God-Chosen Candidate

Deep within the Warp, the humanoid form condensed by Lu Sheng rested its chin on a hand, observing the projection of the material universe.

The screen displayed Wang Zhong assigning tasks in the Dawn Hall and the players busily constructing their base.

It also showed the footage of five transport vehicles driving out from the stone walls toward the Crimson Bright Wasteland, unfolding in His consciousness like a multi-screen monitor.

"This kid..."

Lu Sheng's energy form rippled with admiration. "Organizational skills, sense of responsibility, command presence—he lacks nothing."

He recalled Wang Zhong's choice at the final moment in the industrial zone: rather than fleeing, he had organized the players to save as many native workers as possible.

Although most of them ultimately perished under artillery fire and at the hands of demons, that spirit of doing the impossible in this dark universe was as rare as the smile of The Emperor.

"Crimson Dawn..."

Lu Sheng murmured the name of the warband, complex light flickering across the surface of his energy form. "The manifesto claims to bring dawn to a dark galaxy, and the slogan is that no one shall be treated as cattle or horses anymore..."

He was not unmoved.

Although Lu Sheng considered himself to have fallen into a heretical path as a Warp entity, and although he lived off the consumption of emotional energy—even finding pleasure in it—he was, after all, an ordinary person raised under socialist education in his past life.

When watching fan-made Warhammer videos, beneath the mockery and jokes, there had always been a sigh for the tragic fate of the common people in that world.

"Those high and mighty Primarchs, Space Marines, and Imperial nobles—always talking about the Starry Sea and grand narratives."

Lu Sheng's energy form vibrated slightly. "But the tens of billions of civilians who die under Exterminatus, the workers who toil until death on hive city assembly lines, the innocent victims used as casual sacrifices by Chaos... who cares about them?"

Wang Zhong cares.

At least, he is trying to care.

"In the real world, he would have been buried by the peace of the era."

Lu Sheng sighed. "If he had been born in an age of war, with this temperament and ability, he would have been at least a regiment commander."

He stared at the footage of the convoy.

Wang Zhong sat in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, his profile half-lit by the cabin lights. He was saying something to the driver, his fingers tracing a path on a map.

His physique, enhanced by the Type II augmentation, filled the seat, and the contours of his muscles were visible even through his work clothes.

"A talent..."

Lu Sheng muttered. "Such a good leek... ahem, such a good seedling. Could he..."

A thought suddenly emerged.

As a Newborn Chaos God, although he was currently only strong enough to hide behind the system and secretly siphon emotions, he was, after all, a Warp entity.

If the Four Gods can grant favor to Chosen, can I...?

"Xiao Zai."

Lu Sheng summoned the system. "Is there a plan to permanently anchor the player Wang Zhong to this universe's vessel?"

A cold, mechanical voice responded immediately:

[Plan searching...]

[Search complete. Plan exists.]

[Plan Name: Soul-Vessel Permanent Fixation and Bestowal of Rebirth]

[Cost: 10.1 million units of system material energy]

[Details:]

100,000 units: Used for solidifying the cross-universe soul transit channel, permanently binding the individual's native-universe soul to this universe's vessel.

10 million units: Used to construct the power of Perfect Rebirth (Note: This rebirth mechanism differs from the standard resurrection of players using constructed vessels.)

Perfect Rebirth means that after the individual dies, the body will be reconstructed at a designated safe point in the exact state it was in before death, including all enhancement progress, skill mastery, and memory integrity, with zero degradation.

[Optional Add-on: Bestowal of Chosen Status]

[As a harvester of the full emotional spectrum, the Host may consume additional material energy to select specific emotional traits from the harvested emotional pool and bestow them upon the selected individual as a Chosen blessing.]

[Different emotional traits have different costs, for example:]

"Unyielding Will": 3.5 million units

"Heart of Compassion": 4.2 million units

"Will of the Pioneer": 3.8 million units

[Note: Bestowal of Chosen status will establish a shallow faith connection between the Host and the individual. The individual will subconsciously lean toward the emotional domain represented by the Host, but their free will will not be distorted.]

