The next day, at the tax office.
His superior grumbled about his absence the day before, displeasure written all over his fleshy face.
Lynn offered no defense, merely handing over an inspection report on a small underground workshop in silence.
The illegal activities listed ranged from smuggling promethium to adulterating Emperor's Praise meals with substandard synthetic protein.
Enough to have its owner shot by a firing squad ten times over.
At the sight of the report, his fat-faced superior immediately brightened, as though he could already see the graft rolling in.
He waved a pudgy hand, vaguely authorizing Lynn to "continue the investigation and uncover more potential problems."
Using this vague authorization, Lynn set his sights on a general store selling "reclaimed military rations" and "surplus industrial goods."
The owner was a former guardsman, cowardly and greedy-the ideal target for "extortion" in Lynn's memory.
After work, Lynn slipped into the store through the back door.
After negotiations peppered with threats and hints of profit, he obtained a tin of "Bastion" concentrated synthetic protein blocks.
Two "Industrial Research-4" low-purity promethium batteries, an "Enforcer" III laspistol, and two fully charged magazines.
This nearly exhausted his savings.
But in the lower levels of the Hive City, money only had real value if it could buy resources for survival.
The protein blocks were high-quality biomass, the promethium batteries might serve as "snacks" or "medicine," and the new weapon was essential to staying alive.
Carrying his new equipment and "gifts," he slipped into the sewers again.
As he approached the sluice gate, he called softly, "Rena? It's me!"
He waited a few seconds before cautiously peeking out.
There seemed to be more Hormagaunts, their carapaces gleaming with an oilier sheen under the fluorescent light.
The area of necrotic tissue around Rena's wound had not expanded any further.
Hearing the noise, the Hormagaunts gathered around, but did not pounce.
Rena raised her head, her compound eyes regarding him coldly. The killing intent remained, but did not immediately become an order to kill.
Lynn activated [Dialogue], and the dialogue box appeared.
[Lynn]: (Placed the tin of protein blocks and a promethium battery in front of him)
"I brought something better today."
[Rena]: (Her compound eyes swept over the protein blocks with little interest, but paused noticeably on the promethium battery, brightening slightly)
"Hiss!"
[System translation]: Identified as a usable energy source. Low conversion efficiency. Some waste involved.
She pried open the tin of protein blocks and stuffed the grayish-white synthetic protein into her mouthparts, chewing and swallowing.
Her reaction was as bland as if she were chewing blocks of industrial wax.
Next, with extraordinary dexterity, she picked up the promethium battery with the tip of a forelimb. Her compound eyes flickered rapidly, as though scanning and analyzing it.
Then she pushed the battery into a gap in her lateral mouthparts.
A faint, teeth-grating sizzle of energy being siphoned away sounded, and the battery casing visibly dulled and shriveled.
[System notification]: Gift "Concentrated synthetic protein blocks" accepted. Affection +1. Current: -48. Gift "Low-purity promethium battery" accepted. It also has a slight neutralizing effect on the "crystallized wound." Affection +3. Current: -45.
High-energy substances worked on the wound!
[Lynn]: (Pointed at the crystallized wound)
"Do you need more of this 'energy source'? Or do you need something specific to treat the wound?"
[Rena]: (Silent. The bone blade on her forelimb unconsciously rubbed against the edge of the wound, drawing out more murky, purplish-black bodily fluid.)
"Hiss-krr..."
[System translation]: The wound was caused by residual Warp psychic contamination. It causes conflicts and disruptions in genetic data. Large quantities of "pure biomass" are required to flush it out and dilute it, or "order energy" to purify and neutralize it.
Warp psychic contamination!
Lynn's heart tightened.
"Pure biomass" was practically a luxury in the lower levels of the Hive City.
As for "order energy," whether it was the power of faith in the Emperor or a creation of the Old Ones, neither was something he could simply find at will.
He tried asking further, "Do you know exactly where this contamination came from?"
