As his consciousness struggled up from the depths of an ocean, the first scent Liu Zhipeng caught was a blend of mushrooms, sweat, engine oil, and some indescribable excrement-a fragrance rich enough to make even a Nurgling feel right at home.
Then came the sounds.
"WAAAGH!" "Hit it again!" "Mine!!" "Get outta my way!"
Deafening roars, the dull thuds of metal striking flesh, crude curses, and wild laughter bombarded his eardrums twenty-four hours a day like the world's worst rock music.
He felt his body.
It was no longer the springy, shapeless softness of a Nurgling, brimming with the Plague Father's love. Nor was it the agile, keenly sensitive shell of a Genestealer, harboring the power of Xenos. And it certainly wasn't Alexander's human body, which had remained upright despite its missing parts.
This body... was filled with strength.
Pure, primal, utterly unreasonable explosive strength clamored to break free from every coarse muscle fiber. He could feel blood surging through his veins like magma, could feel his enormous heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.
He opened his eyes.
The world was green.
He saw his hand: an enormous hand covered in thick green skin, broader than his thigh had been back when he was a corporate drone. He looked around and saw countless green-skinned creatures like himself, or even bigger and uglier, engaged in their one eternal form of entertainment-fighting-in a strange city made of scrap metal and gigantic fungal growths.
[Fourth life: started] [Current identity: Ork Boy] [Current location: unknown wasteland planet-Big Iron Jaw tribe]
"...An Ork Boy."
From the depths of Liu Zhipeng's soul came a sigh filled with boundless emotion that only he could hear.
He lowered his head and saw a crudely painted white iron jaw on his knotted, muscular chest. It was the emblem of the Big Iron Jaw tribe.
He turned his enormous head, thicker than a human's waist, and surveyed this world of violent aesthetics and industrial scrap-metal punk. Gone was the eerie 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 something pissed you off, you smashed it.
For a soul that had endured three intense reincarnations demanding both intellect and emotional finesse, this pure civilization, governed by simple logic like "I reckon" and "If my fist's big enough, I'm right," was like jumping straight from a brain-melting final exam into a kindergarten mud-play class.
An unprecedented sense of freedom and ease welled up in his heart.
Fuck schemes and plots. Fuck whipping people into religious fervor. Fuck sacrifice and protection!
This time around, I'm going to be the purest, happiest Ork there is!
Just as he laid out a grand plan for his brand-new "Ork life," an equally burly Ork Boy swaggered past him. Apparently fresh from winning a fight, the Ork proudly waved an enormous iron pipe still smeared with green blood. As he passed Liu Zhipeng, he rammed his shoulder hard into him and gave a contemptuous snort, seemingly mocking the "un-Orky" behavior of standing around in a daze.
Liu Zhipeng froze for a moment.
Then several thoughts flashed through his brain, which still retained its human way of thinking.
He bumped into me. I should feel angry. According to Ork social norms, anger needs to be resolved through violence. Once I've resolved it, I should feel happy.
This chain of logic was so clear, so... perfect.
And so, before the Ork Boy who had bumped him had taken three steps, Liu Zhipeng moved.
Following nothing but this body's most primal instincts, he poured all his strength into his pot-sized fist and slammed it into the back of the Ork Boy's head.
Thump!
A deep, heavy crack rang out, like a watermelon being smashed open.
The Ork Boy didn't even grunt. His eyes rolled back, and his enormous body pitched forward, hitting the ground stiff as a board and kicking up a cloud of dust.
The other Orks brawling nearby stopped at this sudden turn of events. They turned their heads in unison and stared at Liu Zhipeng with their big eyes, so full of "wisdom."
Liu Zhipeng ignored them. He walked over to the unlucky fellow he had knocked out with one punch, crouched down, and studied the mouth with its two rows of enormous tusks.
A voice deep within his soul told him, These things... are good stuff.
And so, under the bewildered gazes of every Ork present, Liu Zhipeng stuck his thick fingers into the unconscious Ork's mouth without hesitation, then gave a hard wrench.
Crack!
A crisp snap rang out.
He forcibly broke off an enormous, thick tusk still streaked with a little blood.
He raised his trophy before his eyes. In the murky sunlight, the oily sheen reflected from the tusk gave him an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.
It was just like a corporate drone receiving his paycheck.
Then, right in front of all the Orks, he solemnly tucked the tooth into the pocket of his tattered trousers, stitched from some unknown beast's hide.
After doing all that, he broke off another one.
"..."
The surrounding Orks fell silent.
An unprecedented brainstorming session was taking place inside their simple brains.
Fight... win... then... break off teef?
This maneuver lay beyond the bounds of their understanding.
But then an even more primal, even purer form of Ork logic took over their brains.
I reckon... he broke that git's teef off, so they're his now. I want teef too. So shouldn't I go fight someone, then break off their teef?
The thought was like a spark falling into a powder keg.
After one brief second of deathly silence, the entire area erupted into an unprecedented free-for-all more than ten times fiercer than before!
"WAAAGH!!!" "Gimme teef!!" "Those are my teef!!!"
Every Ork hurled himself at the nearest of his fellows as though he had gone mad, using the most primal, savage methods possible. They no longer fought for the fun of fighting. Their eyes held only one target-the gleaming white symbols of wealth and glory in their opponents' mouths: teef!
And so Liu Zhipeng-or rather, Toothy Big Chomper, his new name in this life-unleashed a "financial revolution" that swept through the entire Big Iron Jaw tribe within ten minutes of arriving in this world, in a way even he had never anticipated.
As for the instigator himself, he had already taken advantage of the chaos to slip away, happily pocketing his two pieces of "starting capital" as he embarked on his grand journey to become "the richest Ork on the planet"-no, wait, "the strongest Ork."
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