[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run] posted in the area channel: "I just tested it. It's the same for everyone."
"We can't log out normally while we're detained."
"Unless we kill ourselves... or they kill us."
The channel erupted in another chorus of wails.
[Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford]: "Kill ourselves?! It costs 5 coins to revive! I only have 11.2 coins in total! One suicide and I'm bankrupt!"
[Cadia's Soul]: "And suicide... could you really bring yourself to do it? You heard those two guys screaming just now... that really hurt!"
[Did White Scars speed today]: "Then what do we do? Just wait for these bastards to turn us into Corpse Starch?"
[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "I have an idea, though it's not fully thought through... Since this is Warhammer World, could we try... worshipping the Emperor?"
"What if we move a Primarch or the Emperor himself?"
[I'm Not the Lord Regent, I'm Just Guilliman Passing By]: "It's theoretically possible, but we don't even have an image of the Emperor right now, and our prayers are incomplete."
"Besides, records say the Emperor usually doesn't answer last-minute prayers like these directly, unless you're a Primarch or a particularly important pawn."
[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "Then let's turn to Chaos! Chaos answers fast! The barrier to entry is low! You just have to be crazy and extreme enough!"
"Shut up!"
Several messages appeared at once this time.
The transport's engines roared louder. The hull began to shake as it slowly lifted off.
Through the narrow viewing window in the cabin wall, Wang Zhong watched the mine grow smaller below. Workshop No. 7 looked like a little matchbox, while the soldiers and Gunships were finishing up their cleanup.
Then clouds blocked the view.
The cabin fell silent.
Only the engines roared, mingling with the players' labored breathing.
Wang Zhong leaned against the cold cabin wall and closed his eyes.
His thoughts were a mess.
He could no longer tell whether this was a game or the real Warhammer World... He had truly come to this universe.
The darkest, cruelest, most hopeless era in human history.
The Emperor sat on the Golden Toilet, suffering a fate worse than death. The Primarchs were dead, traitors, or missing. Chaos lurked in the Warp, while the greenskins, Tyranids, Necrons, and the Tau... all sharpened their blades.
And they, five thousand unarmed players, had been dumped on this frontier world with nothing but a miner's pick to start with. They had to scavenge all their equipment, owed the system breathing tax, and had been captured by the local criminal scum to serve as lab rats.
What the hell kind of hellish start was this?
"Brothers," Wang Zhong said in the area channel, "calm down and listen to me."
The channel slowed.
"Our situation is terrible, but at least we're still alive."
"You know what it means in Warhammer 40K when a group of people with no identities or connections suddenly show up and get captured by a local power like the Alru Group?"
Silence.
A few seconds later, someone replied.
[The Emperor's Tax Must Be Paid Even If the World Ends]:
"It means... we've become expendable resources."
[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Correct."
"From what I know of Warhammer World, local powers—especially groups that control the pharmaceutical industry—love people like us, whose identities are unknown."
"Human experimentation, organ harvesting, collecting genetic samples, testing new drugs... They might even sell us to the Mechanicus as raw material for Servo-skulls, or hand us over as sacrifices to some Chaos worshipper."
[Cadia's Soul]: "Shit! Stop talking! I've got goosebumps!"
[Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford]: "So... we're doomed?"
[Schrodinger's Loyalist]: "Not necessarily."
"Don't forget, we have the game system... though I'm now deeply suspicious that Tzeentch is behind it."
"But at least it gave us the ability to revive, even if it costs money."
[Did White Scars speed today]: "So you're saying... we lie back and take it, die, revive, then escape by appearing at a random location after revival?"
[I'm Not the Lord Regent, I'm Just Guilliman Passing By]: "Theoretically possible."
"But revival costs 5 coins, and most of us only have a dozen or so. We can go bankrupt after dying twice at most."
"And then what? The system says we can take out a loan, but you get nine and owe nineteen... We might as well just delete our accounts."
[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "Delete our accounts? Would that get us home? What if deleting our accounts means we really die?"
The channel fell silent again.
The transport began its descent. Through the window, they could see the city lights below—not the warm glow of countless homes, but a regimented grid of industrial lighting.
They had arrived in Arlu City.
Twenty minutes later, the transport landed on a rooftop landing pad on some building.
The hatch opened, and blinding searchlights shone inside again.
"Everyone, out!"
"Form two lines! Follow the person ahead of you!"
"No talking! No looking around!"
The players were herded off the transport and into a dim passage lined with pipes.
The passage sloped downward, growing deeper as they went. The air turned damp and chilly, carrying the smell of some kind of chemical.
They passed several heavy blast doors, each guarded by fully armed soldiers.
At last, they were led into a vast underground space.
It looked like a temporary detention center converted from an abandoned warehouse. Several dim yellow lights hung from the towering ceiling, barely illuminating rows of cages partitioned with thick iron bars below.
