It was already late at night when he returned to the sewer hideout.
This time, he brought none of his usual gifts, only the remaining Promethium battery and a more powerful "Mil-Spec-7" battery bought on the black market.
Rena seemed to be in even worse condition.
The light from her crystallized wound flickered erratically, and fine cracks had appeared in the surrounding carapace.
The number of Hormagaunts had increased to nearly twenty, but some were noticeably sluggish, their carapaces dull.
The only thing that gave Lynn some comfort was the addition of several Termagants at Rena's side.
They were the Tyranids' lowest-ranking ranged infantry, and their presence meant the swarm was beginning to acquire basic firepower projection capabilities.
When she looked up at him, the killing intent remained in her compound eyes, but a trace of fatigue showed through that she could not hide.
[Lynn]: (Set down the two batteries.)
"Your wound is getting worse."
[Rena]: (Slowly absorbed the batteries' energy, reacting more violently than last time. The light from her wound briefly stabilized, then grew erratic again.)
"Hiss..."
[System translation]: Contamination spreading. Synchronization with the Hive Mind has dropped to 10.3%.
10.3%-almost complete independence, which also meant she was fighting the contamination alone, without the Hive Mind's support.
"I need your help," Lynn said bluntly.
"There's a place that might have what you need.
But there are quite a few armed humans there. If you can act, we have a chance of taking it."
[Rena]: (Fixed her compound eyes on him in a long silence.)
"Hiss-kraa!"
[System translation]: Though compelled by the agreement, she demands conditions. She has priority access to all biomass obtained during the operation. Should she encounter danger beyond her ability to withstand, she has the right to withdraw at her own discretion.
"No problem." Lynn nodded. He had been looking for biomass for her in the first place.
Rena's bone blades scraped impatiently across the ground before she finally let out a low hiss that sounded like a concession.
[System notification]: Temporary cooperation agreement reached.
"We move tomorrow night," Lynn said.
"I'll get a map and more information. Recover as much as you can."
As he left, he looked back.
Rena lay curled in the shadows, her crystallized wound like a slowly burning, ominous purple flame.
Lynn did not sleep a wink that night.
Using his access privileges at the tax office, he searched old records and found the water purification plant's original structural plans.
He also bought parts on the black market and made a few shoddy stun grenades.
The next day, he was distracted at the tax office.
Suddenly, a sharp gleam flashed in his eyes, as though he had an idea.
He went to a machine repair shop on the edge of the Furnace District that had long been behind on its taxes.
The owner, a middle-aged man with oil-covered hands, panicked at the sight of his uniform.
"Sir, please give me a few more days. Business has been rather slow lately.
Lynn ignored his pleas, his gaze sweeping toward the shop's back door.
Through the gap, he could see a yard piled with discarded machinery, with tall, rusting pipes farther beyond.
They led toward the water purification plant.
"I can hold off on pursuing your taxes for now," Lynn said suddenly.
"But I need information on the Sharktooth Gang. How much do you know?"
The owner's face went deathly pale. "S-sir, I don't know anything."
An almost imperceptible curve formed at the corner of Lynn's mouth.
Just as I thought.
"They use this alley to transport their 'goods,' don't they?" Lynn stepped closer.
"Tell me, and I can 'adjust' your tax bill.
But if you hide anything..." He lowered his voice, the threat unmistakable.
Conscience? In the Warhammer universe, that wouldn't stop a bolt round.
The owner struggled for a moment before finally giving in and lowering his voice.
"They make a delivery every three or four days, coming from the north and passing through the alley out back into the purification plant.
Usually after ten at night. About a dozen men escort it, with guns."
"When's the next one?"
"Should be tonight."
Lynn made a note of it and patted the owner's trembling shoulder.
"I'll take care of your tax bill. But if word of what we said today gets out...
"Not a word! You can rest assured, sir!"
When he returned to the sewers that evening, Rena's condition seemed to have stabilized somewhat.
A few of the Hormagaunts had particularly glossy carapaces, clearly individuals she had prioritized for reinforcement with her resources.
Lynn spread out his simple hand-drawn map and structural plans and explained the situation to her.
Night fell over the abandoned purification plant, which resembled a gigantic beast of rusted steel crouching in the darkness.
The towering filtration towers had long since stopped operating, with only their main structures remaining.
A bonfire flickered in the plant's outer yard, where four figures sat drinking around it. Five guards stood scattered nearby, armed with automatic rifles cobbled together from scrap and machetes.
Farther away, patrolling figures were faintly visible on the rooftops.
Just as the thugs thought this would be another quiet night, the main gate slowly swung open.
A thin man in a tax bureau uniform strolled inside, a faint, cold smile on his face. "It's about time, everyone."
The thugs initially froze, intimidated by the official uniform, then came to their senses. Just as they were about to move, they saw him throw something.
Bang!
The shoddy stun grenade erupted with a deafening blast and a blinding flash, instantly throwing them into disarray.
"You mother-argh!" One thug's curse cut off abruptly as a sharp bone blade swept out of the shadows and slit his throat.
The instant the stun grenade went off, more than a dozen Hormagaunts lying in ambush on the ceiling dropped down.
A bloody display of "death from above" unfolded!
The screams soon drew the others' attention.
Shouts and chaotic footsteps immediately came from the direction of the underground passage.
More Sharktooth Gang members poured out, at least ten of them, fully armed.
Their leader was a burly man with a brutish face, his right hand modified with a buzzing chainsword.
It was their boss, Butcher.
They charged into the inner yard, only to find severed limbs and shredded flesh strewn across the ground, along with more than a dozen Xenos bugs feeding ravenously.
A chill gripped Butcher's heart.
"Boss, why are there so many monsters?" one underling asked, his voice trembling.
Unwilling to show fear in front of his underlings, Butcher raised his gun and fired at Lynn by the gate.
Bullets screamed from the barrel, only to be intercepted by an enormous dark shape in front of Lynn.
The solid rounds struck its chitinous carapace, throwing off only a few sparks.
"Roar!!!"
The dark shape let out a deafening roar.
It was a three-meter-tall beast clad in purple carapace, its protruding spine like sawteeth. Four scythe-shaped bone blades replaced its forelimbs, and muscles pulsed and bulged beneath its carapace like power cables.
The Tyranid Warrior, Rena, had arrived on the battlefield!
"We're... we're done! We're all done!" Butcher's fighting spirit collapsed instantly.
He recognized this monster. It was simply not something they could fight!
His legs gave way, and he sank to the ground, babbling prayers to the Emperor.
The underlings beside him, who did not recognize what they faced, kept firing at the swarm.
A moment later, acidic spore rounds fired by several Termagants that appeared behind Lynn dissolved them into puddles of rotten flesh.
It was a completely one-sided slaughter.
Against these dregs from the bottom of the Hive City, the Tyranids needed no tactics.
Just as several Hormagaunts were about to tear the trembling Butcher apart, Lynn spoke.
"Rena, spare him. He's still useful."