Self-Directed, Self-Performed, Self-Acted

An old saying goes well: cross the river by feeling the Eagle Nation's stones.

When it comes to taxation, no one knows it better than the Eagle Nation.

After all, they can count a robber's loot in the GDP and let drug dealers check "self-employed" on their tax forms.

Fu Haoran copied the homework outright.

The policy went out that same day.

[Hive City Tax Bureau Establishment Notice]

[Effective immediately, all income must be taxed according to law]

[Tax rates: 20% for legal income, 40% for gray income, 50% for illegal income]

[After taxation, income is protected by Imperial law and cannot be reclaimed by anyone]

[Tax evaders will be treated as traitors and punished without mercy]

The news spread through the Hive City like wildfire.

Mostly in the Underhive.

Because a certain Planetary Governor ordered the notice to be distributed only in the Underhive.

Unsurprisingly, the Underhive exploded.

"Holy shit? Robbery can be taxed too?"

"If you pay tax, it's legal? Then what's the Adeptus Arbites even doing?"

"Doing jack! They've got a tax clearance certificate—what are you gonna sue them with?"

"You actually believe that? Probably a trap to lure us in as cannon fodder. We hand over our stolen loot, and they turn around and arrest us. I saw this kind of backstabbing when I was ten!"

The Under-hivers generally didn't believe it.

In the Mid-Hive, noble youths gathered in taverns, looking at the transmitted notice and sneering:

"Has our Governor gone crazy? Trying to raise funds with such a stupid trick? Only those brainless drifters in the Underhive would fall for that."

Another rich kid chimed in: "Exactly. Who would actually rob something and then go pay tax on it? Probably get arrested right after, and die without even knowing how."

In the Upper Hive, no one believed it either.

In short, three days after the decree was issued, not a single person came to pay taxes.

Fu Haoran was prepared for this.

That night, the wind was high and the moon was dark—perfect for causing trouble.

Wade reported: "Sir, the men are assembled."

Fu Haoran nodded with satisfaction.

He had Wade gather all the soldiers and officers who had recently earned military merits, saying he was handing out benefits.

When everyone arrived, Fu Haoran brought out a pile of boxes and opened them. Inside were all black training uniforms, 2K World goods—nothing special, just black.

"Come on, one set each. Put them on."

The crowd exchanged glances.

"Sir... what are we doing?" Wade asked cautiously.

"Tonight, I'm taking you all on a big job." Fu Haoran was itching to go.

Tech-Priest Kallen was also dragged into the team.

Seeing the black robe Fu Haoran had specially prepared for him, his mechanical eye flickered wildly:

"I would die before changing out of my robe!"

"My robe is the sacred witness of my ascension, embroidered with three hundred years of the Machine Cult's glory! And you want me to take it off and wear this... this black rag?!"

Fu Haoran rubbed his forehead: "...Fine, fine. Wear your sacred rag, just stay in the back and don't let anyone see you, alright?"

Kallen snorted coldly, hugged his red robe, and retreated to a corner.

Fu Haoran turned to look at Lucifer and tentatively asked: "How about... you change too?"

He expected her to refuse.

Instead, Lucifer took the training uniform, glanced down at it, and pulled it straight on.

The black robe swapped for black gear, but she was still absurdly tall, her curves sharply outlined by the fabric. Fu Haoran quickly looked away.

"Wait, I was just being polite—why did you actually agree?!"

Lucifer shot him a glance and said nothing.

The team set out in the dark.

Wade walked beside Fu Haoran, lowering his voice to advise: "Sir, do you really have to go? It's too risky. If something happens..."

"It's fine." Fu Haoran waved his hand. "This kind of small job is a sure thing."

What Fu Haoran didn't say was: "You rookies have never done this kind of work before. If I don't go, who's going to call the shots?"

"The key is that Lucifer only listens to me. If I don't go, who could possibly invite that esteemed ancestor?"

"And if some subordinate accidentally pisses her off and gets silenced on the spot, that'd be a real loss."

"Besides, with a job this risk-free, not going to have some fun would be way too boring."

As the planetary governor, one perk was that getting the underground tunnel maps of the Hive City was as simple as a single word.

Fu Haoran pulled up the Data Pad, which displayed the information attached to Victor's pledge of allegiance: "Abandoned underground transport tunnels of the Hive City, used three thousand years ago by nobles to secretly move private property and arms, later abandoned."

