Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming

Chapter 41 Xinya Space

Andy walked along the desolate road leading to the shelter.

He was holding a steel cable about the thickness of a thumb, taut and straight, with the other end tied to the huge black cube.

The black box was flashing a soft yellow standby light and was steadily suspended one meter above the ground by the anti-gravity generator at its bottom.

It has almost no weight, or rather, its mass is canceled out by the anti-gravity field.

Andy tugged at it, like he was pulling a giant helium balloon.

The reason it's not installed in the back of the car is because the crystal array inside is too intricate.

The road conditions around the bottom of the nest are extremely poor. If it were to be transported by car, the journey back would be bumpy. If the anti-gravity module malfunctions even slightly, this little thing, weighing at least tens of tons, would fall down on it. The nest itself would be fine, but the car would be totaled.

Andy trusted his own legs more, as the hydraulic suspension system could filter out most of the vibrations.

Behind him, a massive convoy led by Gamma-9 was frantically unloading supplies.

This time, there's no need for any tactical cover or electronic reconnaissance; it's just a pure and enjoyable zero-dollar purchase.

The mysterious little shop in Quesandi!

The Helios Group stockpiled an astonishing amount of high-end materials in order to build this factory.

Andy sent the robbery list directly to Gamma-9 via the communication link.

First, there's the pile of metal ingots in the finished product warehouse, including aerospace-grade aluminum-titanium alloy and high-purity tungsten steel.

In the bottom nest, these materials are usually only found in small fragments within the wreckage of crashed starships.

But here, they are cast into standard industrial ingots and neatly stacked in large piles.

With these, Andy's problem of heat resistance at the rocket launcher nozzle was solved, and the core material for the standard explosive projectile was also available.

Even the skeleton of power armor can be made from these materials.

Secondly, there are the production equipment that haven't broken down yet.

Andy looked down on Helios's inefficient assembly line, but he was interested in the parts it produced.

High-power servo motors, industrial-grade sensors, precision hydraulic pumps, and countless high-specification screws and bearings.

There were even skull fragments that they didn't have time to take with them!

These things, once dismantled and modified, become the cornerstone of the shelter's industrial upgrade.

Finally, and most importantly, the trophy—those maintenance drones that were pinned down by the sentry turret!

Before leaving the core area, Andy had already used his administrator privileges to forcibly remove their armor lock.

These machines, which look like giant wasps, were standard engineering auxiliary units of the Golden Age.

They come equipped with anti-gravity engines, plasma cutting blades for precision work, and multi-functional welding arms.

All you need to do is take them back and do some simple repairs.

Andy then had a tireless, highly precise construction team capable of flying and escaping.

In the future, when building houses or setting up production lines, Andy won't need to do anything himself. He just needs to input the blueprints, and these drones will do it all by themselves.

Gamma-9 and the workers are busy moving things.

According to Andy the Sage, this move back will allow the Vault's industrial strength to leapfrog several eras!

But Andy fell into deep thought.

His radar remained locked on that distant, foul-smelling direction.

Acidic swamp.

……

……

Birdbeak Doctor Headquarters, Underwater Base.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two dazzling blue plasma clusters exploded in the dimly lit corridor.

The high temperature instantly evaporated the moisture in the air, producing a piercing sizzling sound.

A figure wearing a black coat that was mostly ripped off was blasted apart by the plasma ball, his upper body was shattered, and his remaining two legs took two steps forward due to inertia before he fell to the ground with a thud, leaving a pool of green liquid.

"Go to hell! You bunch of unhygienic beasts!!"

Sisyphus hid behind his expensive solid wood desk, holding a fine plasma pistol in his hand.

This gun was a self-defense weapon he smuggled from Shangchao at a high price. He used to just play with it, but he never expected it would be used to save his life today.

At this moment, Sisyphus had completely lost the air of an elegant businessman he once was.

His white coat was stained with blood, a piece of his glasses was broken, and his hair was a mess.

But he was still a respectable person.

Because he even stuffed two wads of cotton into his broken nostril in an attempt to block out the nauseating stench of decay in the air.

Outside the door was a group of lunatics.

They're a bunch of lunatics!

Just two hours ago, the submarine brought back a group of doctors who had been evacuated from the submarine.

Sisyphus thought it was a normal work rotation, but when the hatch opened, all that came out were these monsters covered in pustules, shouting "Father."

The plague spread at an alarming rate within the enclosed underwater base.

