Too Hopeless to Help

Compared to the wailing and lamentation over on Curze's side, things were much calmer for Han Mingxuan.

The adult world seldom had too many openly displayed emotions.

Of course, Han Mingxuan didn't dare show any right now.

"Ah, let me see. A... a special ordinary person. I never thought I'd say something like that. I really must be getting senile."

"How fascinating. A special ordinary person, a young Primarch, a planet risen from the ashes, and even an inexplicable Warp creation."

"This planet is truly fascinating."

Earlier that day, after Han Mingxuan had returned from the construction site, he had been leisurely enjoying some wine and side dishes.

Then, all of a sudden, he found he couldn't move.

The towering metal skeleton had fixed its gaze on Han Mingxuan and was staring intently at him.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Trazyn the Infinite, an overlord of the Necrons."

"My visit is not a sudden whim. I have been watching this place for a long time. After assessing it, I believe this planet would make a fine addition to my museum."

"At least in the upper galleries."

Warhammer's king of miniatures.

The galaxy's ultimate model collector.

The very pinnacle of collecting mania.

A guy who could be considered a Living Saint in this damn cesspit.

The ultimate metal skeleton.

"You seem to have a lot to say."

Trazyn moved the staff in his hand, and the field holding Han Mingxuan vanished.

"Whew! You should have knocked!"

"Ho ho ho. Hiding your fear with anger. A perfectly normal emotional response."

"You shouldn't be here."

What time was it now?

The 30th millennium.

The metal skeletons were all asleep!

How could this model collector have woken up?

It made no sense. No sense at all.

Could it be the butterfly effect?

"Ho ho ho. As a collector of refinement, I go wherever I please for a precious exhibit."

"..."

Silence fell over the room for a moment.

"Is there nothing else you'd like to say?"

"No. There'd be no point."

Trazyn was a king of miniatures. Whenever he saw something good, he wanted to take it.

He was a straight-up metal-skeleton version of the Blood Ravens.

Han Mingxuan was just a teacher. He really couldn't do a thing about Trazyn.

"Hmm, you understand your situation well. Come with me."

Bang!

Whoosh!

Clang!

The writing brush that had been sitting in the study flew straight out and struck Trazyn squarely in the forehead.

"Hiss!"

Pain!

It really hurt!

A piercing, agonizing pain!

Wait...

Logic unit overloaded...

The atmosphere, which had been unbearably tense, suddenly grew a little strange.

Trazyn's eyes flickered, green as ghostly flames.

Sparks also popped out of his body from time to time.

But the Living Metal quickly repaired the damage on its own.

Watching this strange scene, the first thing Han Mingxuan thought to do was run.

He grabbed the brush and ran at once.

But he had only just opened the door and taken a look before he obediently went back and sat down.

There was nothing outside the door, only endless, icy darkness and emptiness.

Heaven knew where this metal skeleton had shifted the room with phase technology.

"Your name is Han Mingxuan, correct?"

"That's right."

"Hmm, quite consistent with a certain naming convention from ancient Terra. But that's not important. Let me see that brush of yours."

Han Mingxuan refused outright.

But it was no use.

Trazyn beckoned, and the brush landed in his hand. But what happened next left them both dumbfounded.

Boom.

The brush pressed Trazyn flat on the floor.

Refusing to accept it, Trazyn tried several times to move it with spatial technology, but it wouldn't budge.

He even tried a phase dagger, but he couldn't damage it.

"What a strange thing. It can't be damaged. Truly incomprehensible."

To get back up, Trazyn detached his own arm.

It was Living Metal anyway, and it could grow back.

But Trazyn's troubles began immediately afterward.

"Aah!!!"

Agony!

The agony of having his arm ripped off while he was still alive.

After that scream, the mighty Necron Overlord passed out on the spot.

Tsk.

This Necron Overlord was a bit weak.

Han Mingxuan picked up the brush and simply went back to the study.

What?

Should he bandage the arm?

Sorry, but when a Necron's arm was ripped off, not even machine oil would come out.

What was there to bandage?

Sitting in the study, Han Mingxuan felt as if someone had knocked him on the head several times.

"Hiss! Ow, ow, ow! That's not how you flick someone on the forehead."

That was right. What Han Mingxuan felt now was just like being flicked on the forehead.

And in the same spot, over and over.

"You little brat, why aren't you using what I gave you?"

Han Mingxuan's vision blurred, and a figure appeared before him.

A woman.

"You... you're... Earth?"

"At least your brain hasn't rusted, kid. Come on, call me Mom."

"I'm not Da Wa."

Han Mingxuan could plainly see one of the woman's eyebrows twitch.

Don't get angry, don't get angry. Getting angry hurts your health, and no one cares.

"You little brat, do you want to go back or not?"

"Yes! I dream about it!"

What a joke. Who would willingly come to Warhammer instead of staying on perfectly good Earth?

Back in Huaxia, he could get drunk in the middle of the night and sleep on the road. Here, forget sleeping on the road-he could get killed sleeping at home.

"Then get out there and stir things up! What are you standing around for?!"

Huh?

"Do you know what your soul's projection looks like in the Warp?"

"It should be pretty heavy."

He was a transmigrator, after all. He had to have some presence, right?

"Wrong. Take a good look. This is your projection in the Warp."

"Isn't that a mosaic?"

It was worse than a blocky character.

"That's right, it's a mosaic. That's your soul's projection."

"Isn't that perfect, then? The things in the Warp can't see me."

"Yes, and I can't see you either. I can't fish your soul out at all."

Fish out his soul?

"Tzeentch, you screwed me over!"

Bang, bang, bang!

The writing brush suddenly flew out of his hand and struck Han Mingxuan hard on the head several times.

"You're a transmigrator, for goodness' sake, and four little brats have scared you this badly. Aren't you ashamed?"

"What choice did I have? I've only got one life. Shouldn't I take care of it?"

"Now, like you said, your soul is heavy, and that's indeed the truth."

"For those four to take your soul, ants would have to be able to carry off a mountain."

I'm that awesome?

"Let me put it this way. Of all the worlds in existence, Earth is undoubtedly the heaviest, because we're on the narrative layer."

"But transmigration happens often, so every world has its own protective mechanism."

"This world's mechanism is simple: it buries your soul."

"Then can't you just dig it out?"

Bang!

"You blockhead! If I do it, this world will collapse. You have to dig out your own soul's projection before I can take you back."

The Will of Earth was almost beside herself with anger.

When she didn't show herself, Han Mingxuan was clever, even wise, and handled matters with composure and restraint.

The moment she appeared, Han Mingxuan became a thoroughgoing little brat.

And the worst part was that she couldn't just leave him alone.