Oh My, You Are Actually Harboring Chaos, How Am I Supposed to Handle This

Gamma Utopia.

Viewed from the sky, it looked like a massive Forge World.

Even Vulkan had to admit it.

The construction of this planet was nothing short of perfect, a synthesis of engineering and aesthetic art.

"Governor, and this lord, please board our space station to return."

Vulkan followed behind Cisrain.

He could feel that this world was extraordinary.

Planets governed by the Imperium, even the best-managed ones, were still filled with massive amounts of crime and violence, repression and despair. Death and taxes were the cold, indelible vocabulary of Imperial rule. Under such immense pressure, it meant that resistance would inevitably emerge in countless places, and the Imperium would then have to carry out cruel and bloody violent suppression. After the suppression, there would be high-pressure rule again, followed by outbreaks, resistance, and then more suppression.

This had effectively become a vicious cycle.

This was also why the Imperium was so vast that it made both its enemies and itself feel despair.

Cisrain brought Vulkan along to formulate the next expansion plan and to obtain the gene-modification technology of the Salamanders.

"Governor, some residents heard you were returning and traveled from over fifty kilometers away to see you. Many others wanted to come, but it was too far."

"Tell them to stay safe." Cisrain nodded.

"Lord Cyrus is expected to arrive after we do."

"Understood."

"Governor, this is the bill passed by the council, please take a look."

"Governor, this is the approved and verified research funding. Miss Mina didn't pass it, so Lord Brown specifically asked us to bring it to you."

"Governor."

"Governor."

On the ground of Gamma Utopia.

A Victor's Avenue paved with alloy stretched for several miles, leading straight to the massive Golden Triumphal Arch. On both sides of the Victor's Avenue stood subjects lining the path to welcome them. Moreover, looking from a high vantage point, human seas were converging on the roads in the distance, still on their way.

Amidst the boiling fervor and celebration, the honorably returned warriors stepped onto the Victor's Avenue. The cheering crowd held high the banners symbolizing the Governor's honor, offering their most sincere blessings to the Lord of Gamma World.

The boiling public sentiment was mixed with a longing for victory.

The return of the Governor was the very response to these boiling subjects.

Fanaticism and faith made the entire Victor's Avenue echo with the proud and boastful cheers of the subjects.

"Long live the Governor, humanity above all!"

"Long live the Governor, humanity above all!"

Wave after wave of sound drowned out the torrent of steel and suppressed the black silence of the cosmos. The boiling public sentiment wrote the answer the Governor gave his subjects upon the earth and the sky.

One could not see Cisrain's figure, but just by listening to the boiling sounds, one knew of his approach.

"The Governor is here!"

"Waaaaah!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!"

"Waaaaah!"

Meanwhile, the uninvited Rogue Traders stayed on their fleet, venting their dissatisfaction.

Rogue Traders were a special organization within the Imperium, operating outside the jurisdiction of the Imperium. Some statuses held by Rogue Traders, once granted by the Emperor, could even be on par with a High Inquisitor of a sector, and they could even command some Astartes captains.

Rogue Traders were also the largest aristocratic group in the Imperium, aside from the High Lords. They generally did not operate in the main sectors of the Imperium, but rather in more remote areas where the Imperium found it difficult to govern.

In the eyes of the Imperium, as for Rogue Traders, as long as you did not rebel, the Imperium would not care what you did. The territory you conquered belonged to you personally; you could rule it as you pleased, and you could expand your borders as you wished.

"Lord Burn, the governor of this planet is truly ungrateful. They are cheering down there, yet they treat us with such neglect. I think they are also heretics within the Imperium. Once the Astropath restores communication, I will have him send the message back to the Adeptus Astra Telepathica and have them notify the head of the Inquisition for this sector, so they can properly investigate them."

"."

Old Lord Burn did not speak, but the expression on his face indicated his agreement with the matter.

The Imperium granted them supreme power, and ordinary planetary governors had to fawn over them in every way when they met. Yet here, the other party looked down on them and ordered their civilian ships to dock in the adjacent satellite orbit. If it weren't for the fact that they had encountered Chaos on the way, causing their navy and private armies to suffer heavy losses, he would have definitely found a way to seize this intact planet directly.

"Lord Burn, those commoners on the lower decks have rioted again, but we have already suppressed them. The others were killed, and we caught two ringleaders to give to those people of the Death Cult."

These Rogue Traders who expanded the borders would carry hundreds of thousands, or even millions of people, including a large number of lower-class subjects. To them, these lower-class subjects were their 'slaves,' the workers who would build and transform the next world. These lower-class subjects lived forever in the lower decks, giving birth to children and serving the Rogue Traders forever, until they reached the next undeveloped planet. These people would then multiply and continue to work on that planet. Those lower-class subjects would never know who the aristocrats they served were in their entire lives.

Therefore, under harsh working conditions, resistance events occurred frequently.

And for this phenomenon, one needed to take ruthless action.

So, some Rogue Trader fleets would have some Death Cultists, and would even harbor some members of the Corpse-worshipping Cult.

"Lord Burn, three Astartes want to board the ship."

Astartes coming to me?

"Lord Burn, we have the Rogue Trader warrant issued by the High Lords. Ordinary Astartes also need to await our dispatch. It's just as well that a few Astartes have come."

"Hmm, let them in."

Outside the fleet.

Talon and two Shield Guards boarded this civilian ship, stepping off the shuttle.

Talon had received the news that the captain had already returned.

"Captain?"

"Yes."

"The Governor asked me to investigate. I have already boarded the Rogue Trader's fleet."

"You are coming over immediately?"

"Alright, I know what to do."

After finishing his call with Cyrus, Talon activated the prototype machine with the red shell.

The two Salamander Shield Guards beside him frowned.

Because as soon as Talon opened that red thing.

It started to beep.

Just like it did back on Ozrax.

Beep, beep.

"It seems there is some cleaning up to do."

"Three lords."

Talon did not hesitate; he pulled out his gun and shot the head of the Rogue Trader's retainer who was approaching him.

Seeing Talon attack, the others hurriedly tried to raise their guns.

But Talon simply squatted down in front of everyone and pulled open the man's clothes.

Hidden beneath the clothes were traces of mutation.

"You have quite a few heretics hiding here."