"The biggest advantage is that it's far more dignified than crawling through sewers."

The group crept to the tunnel entrance and hit their first obstacle—a sealed metal manhole cover.

Twenty centimeters thick, with a triple electronic lock.

Fu Haoran had originally planned to have Kallen crack it, which was why he'd dragged the Tech-Priest along.

But Kallen hung back at the rear, stubbornly refusing to take off his "sacred rags."

Fu Haoran had no choice but to turn to Lucifer.

Lucifer glanced down at the manhole cover, her eyes filled with undisguised disdain.

"Move aside."

She raised her hand, and a faint green glow coalesced at her fingertips.

Dozens of Canoptek Scarabs, each the size of a fingernail, flew from her sleeve and landed on the cover.

Their mandibles gnawed rapidly, reducing the metal to fine powder that fell in a steady stream.

In moments, the manhole cover was gone, revealing the pitch-black tunnel mouth.

Fu Haoran opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure whether to praise or scold.

Such a crude method would easily draw attention!

Lucifer ignored him.

The group filed in one by one.

The tunnel was spacious, wide enough for three people to walk side by side.

Ancient transport tracks, rusted and stained, lined the walls.

After twenty minutes of walking, they reached their destination: Noble Warehouse No. 3.

This was Fu Haoran's carefully chosen spot.

It was packed with compact, high-value, easily transportable hard currency: Adamantium ingots, Promethium crystals, military-grade Servo-Skull components, several crates of unregistered energy weapons, and some rare ores.

According to Victor's estimate, it was worth at least a million Throne Coins.

Wade led the team in prying open the warehouse door.

The moment it swung open, everyone drew a sharp breath.

Neatly stacked metal ingots gleamed coldly in the dim light, while piles of component crates reached the ceiling.

Fu Haoran waved his hand: "Move it. One hour. Take as much as you can."

Ronan charged in first, hoisting a crate of Adamantium ingots and running back out.

Wade directed the soldiers to form a conveyor belt, hauling crate after crate outside.

In the corner, Kallen stared at the mountain of high-grade components and instruments, unable to contain himself any longer. He strode forward, muttering under his breath:

"What blasphemy against the Machine Spirit... These parts must be properly preserved, not piled up carelessly."

Those who couldn't lift the crates simply opened them and stuffed their backpacks.

One sharp-eyed soldier spotted an unopened Chimera Armored Vehicle in the corner, his eyes going wide: "Boss, can we take this thing?"

Fu Haoran glanced at it: "Leave the vehicle for now. Strip the parts—wheels, engine, weapon systems. Take everything you can."

The soldiers pulled out their tools and swarmed it.

Lucifer simply couldn't understand why these "primitive monkeys" were doing something so inefficient and meaningless.

Inefficient, clumsy, utterly without order.

No different from monkeys.

Still, she didn't dislike joining in on this activity.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath—the first real breath she'd taken in sixty million years.

Air flooded her lungs, carrying the astringent taste of dust and the cold, metallic tang.

"The taste of being alive," she murmured to herself. "Terrible."

Her mouth complained, but she didn't leave. Instead, she started picking through the goods, selecting a few decorative items that caught her eye.

In her hazy memories, it seemed this was something lovers did together.

Then Fu Haoran's eye twitched, and he froze on the spot.

Lucifer held up several beautiful stones and said, "How about using these to decorate the room?"

Fu Haoran looked at the stones more and more uneasily. "Uh, darling, what exactly are these stones?"

"Aeldari Soul Stones. A nice little trinket."

Fu Haoran's first thought was—how dare she keep these? Was she not afraid of them coming knocking?

The importance of Soul Stones to the Aeldari went without saying. If anyone found out, there was only one outcome: they'd come to take his life, nothing else.

But refusing the goodwill of a Necron Overlord "girlfriend"... After a few seconds of deliberation, Fu Haoran decided to just give up.

"No problem, darling. These are perfect for you. I think you should put them in your room."

Yeah, no way in hell he was keeping them in his.

Lucifer nodded, her gaze falling on the Soul Stones, a faint smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. "Alright. When I get back, I'll place them in the most conspicuous spot."

Fu Haoran: ...

"Tch. Why did I have to open my big mouth and ask that extra question?!"

"And seriously, just how suicidal are these nobles? Aren't they afraid the Aeldari will come skin them alive?!"