[Rena]: (Her entire body shuddered violently. The purple light in her wound flickered wildly, and she let out a pained, chaotic shriek)
"Hiss!!!"
[System translation]: The target exhibits intense pain and rejection in response to this subject and refuses to recall further details.
Lynn immediately stopped pressing and changed the subject. "All right, we won't talk about it.
"I'll keep an eye out for 'pure biomass' and 'order energy.' If the batteries help, I'll bring more next time."
He also set a few tubes of cheap nutrient paste on the ground.
Rena gave them a cold glance, utterly uninterested.
[Daily quest: Daily feeding (1/1)] completed. Random affection +2. Current: -43.
Having expended quite a bit of mental energy, Lynn quit while he was ahead. "I'll be going, then. I'll come back tomorrow."
Rena gave no response and lowered her head again.
The Hormagaunts, however, silently withdrew to either side, opening a path.
After leaving the sewers, Lynn did not return to his cramped apartment.
The battery's effect had brought hope, but items containing "order energy" were far too elusive.
He decided to try his luck deeper in the black market, where things were more chaotic and "wondrous items" were more likely to turn up.
In the heart of the Scrap Mountain market, stalls were sparse. Most real transactions took place in the shadows.
The air carried a pungent mixture of ozone, cheap stimulant spices, and decaying electronic components.
Lynn stopped in front of a stall piled with rusted mechanical wreckage and the bones of unidentified creatures.
The stallholder was a gaunt man wearing an eyepatch, his sole remaining mechanical eye flickering with an unsteady red light.
"What are you looking for?" His voice rasped like sandpaper scraping metal.
"Relics bearing the God-Emperor's aura, or information on sources of pure biomass."
The red light of the augmetic eye focused on Lynn's oil-stained work clothes.
"Tax office?" His tone was wary.
"Personal business," Lynn said quietly. "If the price is right, I won't ask where it came from."
The stallholder studied him in silence. After a long while, he dragged a badly rusted metal box from beneath the stall.
When he opened it, an assortment of odds and ends lay inside.
A broken ritual dagger, a faded medal of loyalty, a damaged dataslate, and several small vials containing unidentified liquids.
"This."
He picked up a palm-sized piece of metal, its surface etched with intricate patterns, most of them covered in grime.
"Washed down in the waste stream from the upper levels. Gets warm sometimes, very faintly."
Lynn took it.
The metal felt cold to the touch, but when he concentrated on sensing it, there was indeed an extremely faint, gentle warmth of resonance, not physical heat.
"How much?"
"Three hundred credits, or something of equal value."
Everything Lynn owned amounted to less than a hundred and fifty.
He put the metal down. "Too expensive. Got any more practical information?
"Like where I could find large quantities of pure biomass?"
The red light in the augmetic eye flickered. "Yes. Fifty credits. Since you're new, I'll give you a discount. Forty."
Lynn paid without hesitation.
"There's an abandoned water purification plant in the lower levels of District Seven, near the edge of the Furnace District.
"Before the war, it treated water for the upper levels. There might still be some reserves.
"But it's Sharktooth Gang territory now. They traffic in 'live cargo.'"
Purified water? For the Tyranids, it really was an excellent source of basic biomass.
"How many of them?"
"Twenty or thirty. They've got solid-projectile weapons.
"Their leader's called Butcher. Used to be a deserter from the guard. Likes using a chainsword."
The stallholder paused. "You're not asking because you're planning to make trouble for Butcher, are you?"
Lynn did not answer.
The stallholder put away the credits and gave him a meaningful look.
"Are all you officials this crazy now?"
Without saying anything more, Lynn turned and left.
He planned rapidly in his head. The purification plant might have reserves of purified water.
In the Hive City, water that had undergone multiple stages of filtration was itself a basic form of "pure biomass."
But the Sharktooth Gang would not be easy to deal with. He needed help.
No, he already had a "helper," even if her affection was still in the negatives.