What Is the First Thing to Do After a Fight?

What Was the First Thing to Do After a Fight?

What was the first thing to do after a fight?

Loot the bodies.

So Hades said.

.

Barbarus, Southern Swamps, Diderot Highlands.

Hades hummed a little tune as he leisurely flipped through the bookshelf of Dursley, a minor-to-mid-level lord. It was crammed with all sorts of Barbarus-specific steam-mechanical blueprints, experiment records, and ancient Barbarus texts—most of them related to Psychic Power.

Not bad luck, Hades thought as he looked at the thick stack of steam-mechanical blueprints.

In fact, compared with most of the minor lords he had fought before, Dursley had quite a lot of steam-mechanical blueprints.

Most of these brutal, crude, cunning aliens relied on their Psychic Sorcery to dominate their territories. Aside from necessary steam vehicles and gas-protection equipment, few lords actively collected or developed steam-powered machinery.

The lords of Barbarus had put all their points into Witchcraft and Psychic Power ascension, with barely any invested in machinery.

Of course, excluding Nac'Lare, the major lord whose stats had completely gone off the charts. That guy had maxed out everything.

Sigh, was that what it meant to be a little willful?

Hades silently mused, but his hands never slowed as he continued sorting through the blueprints.

Though Hades could not touch machinery right now—touch it once and he was done for—he believed that one day, he would be able to compress the Null Field beneath the surface of his skin—

Then he would be able to touch machinery!

(He really was a little genius.)

Fuck, this kind of huge mechanical monstrosity was a man's romance!

In this Warhammer world, if he could not touch Chainswords, boltguns, or Meltaguns, did life even have any meaning?!

No!

Hades revered machinery. A Meltagun that a factory could produce in a few hours, immediately equip, and raise a soldier's attack power to 75, versus a Space Marine who needed more than a decade of training to reach an attack power of 200.

No matter how he looked at it, the Meltagun was clearly the better value, okay?!

Technology was power!

This was the simple faith of an engineering student from 2K Earth.

He would convert to worshipping the Omnissiah right now—cough, cough, no, no.

After sorting the mechanical blueprints, Hades turned and continued examining the other apparatuses in the laboratory.

Hmm. A venom extractor, with blackish-purple venom dripping out drop by drop; two connected devices of unknown purpose, probably related to Psychic Power; a skinning machine, with a human skin stripped off who knew how long ago hanging from it to dry.

Fuck, these damned alien contraptions.

After making a round, Hades checked and confirmed that there were no more instruments he could make use of, or dismantle for materials.

(Yes, he had dismantled a whole pile of machines earlier just to take their parts. Those oddly shaped components were now clinking around in his pockets.)

Then he walked toward the Alien Lord's corpse beside the experiment table. Hades pulled out the dagger at his waist and began—

Skinning it.

Yes, skinning it.

One reason the aliens of Barbarus could withstand the omnipresent poisonous gases was that they had evolved skin capable of resisting them.

Hades planned to skin them and sew several custom Hades-brand gas-protection suits.

At present, the mainstream method the resistance led by Mortarion used to resist the poisonous gases was to make armor resembling sealed suits.

Mortarion would definitely not tolerate Hades's method of skinning aliens, but Hades knew what he wanted.

That armor could not stop the poisonous gases, unless it was Power Armor with the technological sophistication of the Space Marines.

Clearly, the little craftsmen of Barbarus could not reach that level yet.

But it did not matter. As long as Hades knew how to resist the poisonous gas atop the highest peak, that was enough.

But these alone could not guard against Barbarus's poisonous gases—

The poisonous gases of Barbarus actually carried Psychic damage.

This completely shattered Hades's understanding. He still remembered the first time he used the Null Field to sense his surroundings. At the time, he had not noticed the poisonous gases glowing faintly green, because when your entire body was immersed in air, it was hard to notice something called "air."

It was not until Hades first tried heading into the highlands that he immediately sensed, through the Null Field, the poisonous gases suddenly growing denser.

Then Hades discovered in shock that even the land of Barbarus carried a faint green Psychic glow.

Holy shit. Actual holy shit.

Now, in Hades's imagination, viewed through the Warp's eyes from space, Barbarus should have been a planet flickering with a faint green light.

Was this fucking planet completely cursed by ■■?!

Every time Hades thought this far, he forcibly stopped himself, but he already understood clearly that any attempt to avoid thinking was nothing more than burying his head in the sand.

But he had no other choice.

It was very clear now. He was already being watched.

But could reducing the frequency of his thoughts reduce the chance of being watched?

Honestly, Hades did not know.

In this grimdark world, there would always be things he could not know and things he could not do.

The only thing he could do now was make himself as strong as possible and prepare as thoroughly as possible for the worst future.

That was why he had chosen to challenge these minor lords alone. He needed to grow stronger. If he had merely stayed with the Death Guard and followed orders, Hades could never have reached his current level of strength.

He needed to grow stronger. Only then would he have even the slightest chance to struggle in this world.

Because in this world, weakness was the original sin!

Even if one died because of weakness, one's soul would still be tormented by those supreme beings!

Truly, there was no peace even after death!

Sigh, shit. Hades had already worked very hard not to become one of those transmigrators who cried like a Gretchin.

.

Finally, after carefully stripping off a large usable piece of skin, Hades stood and slowly put it away.

He had already saved up quite a bit. It should be nearly enough.

But if Hades wanted to make Mortarion a gas-protection suit, it would really take an absurd amount of material. Hades once again let out a deep sigh.

Primarchs were huge bastards. Not only did they eat a lot, they also took a ridiculous amount of fabric to make clothes for!

Today, Hades also wanted to point at Mortarion and curse him out. Big bro, can you do it or not? Can you? Stop wasting materials, okay?

Cough, cough, just kidding.

He would still have to make a living under the Primarch someday. He could not afford to offend him.

After skinning the corpse, Hades circled the laboratory once more. Once he confirmed there was nothing left in the room, he walked out of the laboratory and headed firmly toward the warehouse.

As for this laboratory? Hades did not need to worry about it. Before this, he had already told the Death Guard led by Typhon. Just as before, they would come clean up the battlefield the next day.

The Death Guard would take away the blueprints and instruments Hades had deliberately left behind, along with the weapons piled high in the warehouse.

Every time he saw so many weapons left behind, Hades's heart ached. But on second thought, he could not use those weapons himself anyway, so he might as well give them to the Death Guard's warriors.

Although their attitudes toward Hades were not particularly good, they had still bravely stepped forward, risking their lives to fight for humanity's fate.

Compared with a deadweight like Hades, who only fought battles that benefited him and thought about running or playing dead whenever he could not win, they truly deserved anyone's respect.

Today was another day of successfully solo-killing a minor lord.

Time to, time to, time to patch the setting.