"Last batch! Hurry!"
Wang Zhong practically dragged the last worker by the collar and hurled him into the pipe entrance.
He was a boy who looked about fifteen or sixteen, so thin he was skin and bones. Tears and grime streaked his face, and his pants were soaked through.
He was still crying out as he was thrown inside, but the darkness deep in the pipe quickly swallowed his voice.
Wang Zhong straightened up, panting.
He checked the time. Fourteen minutes had passed since the Alru forces began their attack.
Workers through: 3,687.
The rest...
He looked toward the other parts of the industrial zone.
The workers without player groups or escape routes were now running around amid the shellfire like headless flies.
Some tried to climb the wall, only to be shot dead by Alru Infantry, who mistook them for rebels.
Some hid in the ruins of buildings, then were buried alive when the structures collapsed.
Some knelt and prayed, only to be torn apart by stray bullets or daemons.
The remaining overseers and guards—about four or five hundred of them—were gathered in the ruins of the Central Control Room, making their last stand.
But they wouldn't hold out for long.
The rebels, Khorne, Tzeentch, the Alru forces... In this chaotic melee, cannon fodder like them could be crushed by any side at any moment.
"Brother Loyalty! Everyone's inside!"
Soul of Cadia ran over, his face covered in soot. A wound deep enough to show bone gaped in his shoulder, but he seemed not to feel it at all.
"What do we do now? Pull out?"
Wang Zhong didn't answer right away.
He looked into the distance.
The Alru forces had clearly slowed their advance. Their tanks and infantry were pulling back into a tighter defensive line, as if preparing for something.
On the Tzeentch Daemon's side, the Lord of Change and Mystery was locked in a psychic battle against a squad of Psykers. Blue force fields and purple psychic threads intertwined in the air, erupting in blinding arcs of electricity.
The Khorne front had become a slaughterhouse. Bloodletters bristled with explosive bolts, yet still fought like mad, while piles of Berserker and Alru Infantry corpses covered the ground.
The rebels were still firing, but they were clearly running low on ammunition. Some gun positions had already fallen silent.
"Something's not right..."
Wang Zhong frowned. Then his gaze suddenly settled on a spot behind the Alru forces.
There, under the cover of five Hellhound Flame Tanks, several unusual vehicles with long barrels were slowly deploying.
Their barrels weren't the direct-fire guns found on tanks. They were high-angled artillery pieces, built for indirect fire.
The vehicles were larger than Leman Russ Tanks, with thicker armor. Their gun barrels looked to be at least 150 millimeters in caliber.
Most importantly, the insignia painted on their hulls wasn't the Gene Helix of the Alru Group. It was a far more unsettling symbol:
A skull encircled by gears, with psychic flames burning in its eye sockets.
"That's..."
Wang Zhong's pupils suddenly contracted.
"Heavy Self-Propelled Artillery."
The voice of Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run came through the channel, edged with concern:
"Standard Imperial Guard heavy support units. They're equipped with 150-millimeter howitzers, with a maximum range of thirty kilometers. They carry a variety of ammunition, including high-explosive, incendiary, and cluster rounds."
"They're usually used for breaching fortifications or... wiping out entire areas."
He paused, then added:
"Judging by the paintwork, these must belong to the Cult of the Machine Thought. The Alru Group borrowed them from the Mechanicus."
"What are they going to do with them?" Soul of Cadia asked.
Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run was silent for two seconds, then gave an answer that chilled every player to the bone:
"Flatten the entire industrial zone."
The channel fell silent for a second.
Then it erupted.
"Heavy artillery?! Aren't those things supposed to be shelling fortresses on the front lines?!"
"The Alru Group has those too?!"
"Five... five heavy self-propelled guns firing together... They're going to plow this industrial zone three feet under!"
"Wait! Is there still time for us to run?!"
Wang Zhong took a deep breath.
He looked back at the pipe. More than three thousand workers were crawling through it with difficulty. They needed at least twenty minutes to get through and reach the Abandoned Mining Site two kilometers away.
There wasn't enough time.
But suddenly, he smiled.
It was a relaxed smile, almost... relieved.
"Brothers."
He spoke calmly over the regional channel:
"We've completed our mission."
"We saved everyone we could."
"Those we couldn't save..."
He paused.
"That wasn't our fault."
"It was this fucked-up world's fault."
He looked at the players.
"Now, I'm declaring the first phase of the evacuation plan complete."
"Phase two begins."
He raised his Laspistol and pointed it at the equipment inside the industrial zone.
"See all that?"
"That half-collapsed refining furnace is worth at least twenty thousand coins."
"That pile of raw materials, fifteen thousand."
"And the East District Warehouse—Cadia said there were rare metals inside."
"Those transport vehicles on the west side that can still move are worth eight thousand each."
He grinned.
"The Alru Group is going to blow this place flat."
"So before they do—"
He drew out the words.
"Let's loot everything we can!"
"It only costs five coins to die and respawn!"
