The Imperium Frontier: A New Clue

Antonio poured himself a drink, his eyes scanning the files from the Administratum he held in his hand. He took a sip of the fine liquor—the kind he would never serve to guests, keeping it strictly for his own enjoyment.

Saint Ganrio, a mouthful of a name, steeped in religious undertones. Yet, one had to admit the vintage was exquisite, typically found only on the tables of Imperial nobility and the elite; common folk had likely never even heard of it, yet Antonio possessed a full bottle.

Oh, I have no intention of obsessing over how he acquired it; I am far more curious about the documents he currently holds.

Antonio flipped through the files, which contained a multitude of individuals named Constantine. It must be said, while the surname is not exactly common, on the scale of the entire galaxy and the current sheer volume of human civilization, it remains as countless and abundant as the stars.

Furthermore, Antonio was certain that the records in these files were merely the tip of the iceberg. Although a few named Vito appeared among them, Antonio was convinced that none of these men were the Vito Constantine currently standing before him.

Of course, it was possible he had lied; a pseudonym is common enough. But Antonio was certain of one thing: this Vito was absolutely not a mere mercenary or traveler.

Why? It was simple. The shuttle he had parked in the hangar was certainly not something an average citizen could afford. Even without being an expert, Antonio could tell at a glance how expensive that craft was. The hangar's old foreman had mentioned that the shuttle was equipped with a Warp Acceleration Engine, and while its beautiful hull looked unassuming, it was actually clad in Adamantium Armor Plate, the kind reserved for Imperial Navy warships.

Even more absurdly, for a "private shuttle," the ship carried a Titan-class Void Shield Generator, and even a Geller Field Engine and Warp Jump Engine typically found on destroyers—it was clearly built for interstellar travel.

Not to mention the mounted Plasma Ray, Reaper Bolter Cannon, Autocannon, Melta Cutter, and more; this entire configuration exceeded the purchasing power of many nobles. This was absolutely not something an ordinary mercenary could possess.

Antonio tossed the files onto the table and let out a long sigh, just as a clamor erupted outside—the sound of a heavy transport vehicle.

Antonio stood up, walked out of the back room, and nodded to his men in the bar. They kept their weapons concealed, following Antonio out of the tavern with a lazy, casual air.

As they stepped into the sunlight, everyone saw the massive cargo truck parked at the entrance. The driver sat in the seat with the door open, wearing a smile of calm composure, looking for all the world like a young man who had just picked up a new car.

Antonio scrutinized the transport. There wasn't a drop of blood on it, no signs of damage, no stains, not even a trace of dust. It was impossibly clean.

Vito hopped down from the truck and patted the beast behind him. "Intact, brand new, though the chassis is a bit worn."

Antonio watched this mysterious man. He seemed as casual and lazy as if he had just been out for a joyride. Antonio gave a slight nod to his men, and one of them bypassed Vito to approach the massive truck.

He expertly opened the cargo bay, poked his head in to take a look, and then gave Antonio an affirmative nod.

"Not a single unit missing. Don't worry, I'm not fond of such dangerous things." Vito smiled and gave Antonio a polite nod. The latter looked puzzled, lifting his hand to check his watch. "Less than half a day, Mr. Constantine. Three hours, to be precise. I assume you had a run-in with the Sandman?"

"Sandman? Ah, an interesting name. They certainly looked like Tallarn, but I can assure you they were not. Yes, I had a run-in with them."

Vito patted his Bolter as he spoke. "As you can see, I am standing here completely unscathed, so all in all, it was a pleasant trip."

Unscathed? No, he didn't even have a scratch on him. His clothes weren't even ruffled, his Bolter sat neatly in its holster, and there wasn't a hint of the exhaustion one would expect after a skirmish with xenos.

If his own truck weren't sitting right there, Constantine would have thought he was being deceived, but it was impossible for him to have acquired a heavy-duty truck and filled it with Crimson Essence just to pull a prank on him.

Vito walked up to Antonio and pointed at the large truck. "I have fulfilled my promise, Mr. Antonio. It is your turn." "May I ask how you dealt with the Sandman?" "Sandman? An interesting name. I've found that regardless of the race or creature, smashing their heads usually does the trick. So, just as you imagined."

Vito playfully made a finger-gun gesture. Antonio frowned. "Mr. Constantine, I am certain the Sandman are not rabbits; they wouldn't let you smash their heads one by one in an hour."

Vito laughed, a smile that carried an unpleasant—or, more accurately, dangerous—undertone. "Perhaps, Mr. Antonio, but I believe the result is more important than the process, don't you?"

Antonio looked at the man before him. He remained courteous, but Antonio's instincts, honed by years of battlefield slaughter, were screaming that this man was incredibly dangerous.

And he knew all too well what the fate of those who pried too deeply into secrets usually was.

Antonio nodded slightly. "The people you are looking for—their shuttle crashed in a Wheat Field a few days ago. They hitched a ride on a truck with some kind-hearted farmers and headed to the Starport to catch a flight to the Capital World."

"Did they have any distinguishing features?" "They did. Overly enthusiastic, more like a group of missionaries. But there was one fellow among them who was different from the rest. He didn't say a word, and he was quite unsettling."

Vito raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly full of interest. He turned to look at the truck for a moment, then turned back. "In what way unsettling? Did the farmers say?" "The farmers aren't good with words, but their exact phrasing was: 'Like a terrifying beast, a crude and violent beast.'"

Vito let out a long hum, as if savoring the information. His smile vanished for a brief moment before quietly reappearing. "Thank you, Mr. Antonio. Could you tell me where the shuttle is now?"

Antonio was silent for a moment before finally speaking. "The Adeptus Arbites control bureau. The ship was impounded for an illegal landing. I don't think the Arbites Judge will hand the shuttle over to you."

"Ah, I believe I can convince them." Vito smiled strangely. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Antonio. Until we meet again."

Vito bowed slightly and headed toward the other side of the street, giving the heavy truck a meaningful pat as he left. Antonio watched him walk away, pondered for a moment, and then spoke up. "Mr. Constantine."

Vito stopped and turned back to look at Antonio. He walked over and handed a pendant to Vito, who accepted it naturally. It was a Silver Snake pendant, the fanged serpent on it baring its bloody maw.

"When you get to the Capital World, go to a bar in the Lower Hive. Look for a female bartender named Silver Snake. Give this to her, and she will tell you the information you want."

Vito smiled and tucked the pendant into his coat. "Many thanks, Mr. Antonio. I will remember your assistance."

Vito waved his hand and continued into the distance. Antonio watched his back for a long time, let out a long sigh, and turned to start directing his men to move the truck.

Meanwhile, our Inquisitor turned a corner, looking at the Silver Snake pendant in his hand with a look of amused interest.

"Ah, an interesting adventure," he said.