The Phoenix Goes to Work (1)

Construction Foreman???

Fulgrim was completely unable to understand what Dorn was thinking.

"The Emperor values City of Truth highly and cannot tolerate its loss; the efficiency of Mortals cannot be entirely trusted."

"And as the chief architect here, it's necessary for me to get involved personally."

"And this feeling is quite nice."

Boom!

Fulgrim's head was buzzing.

Dorn... seems quite happy.

Am I crazy?

He's an Adeptus Custodes Commander, now working as Construction Foreman on a construction site, and he's feeling pretty good about it?

Is this construction site cursed?

"Change it."

Without Dorn ado, Dorn produced a large set of standard-issue worker's clothing.

"I?"

"Right."

"Look closely! I am Fulgrim! I am the Primarch of the Emperor's Children! I am the Purple Court Phoenix!"

"Then let's not disrupt the project's progress."

"I'm interfering with the project's progress?!"

Dorn didn't speak, but simply pointed behind Fulgrim.

He turned around and realized that most people were staring at him.

With his superhuman hearing, he even overheard whispers.

"Hey, what do you think this clean-cut giant is here for?"

"I don't know, maybe he's a relative of Old Kamon. Didn't you see that Old Kamon was also that big?"

"I don't think so. This person exudes an air of nobility; I'd guess he's a servant of some noblewoman."

"It could also be the son of a technological warlord or a technological barbarian."

"That makes sense, that makes sense. Look, that kid's even holding a book."

"Why bring books to the construction site? I remember the school has already been built, hasn't it?"

"Who cares, let's get to work."

Fulgrim couldn't stand it anymore; it would have been better if these people didn't praise him.

It's fair to say they lack aesthetic sense, are not elegant enough, and have little culture.

But these people actually suspected that he was a gigolo.

And... the son of a technological barbarian?!

If it weren't for Nostramo, these people would have died eight hundred times over.

"Dorn."

"Um?"

Did you laugh?

No.

Give me the clothes.

Fulgrim grabbed the work clothes, intending to change into them and then go into the construction site to take a good look at what was going on there.

Besides!

Dorn just smiled.

The amplitude of a single pixel!

Dorn watched as Fulgrim went to change his clothes, and now he was reduced to two pixels.

Before long, Fulgrim changed into his work clothes and entered the construction site smoothly, but his integration process was not smooth.

Because he is so good-looking, people can recognize him at a glance.

Even though he was dressed in tattered clothes, his devastatingly beautiful face still left a deep impression.

"Hey, are you new here?"

When Fulgrim looked down, he saw a middle-aged man.

"Listen up, even though you're a big guy, before you joined the construction, I was your foreman, understand?"

The Primarch of this Emperor's Children was truly lacking in brainpower; he found that ever since he arrived near the construction site, his brain had been frequently malfunctioning.

Am I not handsome?

"You have an androgynous appearance, how could you not be good-looking?"

Am I not elegant?

"It's obvious at a glance that you're from aristocracy; you're either someone's young master or someone's lover."

"Then why are you treating me like this?"

The Mortals Construction Foreman fell silent and just stared at Fulgrim.

Why are you looking at me like that?

"I think you've become stupid from reading too much."

"You..."

"Okay, okay, no more all this 'you' and 'me' stuff. I'm just asking you, since you're good-looking, will you feed me?"

This...

"Aren't we discussing issues on different Dimension, sir?"

"So you knew? Uncle, I was one of the first workers on this construction site, so I'm giving you a heads-up."

"In Nostramo today, we have jobs, income, and hope for the future."

"For us, making a little more money and eating and drinking well is enough."

"As for whether you're elegant or handsome, you're not even as good as a bowl of rice in the construction site canteen."

"If you ask me, you should take off these clothes as soon as possible and go back to your noble estate. There are plenty of people there who have nothing better to do than praise you."

The Construction Foreman patted Fulgrim on the waist one last time, then shouldered his shovel and went into the construction site.

Fulgrim himself stood there, stunned.

Gradually, he understood.

The people on this construction site don't want culture and art.

They have something more basic.

That's their philosophy of survival.

This is something very simple and very crude, but it's a game-changer compared to any other pursuit.

Only when you can survive can you pursue other things.

Having figured this out, Fulgrim took safety precautions before entering the construction site and began construction.

Those who fail to take adequate safety precautions are not allowed to work; this is clearly stipulated by law.

He was originally a worker of Chemos, and with his Primarch -level intelligence, he picked things up quickly.

Before I knew it, a whole morning had passed here.

Ding ding!

"Hey, you new big guy, come eat!"

A woman with a scar on her face was seen banging a bucket used for storing vegetables with an iron ladle, making a deafening noise.

He looked at the lunchbox in his hand and the simple meal inside.

Or rather, the phrase "simple meals" is already a compliment when it comes to the lunch I have in my hands.

"Hey, big guy, why aren't you eating?"

"You can actually eat this?"

"I forgot you're a nobleman; you can't stomach the kind of food we commoners eat."

"How do you know I'm from a noble family? And why did you say I couldn't eat this kind of food?"

"When you stood at the construction site gate this morning, everyone knew, and they all said you were the most expensive among the nobles."

"The most expensive one?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not very educated and my words may not express myself clearly. Please forgive me."

"Then continue."

"You wouldn't believe it, but these days, a meal on the construction site is considered an absolute delicacy by us."

That's it?

"What do you mean 'that's all'? We used to be able to get our hands on this even if we wanted it."

"Back in Nostramo, you'd fight tooth and nail for a single bite of the nutritional paste."

"Unlike now, if you work hard, you not only get food to eat, but you also get paid. I wouldn't trade this life for anything."

"Hey, are you going to eat it or not? If not, let me have a taste."

"Take it and eat it."

"No way, I'll just have a bite. After all, I haven't tried your food yet."

"Didn't you want some? I offered to give it to you, but now you don't want it. You're really something else."

"What are you saying? What kind of talk is that?"

"I'm just trying it out. Besides, you've been working so hard this morning without eating a single meal. What if you faint from low blood sugar at the construction site this afternoon? Who's going to pay for it?"

Hypoglycemia?

That's a really unfamiliar term.

"Don't just stand there, eat up! There are activities at the construction site after we finish this afternoon."