought could be blown to smithereens!

Yes, that's right.

Even the Astartes "coffin," with its heavy armor and reputation as a mobile fortress, couldn't withstand a Catachan toad!

The toad's self-destruction radius is one kilometer, and its toxins rank first in the physical universe.

Unless you're the Flash, if you disturb a Catachan toad, the only outcome is a dead end, not even a Dreadnought can save you!

On a side note, the second-ranked toxin in the physical universe is the Catachan Shrieker Toad.

It's no exaggeration to say that if Alvin were to transmigrate to this wretched place called Catachan, he'd immediately slit his own throat. Whether he could transmigrate again is unknown, but he primarily wouldn't want to be eaten by the trees!

As the saying goes, a place nurtures its people.

Such an extreme survival environment as Catachan naturally cultivates a group of super-masculine Rambos!

Got it, it all makes sense now!

Alvin finally understood why Tark could silently kill an entire Crusader Gang.

It's not surprising at all. Those who can survive the environment of Catachan would be Super Captain Americas in the 2K era, and killing a few hundred gang members would be like playing around.

Similarly, Alvin also confirmed one thing.

This guy could truly kill him, and do so effortlessly!

Even an A-class Psychic, if they couldn't instantly kill Tark, would most likely have their head severed in their sleep and hung at the door.

Now, Alvin's mind was filled with only one thought.

"I need to find a way to recruit Tark. It would be a terrible waste to not utilize such a Superhero unit!"

"Kid, what are you spacing out for?" Tark asked, tapping his head in annoyance. "Anyway, even if I can't handle it, there are still the Enforcers and the Planetary Defense Force."

"Ahem, Mr. Tark, actually..." Alvin suppressed his excitement, feigning calmness, and recounted everything that happened in the Underhive.

After listening, Tark's pupils widened like copper bells, and he roared with his mouth agape, "What? A Cult?"

"Mr. Tark, could you possibly be any louder? Everyone will know then," Alvin said, his ears ringing from Tark's booming voice.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

Tark realized his reaction was too strong. He took a few deep breaths, and once his emotions had slightly settled, he said with a serious expression, "Since you discovered a Cult, why didn't you report it to the Enforcers?"

"Me? Report it to the Enforcers?" Alvin looked at him speechlessly. "Are you sure they'd believe me? Wouldn't they just shoot me?"

Tark was speechless, his throat feeling as if it were stuffed with a rock, unable to speak for a long time.

He knew the nature of the Hive Enforcers all too well. If a Scavenger from the Underhive claimed there was a Cult, they'd most likely be shot on the spot with the reason: "What does a Scavenger know!"

"No wonder you were so wary."

Understanding the cause and effect, Tark re-examined Alvin. "I didn't realize you were so cautious, kid. You didn't want to tell me before, probably because you were afraid I was connected to the Cult, right?"

"I hope you can understand, Mr. Tark."

Alvin didn't think he did anything wrong. Without concrete intelligence, it would only lead to a fatal disaster.

"No, I mean, you did very well."

Tark frowned. After learning that the anomaly in the Underhive originated from a "Khorne" Cult, he could understand Alvin's concerns.

"Mr. Tark, since you're a retired Astra Militarum soldier, you should be able to contact the Upper-hive nobles and the Planetary Defense Force, right?" Alvin, who had been on edge, could finally relax a bit. "As long as the Cult matter is reported, with its current scale, it will be quickly wiped out."

"You're oversimplifying things, kid."

However, after hearing Alvin's suggestion, Tark remained troubled and directly posed a few questions: "First, are you sure the Cult's scale is limited only to the Underhive?

Second, how do you know there aren't Cult forces in the Mid-hive or Upper-hive?

Third, what level is the Cult's Psychic?"

The three questions left Alvin speechless and unable to answer.

"You can't underestimate any cult."

Tark gave him a deep look and said slowly, "What we see is just the tip of the iceberg. What if we alert them and they become desperate?"

"But even if they become desperate, with the strength of the Planetary Defense Force, it shouldn't be difficult to wipe them out, right?" Alvin said, lacking confidence.

In fact, he himself wasn't sure how capable the Planetary Defense Force really was.

Some Planetary Defense Forces were recruitment grounds for the Astra Militarum, so their combat effectiveness went without saying, but some were… unbearable. Their quality was truly inconsistent!

"Kid, some things aren't that simple."

Tark shook his head, looked up at the sky, and said something with deep meaning: "The water in the Losel Habitation World is deep. At least, based on my current deductions, the cult forces infiltrated the Upper-hive noble circles a long time ago."

"How did you know?" Alvin asked.

"Nonsense, I was thrown into the Underhive after killing a noble back then." At this point, in his haste, Tark finally revealed the reason.

Killed a noble?

What a strange term!

Alvin's eyelids twitched wildly, and he cursed inwardly.

He committed such a serious crime but wasn't killed, only thrown into the Underhive. Just how deep was Tark's background?

"Come with me to see someone."

Without another word, Tark grabbed Alvin and left.

The two of them turned through seven or eight streets in the Mid-hive before arriving directly in front of a rather dilapidated house.

Without a word, Tark kicked open the already shaky door and, dragging the dumbfounded Alvin, barged in.

"Wait, wait, Mr. Tark!"

Alvin stared at the cog symbol of the Cult Mechanicus on the wall, completely stunned.

This place was a temple of the Cult Mechanicus, the territory of those oily mechanics!

Would he really be transformed into a Servitor Skull for kicking the door in so directly?

But clearly, Tark didn't care about that. His unique booming voice echoed through the Mechanicus temple: "Hey, Cog-boy, get your ass out here!"

A moment later, Tark instinctively pulled Alvin down.

Then, a Bolter round whizzed past their scalps, blasting a huge crater in the flimsy wall.

Debris and dust flew, and the thick smell of gunpowder spread. Alvin's brain froze for half a second.

"Tark, you bastard, it's you again!"

The person who rushed out from a side door of the temple was clad in the standard rust-red robes of the Cult Mechanicus, with a modified mechanical arm on his back.

In his hand, he held an obviously modified Bolter, roaring with rage: "By the Omnissiah, I'll purify you, you scoundrel, in the Emperor's name today!"

Tark picked his earwax with a nonchalant expression and said casually, "Calm down, Cog-boy, I'm here to see you about something important."

The Tech-Priest was clearly furious. He held his Bolter and gritted his teeth, saying, "Swear to the Omnissiah, if you dare call me Cog-boy again, I'll send you to see the Emperor!"

Click!

A crisp cocking sound echoed in the dilapidated temple.

Looking at the bullet holes covering the walls and this simple Mechanicus temple, Alvin suddenly understood.

Were all the oily mechanics this violent nowadays?!

Please give me some follow-up reads, I beg you, my readers who are as comparable to [Lao Ai] and as handsome, heroic, and mighty!