Lu Sheng's energy form fluctuated violently.

"It's actually possible?!"

He quickly pulled up the energy reserve interface: [System current material energy: 33.1212 million units], followed by a detailed source list. Most of it came from players frantically recycling materials in the industrial zone, while a small portion was the system's transaction fees from base construction and enhancement spending over the past few days.

"Thirty million-plus..."

Lu Sheng calculated, "Solidifying Wang Zhong plus one God-Chosen Blessing will cost about ten million or so, leaving another ten million in reserve..."

His gaze returned to the footage of the convoy.

Five transport trucks were bumping along across the wasteland.

The vehicles had been modified by the Crimson Machine warband, with reinforced chassis and suspensions, and makeshift machine gun mounts welded to the roofs.

At this moment, players were lying prone on top, wielding crude heavy machine guns bought from the shop—essentially oversized black-powder weapons, but with a 20mm caliber, sufficient for dealing with mutant beasts.

"Let's wait and see."

Lu Sheng suppressed the urge to invest immediately, God-Chosen candidates must undergo some trials.

Real universe, edge of the Crimson Bright Wasteland.

Wang Zhong poked his head out of the window. The wind of the wilderness, carrying dust and the scent of decay, rushed in, forcing him to squint.

"Thirty kilometers to go."

The player in the driver's seat, with the ID [Old Driver Take Me], was a real-life freight driver; his hands on the steering wheel were steady. "Given these terrible road conditions, it'll take over an hour."

"Slower is better."

Wang Zhong pulled back into the vehicle and looked at the rearview mirror.

The four vehicles behind maintained a fifty-meter interval, a travel protocol established by the Crimson Wind warband to prevent them from hitting mines simultaneously or being wiped out in one go.

With twenty-five people in each vehicle, the hundred-man reconnaissance team consisted of elites drawn from various warbands.

His squad was well-balanced: thirty muscular brutes from the Crimson Fist, forty sharpshooters from the Crimson Wind, twenty low-level psionicists from the Crimson Spirit, and ten technicians from the Crimson Machine.

"Brother Loyalty, three o'clock direction."

The report from the lead vehicle's lookout came through the vehicle's communicator. "There are signs of biological activity. Looking at the footprints... they look human, but the stride is very strange."

Wang Zhong grabbed his binoculars and looked over.

About five hundred meters away in a weathered rock zone, several hunched figures were rummaging through something.

They wore clothes patched together from rags and carried filthy sacks on their backs, their movements slow and stiff.

"Scavengers."

A voice came from the second vehicle. [Second Emperor of Holy Blood], a player who also possessed B-rank psionic talent, was scanning with his newly learned psionic perception. "Vital signs are very weak... slight mutation traits, but not Chaos corruption."

"Long-term malnutrition and radiation sickness."

"Should we make contact?" Old Driver asked.

"No."

Wang Zhong shook his head. "Keep our distance. A fully armed convoy like ours would scare them to death."

He paused and added, "Mark the location."

"If it's convenient on the way back, we can toss them some nutrient paste and water—toss it from a distance."

This was the rule Wang Zhong had set before departure: toward the bottom-tier survivors of the wasteland, do not rob, do not harass, and help out if conditions allow.

Although the players had grumbled about it—"We're still dirt poor ourselves"—Wang Zhong insisted.

"We are Crimson Dawn, not bandits. Even though this is just a game, there are no rules about leveling up by killing monsters, and slaughtering these people randomly has no real meaning."

That was what he had said at the pre-battle meeting. "If you want to rob someone, rob capitalists like the Alru Group who eat human flesh and drink human blood... those damned feudal slave owners."

"For those who are scratching for food in the mud just like us, we should give them a hand whenever we can."

The convoy continued to advance.

The closer they got to the industrial zone, the more bizarre the environment became.