I Reckon We Don't Need to Fight Fair

While all the Orks were crushing their way toward the main boarding ramp, Liu Zhipeng led his relatively disciplined Big Tooth Gang around to the side of the warship.

Then, before the bewildered Gretchin operating the auxiliary lift platform, Liu Zhipeng tossed down a huge, heavy sack of teeth gleaming enticingly.

"Little guy," he told the dumbfounded Gretchin in a wise and friendly tone, "we're in a hurry. You get it."

As the Gretchin stared at the mountain of wealth before it—enough to let it eat freshly roasted squigs every day for the next hundred years—the tiny scrap of loyalty in its little brain toward the bosses was instantly smashed to pieces.

It nodded like a chicken pecking at grain.

Thus, while countless Orks were still fighting bloody battles for a spot on the main boarding ramp, the several hundred members of the Big Tooth Gang were already leisurely riding their VIP elevator onto the massive warship like officials inspecting their territory.

When they entered the huge, chaotic hold reeking of engine oil and sweat, everyone wore an expression of heartfelt admiration for their boss's brilliant foresight.

Following Boss Tooth Puller sure gave them style!

The instant Liu Zhipeng stepped aboard, he set a brand-new and far grander goal for himself and the Big Tooth Gang.

"Become the strongest Ork on this planet"—that goal was far too small-minded.

Now, his goal was—

To become the coolest guy on this ship.

Then, step by step, to become the strongest fighter, the richest, and the sneakiest... guy in this WAAAGH!

He knew that to climb higher in Ork society, where strength was worshipped above all else, a little human cleverness would not be enough. He had to prove his worth in the most direct, brutal way—one that best suited Ork tastes.

That meant one indisputable victory after another.

And his first targets were the bosses and gangs from other tribes who had joined as new recruits alongside them.

Thanks to their money power, Liu Zhipeng and the Big Tooth Gang were assigned by the Gretchin to a relatively spacious and clean cargo hold. It had once been used to store Imperium shells, and its sturdy metal walls and high ceiling left the Orks very satisfied.

"Alright, lads!" Standing atop a massive ammunition crate, Liu Zhipeng addressed the hundreds of fervent gang members below. "Starting today, this is the new home of our Big Tooth Gang! But!"

His tone shifted, and his voice rose. "We can't be satisfied with a tiny shack like this! This ship has more teeth! Bigger choppas! Louder shootas! And tougher gits waiting for us to bash! So what should we do?!"

"WAAAGH!!!"

"Fight!!"

"Grab teeth!!"

The gang members' response was simple, direct, and filled with Orkish enthusiasm.

Liu Zhipeng nodded in satisfaction. He knew that building corporate culture among Orks was actually very simple. All he needed to grasp were two core principles—fight and grab.

He jumped down from the ammunition crate and began his expansion plan.

The first step was gathering intelligence.

He dispatched the cleverest Gretchin and Boyz in the gang—meaning the ones best at stealing—to wander around the ship and find out which other newly joined bosses and gangs were worth paying attention to.

Before long, the intelligence came pouring in.

This ship was practically an Ork version of a recruit training camp. During Bonecrusher's conquest of this star sector, he had absorbed many small and medium-sized tribes. Their bosses had naturally carved out new spheres of influence aboard the ship, constantly clashing and brawling every day over territory and loot.

Liu Zhipeng looked at the crude distribution map of local forces, drawn in charcoal on a sheet of metal, and curled his lips into a cold smile.

In his eyes, these Ork gangs that fought separately and knew only how to beat each other with brute force were nothing more than fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

He chose his first target—the Iron Head Gang, entrenched near Engine Room Three.

The gang's boss was called Iron Head, a typical traditional Ork. Rumor had it that his skull had literally been replaced with a solid chunk of iron, hence his name. His gang members were likewise muscle-worshipping brutes. They feared nothing in a fight, but their brains were made of iron too, just like their boss's.

"Target: the Iron Head Gang." Liu Zhipeng jabbed the tip of his choppa hard at the section of the map marked with an iron head. "I reckon their teeth are as hard as their heads. Lads, time to get to work!"

He did not choose to charge over like other Orks, shout "WAAAGH!" and start brawling.

Instead, he chose a more civilized—and more sinister—method.

That night, the members of the Iron Head Gang were celebrating wildly after winning a small brawl during the day and seizing several barrels of mushroom beer. They drank until they were staggering all over the place.

Liu Zhipeng led over a dozen of his finest Boyz into the ventilation ducts of Engine Room Three like ghosts.

From his pocket, he pulled out a secret weapon—a bag of the hottest chili spore powder, carefully collected by the Gretchin.

"Let's add a little something extra."

With a vicious grin, he poured the entire bag of red powder into the vent leading toward the Iron Head Gang's territory.

A few seconds later.

"Ah-choo—!!"

"Cough, cough, cough! What's this? It's choking me to death!"

"My eyes! I can't see!!"

The Iron Head Gang's camp, once filled with laughter and celebration, instantly became a living hell. Every Ork was left streaming with tears and snot, coughing uncontrollably, and utterly stripped of their ability to fight by the sudden biochemical attack.

At that moment, Liu Zhipeng descended from above with the main force of the Big Tooth Gang like a god come down to earth.

"WAAAGH!!!"

Every member of the Big Tooth Gang had their mouths and noses simply covered with wet cloth. They charged into the enemy ranks like tigers among sheep and gave the Iron Head Gang members—who were still rolling on the ground, unable even to open their eyes—a one-sided, utterly unsurprising beating.