Each cage was about twenty square meters. There was nothing inside but a concrete floor.
"Get in!"
The soldiers shoved the players with their rifle butts, splitting them into groups and locking them in the cages.
Wang Zhong, Tax Brother, Xue Brother, and a dozen or so members of the Terra Underground Network Tavern were locked in the same cage.
The iron door clanged shut and locked.
The soldiers turned and left. Their footsteps echoed through the vast underground space, gradually fading away.
Silence settled over the cage.
Wang Zhong walked to the bars and looked outside.
There were about a hundred cages in the underground detention center, and most were already full.
The players sat or stood. Some whispered to each other, some stared blankly, and others tried to bend the iron bars, with no success.
The area channel came alive again.
[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "Brothers, I'm starting to panic."
"This place doesn't look like temporary holding. It looks like it's meant for keeping prisoners... Do you think they'll keep us here and regularly take a few people out for experiments?"
[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "Experiments? What kind of experiments? If they're Slaaneshi experiments... I might be up for that after all!"
"You can go to hell!"
[Nurgle Loving Father Loves All]: "If they're Nurgle experiments... would they inject us with all kinds of viruses and bacteria to see if we can withstand them?"
"If we make it, we mutate. If we don't, we rot?"
"Could you stop talking about something so terrifying in such a calm voice?!"
[Cadia's Soul]: "I just want to ask one thing: you lousy devs! What happened to the mechs you promised?!"
"I came here to pilot a mech! Not to be a lab rat!"
[Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford]: "Mechs? What good would one do you now? Escape in a mech, then get blown to pieces by an orbital cannon?"
[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Based on the scattered information we have so far, the Alru Group is a pharmaceutical company under the Simans Chamber of Commerce."
"What do pharmaceutical companies in Warhammer 40K like doing most?"
"Illegal genetic experiments, testing prohibited drugs, human modification... So we'll most likely be volunteers for the projects I just listed."
[Schrodinger's Loyalist]: "Volunteers... That's a nice way to put it."
"I bet they won't even let us sign an informed consent form."
[The Emperor's Tax Must Be Paid Even If the World Ends]:
"Sign my ass! The fact they haven't thrown us into a reactor already counts as mercy!"
Wang Zhong leaned against the cold iron bars and sighed.
"We have no choice," he said quietly. "We can't log out right now unless we kill ourselves and revive."
"But suicide costs money, and it hurts."
"Let's see how things go first. Let's find out what this Alru Group is up to."
As soon as he finished speaking, heavy footsteps sounded from the entrance to the underground space.
A squad of soldiers escorted someone over.
The player's ID was [Another Day Working for the Emperor]. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a deathly pale face and trembling legs.
They led him to the open space in the middle of the cage area, where a makeshift interrogation table stood. Three people in white coats and breathing masks sat behind it.
"Brothers," [Another Day Working for the Emperor] posted in the area channel, his tone tragic. "I never win the lottery, but I'll take this bad luck for all of you."
Wang Zhong and the others had a clear view of what was happening.
The channel immediately flooded with messages:
"Good luck, brother!"
"If you can't take it, bite your tongue and kill yourself! We'll pool money for your revival!"
"Pool what?! We can barely keep ourselves safe!"
[Another Day Working for the Emperor] was forced into a chair.
One of the white coats picked up a tablet-like Dataslate and questioned him in a cold electronic voice:
"Name."
"Huh? Can I give my game ID?"
"Real name."
"...Zhang San." (An alias)
"Age."
"22."
"Place of origin."
"Uh... Earth?"
The white coat raised his head, his eyes glinting coldly behind the mask. "Exact coordinates."
Though he'd acted like a tough guy in the channel just moments earlier, he answered meekly now.
"I don't know! I'm just an ordinary player! You're the ones who captured me!"
"Player?"
The white coat seemed to be recording something. "An interesting term."
"Then where are your login points? How many of you are there? What weapons and equipment do you have? Who's in charge?"
[Another Day Working for the Emperor] looked utterly confused. "The login point is Workshop No. 7!"
"You've seen us all. There are five thousand! Weapons? We've only got miner's picks! Who's in charge? Do the lousy devs count?"
The white coat fell silent for a few seconds.
Then he nodded to the soldier beside him.
The soldier stepped forward, pulled out a syringe, and without a word jabbed it into Zhang San's neck.
"Holy shit! What are you doing—aaagh!"
A piercing scream rang through the entire underground space.
Zhang San's body began to convulse violently. Strange blue-black veins appeared on his skin, his eyes bulged, and foam spilled from his mouth.
Wang Zhong and the others had expected something like this, but they still couldn't help shuddering at the sight.
The area channel exploded.
"Shit, shit, shit! They're actually doing it!"
"What was that?! Poison?! A virus?!"
"Hang in there, brother!"
"Hang in there, my ass! He's stopped moving!"
Before you continue