The Theft Operation

"Now, get ready to go back to work."

The brief break was over.

A shrill whistle sounded. The overseers waved their shock whips, driving the workers back to their stations.

The players exchanged glances and began Operation Mine Rat.

Their ore-sorting movements still looked clumsy, but now there was a subtle hint of cunning.

[Local Channel]

[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Three o'clock. The One-Eyed Overseer turned around. The ore pile behind him looks pretty pure. Who's closest?"

[Soul of Cadia]: "I'm on it! Watch me sneak like a Cadian!"

[Soul of Cadia] lurched clumsily, pretending to trip over some ore and falling onto the pile. As he flailed and scrambled back to his feet, three palm-sized chunks of Promethium Waste Ore had already vanished into his hands.

[Did White Scars speed today]: "Awesome! Though that stealth technique... even the White Scar ancestors would have to shake their heads."

[Soul of Cadia]: "If you can do better, you do it! This work uniform's as baggy as a sack. Being able to steal anything at all is impressive!"

[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "There's a gap under the conveyor belt on the west side. A lot of ore fragments have fallen in, and the overseer can't see them."

"I'll pretend to tie my shoes..."

He crouched down and fiddled around for half a minute. When he stood up, five small ore fragments had appeared in his inventory.

[Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford]: "Shoelaces? Do these crappy boots even have shoelaces?"

[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "...I figure if they have them, then they have them."

"Don't sweat the details."

The players gradually found their rhythm.

The moment an overseer turned around, while bending to tie nonexistent shoelaces, or pretending to stumble while carrying a load... chunk by chunk, the heavy waste ore, edged with sharp corners, was silently slipped into their only five inventory slots.

They could only steal a few pieces at a time, and the added weight made them tire faster.

But the thrill of stealing right under their enemies' noses, along with the occasional [Acquired: Promethium Waste Ore x1] prompt in the corner of their vision, made the dull, grueling labor strangely enjoyable.

Of course, there were plenty of mishaps, too.

[Local Channel]

[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "Shit! The overseer suddenly turned around! I didn't have time to put away the ore in my hand!"

Thinking quickly, he stuffed a piece of ore into his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, and pretended to work diligently.

[Schrodinger's Loyalist]: "...Bro, can you even chew that?"

[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "No... but I figure as long as I don't spit it out, he won't notice."

Two minutes later, the overseer whipped him for making a strange face. The ore fell out of his mouth, and he got kicked, too.

[Nurgle Loving Father Loves All]: "Accepting punishment is part of growing."

While stealing ore, some players also started trying to talk to the actual NPC workers.

Most of these native workers had dull eyes and little to say. They'd long since gotten used to the players occasionally grinning, frowning, or winking at thin air. They just assumed they were another batch of poor souls driven mad by their brutal lives.

[Local Channel]

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Attempting to communicate with worker G-77 on the left. Asking how long he's worked here."

Worker G-77: He slowly turned his head and looked at him with cloudy eyes before turning away again. "...Ten years."

"Or twenty."

"I can't remember."

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Asking what he thinks of the Alru Group."

Worker G-77: After a long silence, he said, "...They give us food."

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Asking if he's heard of the Emperor, Terra, Space Marines, and similar terms."

Worker G-77: His body trembled slightly. He lowered his head and struck the ore harder, no longer responding.

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Preliminary assessment: this individual has a vague awareness of higher-level concepts but is afraid to discuss them in depth."

[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "I asked the lady next to me if there was any... um, entertainment here. Or anywhere that could make people happy?"

Female worker: She glanced at him as if he were something filthy and moved two steps away.

[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "She has no taste!"

[Soul of Cadia]: "Bro, looking for a Slaaneshi entertainment venue in Warhammer World... You'd have to go to Commorragh or some upper-level world corrupted by Chaos."

"Here? You'd be better off asking where to find unspoiled nutrient paste."

[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "I've had a bit of luck over here."

"An old worker who was hauling ore with me secretly told me not to ask too many questions and to just work hard if I wanted to live a few more days."

"I pressed him about whether something had happened here. He vaguely said that a lot of things changed after District 7 fell, then refused to say anything else."

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "District 7? Recording the term."

"Possibly a key local historical event or location."

Time passed amid furtive conversations, lashes, and dull labor.

The artificial lights in the Refinery's dome gradually dimmed, simulating the transition between day and night.

At last, the whistle signaling the end of the shift sounded again.

The players dragged their exhausted bodies into line and, under the overseers' watch, collected their wages for the day: a gray tube of nutrient paste and a small bag of murky recycled water, rich in various essential minerals.

The nutrient paste still tasted awful, and the recycled water tasted of rust and chlorine.

But after eating and drinking, the [Mild Hunger] and [Mild Thirst] statuses finally disappeared, and their stamina began to recover slowly.

Back in the crowded communal sleeping area, redolent of sweat and mildew, the players followed their plan and chose the first two volunteers to take watch: [Did White Scars speed today] and [Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford].

"You two log off first. Go eat, use the bathroom, and get some rest."

"Log back in an hour and switch with us."

Wang Zhong instructed them, "Stay alert. If anything happens, log off and call for help immediately."

"Don't worry, Brother Loyalty!"

[Did White Scars speed today] gave a thumbs-up, though it looked a little ridiculous in that environment.

The two went to a relatively secluded corner, sat with their backs against the wall, closed their eyes, and focused.

