I Fink Cannon, Gotta Have Teef!

As his consciousness struggled up from the depths of a deep sea, the first scent Liu Zhipeng caught was a blend of mushrooms, sweat, engine oil, and some indescribable excrement—a rich fragrance potent enough to make even a Nurgling feel right at home.

Then came the sounds.

"WAAAGH!" "Hit 'im again!" "Mine!!" "Get away from me!"

Deafening roars, the dull impacts of metal against flesh, crude curses, and wild laughter battered his eardrums around the clock like the worst rock music imaginable.

He felt his body.

It was no longer the bouncy, chaotic softness of a Nurgling, overflowing with Grandfather's love. Nor was it the agile, sharp shell of a Genestealer, hiding alien power. Still less was it Alexander's human body, incomplete but unbowed.

This body... was full of power.

A pure, primal, utterly unreasonable explosive strength clamored to break free from every rough muscle fiber. He could feel blood surging through his veins like lava, feel that enormous heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.

He opened his eyes.

The world was green.

He saw his hand—a massive hand covered in thick green skin, thicker than his thigh had been back when he was an office drone. He looked around and saw countless green-skinned creatures like himself, or even bigger and uglier, engaged in their one eternal pastime—fighting—in a strange city made of scrap metal and enormous fungal plants.

[Fourth Life: Begun]

[Current Identity: Ork Boy]

[Current Location: Unknown Wasteland Planet—Big Iron Teeth Tribe]

"...An Ork Boy."

From the depths of Liu Zhipeng's soul came a sigh only he could hear, laden with endless emotion.

He looked down and saw a crude white iron jaw painted across his knotted chest muscles. It was the emblem of the Big Iron Teeth Tribe.

He turned his huge head, thicker than a human waist, and surveyed this world of violent aesthetics and industrial-waste punk. Gone was the strangeness of the Warp, gone was the oppression of the Hive City. Everything here was so... simple.

If you wanted to do something, you did it. If you saw something you didn't like, you smashed it.

This pure civilization, governed by simple logic like "I Fink Cannon" and "If my fist's big enough, I'm right," felt to a soul that had undergone three high-intensity, high-IQ, high-EQ reincarnations like jumping straight from a mind-breaking final exam into kindergarten mud-play class.

An unprecedented sense of liberation welled up in his heart.

To hell with schemes and plots, to hell with stirring up faith, to hell with sacrifice and protection!

This life, he was going to be the purest, happiest Ork there was!

Just as he was laying out a grand blueprint for his brand-new "Ork life," another burly Ork Boy swaggered past him. It seemed to have just won a fight and was proudly waving a huge iron pipe still smeared with green blood. As it passed Liu Zhipeng, it rammed him hard with its shoulder and gave a disdainful snort, seemingly mocking his thoroughly un-Orky behavior of standing there daydreaming.

Liu Zhipeng froze for a moment.

Then several thoughts flashed through his still human-minded brain.

He bumped into me. I should be angry. According to Ork social rules, anger must be settled with violence. After I settle it, I should feel happy.

That chain of logic was so clear, so... perfect.

So, before the Ork Boy that had bumped him had even taken three steps, Liu Zhipeng moved.

Following only the most primal instinct of this body, he poured all his strength into his wok-sized fist and smashed it hard into the back of the Ork Boy's head from behind.

"Bang—!"

A dull, massive thud like a watermelon being smashed open.

The Ork Boy did not even grunt. Its eyes rolled back, and its huge body toppled straight forward onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The other Orks who had been brawling nearby all stopped at the sudden sight. They turned their heads in unison and stared at Liu Zhipeng with their big, wisdom-filled eyes.

Liu Zhipeng ignored them. He walked over to the unlucky bastard he had knocked out with one punch, crouched down, and looked at the two rows of huge tusks in its mouth.

A voice from deep within his soul told him that this thing... was good stuff.

So, beneath the baffled gazes of every Ork, Liu Zhipeng thrust his thick fingers into the unconscious Ork's mouth without hesitation, then pulled hard.

"Crack!"

A crisp snap.

A huge, thick tusk, still streaked with blood, was forcibly snapped off.

He held the trophy up before his eyes. Under the murky sunlight, the greasy gleam reflected from the tusk gave him an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

It was like an office drone who had just gotten paid.

Then, right in front of all the Orks, he solemnly stuffed the tooth into the tattered trouser pocket sewn from some unknown beast hide.

After that, he snapped off the other one too.

The surrounding Orks fell silent.

Inside their simple minds, an unprecedented brainstorm was taking place.

Fight... win... then... pull teef?

This operation lay beyond their comprehension.

But then, an even more primal, purer Ork logic took over their brains.

I Fink Cannon... he pulled that git's teef, so those teef are his now. I want teef too. So should I go fight someone, then pull teef?

That thought was like a spark dropped into a powder keg.

After one brief second of dead silence, the entire area erupted into an unprecedented melee more than ten times fiercer than before!

"WAAAGH!!!" "Gimme teef!!" "Those are my teef!!!"

Every Ork went mad, throwing itself at the nearest of its kind in the most primal, brutal way possible. They were no longer fighting for the fun of fighting. Their eyes held only one goal—the gleaming white teef in their opponents' mouths, symbols of wealth and glory!

Liu Zhipeng—or rather, his new name in this life, Toofjaw Big Chompa—had, just ten minutes after arriving in this world, sparked a "financial revolution" that swept through the entire Big Iron Teeth Tribe in a way even he had never anticipated.

And he, the instigator behind it all, had already slipped away amid the chaos, happily clutching his two pieces of "primitive capital" as he began his great journey to become the "richest Ork on the planet"—no, the strongest Ork!