In Sisyphus's opinion, these guys who believed in the warp had completely lost their minds!

They don't kill people; they just want to hug you, to rub the pus from their bodies onto you, and to let you experience that "painless and itch-free immortality."

For Sisyphus, this was worse than death.

"Boss! Open the door!"

There was a banging sound outside the door, along with a muffled voice.

That was his financial director.

"The quarterly report is done...it's all made of sausage...it's absolutely beautiful..."

"Look at this green mold; it means profits are increasing!"

"Fuck your profits!!"

Sisyphus roared in despair and fired another shot.

"Sizzle—!"

The blue plasma cluster pierced through the heavily dented wooden door, creating a large hole in the CFO's stomach.

But it didn't work!

The body blessed by the evil spirits possesses an unreasonable and tenacious vitality.

Unless you burn them to ashes, even if only their heads are left, they will wriggle over and preach to you.

Sisyphus looked at the gun in his hand.

The red low battery warning light is flashing. Plasma weapons are powerful, but they consume energy very quickly.

He only had two shots left.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

Sisyphus threw away his pistol and pulled a hot melt gun from under the table.

"What kind of idiots are these?!"

He'd been in the underworld for so many years and had seen all sorts of lunatics.

Although the skinners in the industrial area were violent, at least they would just behead someone, skin them, and that was it.

Although the carnivals that are popular in the north are perverse, at least they still pay attention to sensory stimulation.

Only this so-called benevolent father!

Sisyphus was a capitalist with obsessive-compulsive disorder and a pure materialist who believed that wealth was the order.

He could not understand, and absolutely could not accept, such a filthy belief.

What's so good about turning your body into a pile of rotten flesh?

How can rotten meat wear a haute couture suit? How can rotten meat savor Armaic brandy? How can rotten meat count money?

If you lose the physical body to enjoy wealth, what's the point of living?!

This simple yet steadfast worldly desire has now become his most powerful spiritual shield against the corruption of chaos.

"I haven't earned enough yet! I haven't bought a house in Shangchao yet!"

Sisyphus gritted his teeth, tears welling up in his eyes.

The banging outside the door grew louder and louder, and a large crack had appeared in the wooden door.

A hand covered in green mold reached in, trying to grab the doorknob.

Sisyphus raised the hot melt gun and pulled the trigger.

"hiss--"

That hand was instantly vaporized.

But more hands reached in.

The entire base has fallen; all the bodyguards are dead or have defected.

He is now an isolated island.

In desperation, Sisyphus grabbed the emergency communicator on the table.

This was left to him by Andy, who said it was an encrypted channel directly connecting to the shelter.

"Connect me! Connect me now, you damn yellow-skinned canned food!"

Sisyphus roared into the microphone.

A burst of static came through the communicator, followed by Andy's incredibly annoying synthesized voice.

"Hello? I'm moving. What's up?"

Upon hearing that voice, Sisyphus almost burst into tears.

"Help!! Andy! Help!!"

"These lunatics are going to turn me into a mushroom!!"

"It's fine if I die, but nobody will honor that 70% profit-sharing agreement!"

"Did you hear that?! That's an entire quarter's worth of antibiotic profits!"

"And all my savings! My gold! They're all in this house!"

"If you don't come, all this money will go to these rotten bastards!!"

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

"Block the door."

Andy's voice remained steady, but to Sisyphus it sounded like heavenly music.

"Step back a bit, get away from that vent."

"I'll be right there."

Sisyphus paused for a moment.

Ventilation opening?

He subconsciously looked up at the exhaust grille in the corner of the office ceiling.

It connects to the external acid lake and also to the underground river network.

"Thump!"

A loud bang came from deep inside the ventilation duct.

This was followed by the sound of metal being violently torn apart.

"Creak—"

A ventilation opening nearly a meter wide was suddenly ripped off by a giant mechanical arm.

It fell to the ground along with the surrounding cement blocks.

Andy's signature, expressionless metal head peeked out from the hole.

He was covered in acid and carrying a chainsaw covered in a suspicious purple liquid.

"Long time no see, partner."

Andy looked at Sisyphus, who was trembling behind the table, and the group of Nurgle cultists trying to squeeze in outside the door.

The electronic eye flashed once.

"Oh dear, the XinYa Space has arrived."

Sisyphus: "Huh??"

"Oh, I mean, it seems you're going a bit overboard with your employee benefits."

"These guys are ecstatic."