[Confirm safe logout? Current status: Rest period. Logout available. The vessel will enter low-power maintenance mode. Please remain concealed.]

[Confirm]

A faint white light flashed across them and vanished. Their bodies remained propped against the wall, but their eyes lost their spark and their breathing became extremely shallow and slow, as if they had fallen into a deep sleep.

Wang Zhong, Tax Brother, Xue Brother, and the others stayed logged in for the time being.

They gathered in a corner and opened the system shop interface.

Wang Zhong's balance: 32.8 coins. Tax Brother: 31.5 coins. Xue Brother: 30.1 coins.

"Pool our money and we've got just enough."

Wang Zhong calculated, "We can buy that portable recycling terminal and still have a little over twenty coins left."

[Confirm exchange: Portable Material Recycling Terminal (Basic) - 50 Imperial Coins]

[Exchange successful.]

A palm-sized object that looked like a thick metal plate appeared in Wang Zhong's hand. It had a few simple buttons and a tiny display.

[Item: Portable Material Recycling Terminal (Basic)]

[Function: Converts qualifying material resources into Imperial Coins. Exchange rate: 95% of the standard submission value.]

[Usage restrictions: Manual operation required. Limited processing capacity per use.]

[Note: Merchants always take a cut, don't they?]

"Good. Now we just need to save up."

Wang Zhong carefully hid the terminal inside the lining of his work uniform. "How much did everyone steal today? Report your totals. We'll process it all at once and distribute the money based on each person's contribution."

The players began secretly pulling their loot out of their inventory slots.

One piece, two pieces, five pieces... Promethium Waste Ore of varying sizes and purity piled up in the corner.

Wang Zhong activated the terminal and aimed it at the pile. An almost imperceptible scanning beam flashed, and the terminal's screen displayed: [Standard energy material detected... Estimated value: 73.7 Imperial Coins. Convert? (Fee: 4.435 coins)]

"Convert."

The pile of ore vanished in an instant, as if an invisible force had broken it down and swallowed it.

Wang Zhong's account gained 69.265 Imperial Coins.

"A total of 113 people took part in the ore theft today. We'll distribute the money based on the estimated value of the ore each person stole."

Wang Zhong quickly did the math in the channel, then used the system's trade function to transfer amounts ranging from a few tenths of a coin to 0.612 Imperial Coins to the participating players.

It wasn't much money, but it was the first time they'd earned anything through planning and cooperation. That made it meaningful.

"All right, get some rest."

The other players gradually logged off, their bodies slumping in every direction around the sleeping area.

"Thanks for standing watch, brothers."

Wang Zhong nodded to [Did White Scars speed today] and [Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford].

They were already back online and were warily watching their surroundings.

Wang Zhong, Tax Brother, and Xue Brother also went to one side and sat with their backs against the wall.

"Logging off?" Xue Brother asked.

"Let's wait until the others have logged off first. Then we'll go."

"You know..."

Tax Brother lowered his voice. "Does this count as union organizing in Warhammer World?"

"A union?"

Xue Brother smiled. "We call it the Fourth Calamity Strategic Development Committee. Our short-term goal is to redistribute the ore, the means of production. Our medium-term goal is to seize the Refinery, the means of production, by force. Our long-term goal is the Starry Sea and mechs."

"Beautifully put."

Wang Zhong smiled. "Log off and get some rest."

"Tomorrow, we'll be Mine Rats again and, while we're at it... find out more about Old District 8."

The three closed their eyes and logged out.

Thousands of players slept in every imaginable position in the Refinery's vast underground space.

Only the two figures on watch kept their eyes open, alert in the dim light, ears pricked like watchful prairie dogs.

In the distance, the furnaces roared without pause. Streams of molten metal flowed slowly through the channels, reflecting the unchanging backdrop of this steel hell.

Meanwhile, higher up in Arlu City, in the lavish office at the headquarters of the Alu Pharmaceutical Group...

The report about the thousands of unidentified people who had suddenly appeared in Workshop No. 7 and been swiftly subdued had already been filed away as resolved—recycled for resources.

No one realized what kind of souls were hidden inside the expendable bodies they'd deemed low-value and sent off to perform hard labor.

Nor did anyone realize what kind of calamity these souls would bring upon this factory, this city, and this world.

In the shadows of the rest area, [Did White Scars speed today] stared at the Imperial Coins on his crude UI panel, squinting at them in the dim light.

"Almost there," he murmured, his eyes shining. "Once I've saved enough, I'll buy a gun and be the first to blow that One-Eyed Overseer away..."

His whisper was swallowed by the Refinery's eternal din.

No one heard him.

Except for a certain Newborn Chaos God who, somewhere beyond mortal sight, sensed all of this through countless invisible threads and eagerly absorbed the freshly produced emotional energy of anticipation, scheming, and little bursts of excitement.

Deep in the Warp, Lu Sheng's energy form stretched languidly.

"Yes, just like that... A little more scheming, a little more anticipation..."

"The seeds of hatred have been planted. All that's left is for them to sprout."

"When you start making trouble... that emotional energy is going to taste delicious, isn't it?"

He could almost see the scene: one day in the future, flames would soar above this Refinery, and the players would charge in all directions with crude weapons, shouting meaningless slogans.

"Keep it up, my players."

"You may be driving mine carts now..."

"But one day, you'll be piloting mechs."

"I promise."

"Probably."