"Loot one big-ticket item, and you can afford to die dozens of times!"
"Isn't this way more fun than looting and extracting in Delta Force?!"
The players stared blankly for a second.
Then every pair of eyes lit up with the hungry gleam of wolves.
"Holy shit! Brother Loyalty! You're a fucking genius!"
"Loot! Loot! Looting's what I love most in this life!"
"Die and queue up for the next round! But we're looting first!"
The players, who had been exhausted and battered just moments ago, instantly sprang to life as if they'd been injected with stimulants.
They exchanged for Simple Salvage Terminals and scattered in every direction, swarming toward anything in the industrial zone that could still be salvaged like locusts.
The wreckage of the refining furnace? Strip it!
Piles of raw materials? Haul them off!
Transport vehicles? If they couldn't drive them away, they'd salvage them with the terminals!
They didn't even spare the equipment on the dead Alru soldiers: Flak Armour, Lasguns, grenades, ammunition...
"This soldier's got three magazines left! Score!"
"The Lascannon on this Sentinel Mech still works! Quick, take it apart!"
Chaotic, but efficient.
The players made the most of their nature as a natural disaster. If it was worth anything, they'd unscrew every last bolt.
Wang Zhong stood where he was, watching them, and shook his head with a smile.
He opened the regional channel and typed one last message:
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Loot whatever you want, brothers. Take as much as you can."
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Don't be afraid to die. See you at the respawn point."
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "We'll meet up again in the group."
He closed the channel and looked up.
The four Basilisk Self-Propelled Artillery pieces outside the industrial zone had moved into firing positions.
Their huge barrels began to adjust, taking aim at the chaotic battlefield.
Caspar Alru's mechanical voice rang out one last time through the loudspeakers:
"Purification protocol initiated."
"May the Emperor forgive your souls."
"Because the company won't."
The muzzles blazed with the light of destruction.
Deep in the Warp.
Lu Sheng's mass of energy stretched with pleasure, savoring the torrent of emotions surging from Realspace.
Of course, he was only feeding on the emotions given off by the players. The far more intense emotions of the natives were food for those two.
He was still far too weak to snatch food from their jaws!
"Not bad... Very nice..."
Lu Sheng absorbed the emotional energy the players contributed, feeling himself grow a little more substantial.
He looked at the energy earnings on the system interface from the players' frantic salvaging before their deaths, and grinned.
"Four thousand eight hundred players, each recovering an average of... five hundred Imperial Coins?"
"Converted into system energy... Tsk, that's another hefty income."
He nodded in satisfaction.
"Looks like it won't be long before I can open up more slots..."
"But next time, I'd better pick a safer spawn point... Somewhere they won't be grabbed and put to work in a mine right from the start."
"Hmm, let me think..."
Lu Sheng began planning the next player deployment.
Meanwhile, in the real world, messages were already flooding the QQ group named [Alru First Generation Fellow Workers Group].
"I'm back! Shit! That last shell hurt like hell! Even thirty percent pain tolerance couldn't handle it!"
"I salvaged a thousand coins! A thousand! Hahaha, what a haul!"
"I only got eight hundred... Still worth it, though!"
"By the way, where's the next respawn point?!"
"Anyone who's got a big one see this? Let us know!"
"Where are Brother Loyalty, Tax Brother, and Xue Brother? They haven't come back yet?"
Wang Zhong opened his eyes and found himself back in his familiar rented apartment.
He checked the time: three in the morning.
Seven or eight hours had passed in the game, but only two hours in the real world.
He rubbed his face, opened the QQ group, and looked at the lively discussion.
Then he typed:
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Everyone okay, brothers?"
"I'm back."
"Battle report: salvaged five thousand Imperial Coins. I was still hitting the terminal in the last second before I died."
"Worth it."
The group instantly filled with messages like "Awesome," "Brother Loyalty's the best," and "When are we getting started on the next wave?"
Wang Zhong smiled as he typed:
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Get some rest and recharge."
"We've been mining ourselves ragged these past few days. Once we've rested up, we'll meet again."
"Also... Brothers with time, log in and see how many respawn points there are. Scout out the terrain in advance!"
"Brothers who scout the terrain can report their respawn costs to me. I'll reimburse you double."
"Once we've rested up, we'll meet as soon as we can, and then!"
He paused, then typed his final line:
"We'll use the Imperial Coins we've earned to arm ourselves and bring a little change to this man-eating Warhammer World."
Cheers erupted in the group once more.
Outside the window, the night sky over the real world remained peaceful.
It was as if the Warhammer universe, torn apart by endless war and treating human lives like grass, had been nothing more than an excessively vivid dream.
But for Wang Zhong and the five thousand players who had stumbled into the historical conflict...
The game had only just gotten back on track. It was all just beginning.
And on Aurelian IV, the fighting in the Alru Industrial Zone hadn't ended beneath the apocalyptic barrage, either.
Before you continue