12: Chapter 12 The Corpse King's Tax Bill

Inquisitor von Drake frowned imperceptibly.

He had seen countless planetary governors who were shifty, blustering, and trying to evade taxes, but the attitude of the person before him... was overly enthusiastic.

"According to preliminary scans, there are a large number of unregistered industrial facilities and armed forces on your planet's surface. Explain."

"It is all to better serve the Empire!"

Cheng Yu's smile did not fade.

"We have an abundance of starch and promethium here, and we've been worrying about how to ship it out!"

The Inquisitor's gaze sharpened.

"Scans show an abnormal population structure on your side. Explain why all individuals have identical biological characteristics."

Cheng Yu's smile stiffened for a moment, but quickly recovered.

"Well... subterranean radiation, yes, subterranean radiation! We are also very distressed by it!"

The other end of the communicator was silent for a few seconds.

"Governor."

Inquisitor von Drake's voice became colder.

"You have one Terra standard hour to prepare a complete explanation and accounts. At that time, I will send a landing party for an on-site inspection. If any deceit is discovered..."

He did not finish, but the threat was self-evident.

The communication was cut off.

Cheng Yu's smile vanished instantly.

"Prepare the 'welcome ceremony'." His consciousness spread across the network. "Execute Plan Seven."

The surface of Cheng Yu Planet immediately began to seethe.

Hundreds of millions of Cheng Yus Clones began to move methodically.

Weapons testing grounds were quickly covered up, promethium factories changed their appearance, and the entrances to underground lairs were cleverly disguised.

Most importantly—all the clones began to smear dirt and paint on themselves, trying to make themselves look "a little different"; the tattoos on their foreheads were far from enough.

Aria was brought before Cheng Yu.

"I need you to cooperate in a performance."

Cheng Yu said straightforwardly.

"Play the role of my Aeldari advisor."

Aria's eyebrows shot up.

"Are you insane? The Empire only opens fire on sight when they see Aeldari!"

"The Regent even has an Aeldari wife, and I haven't seen them open fire."

Cheng Yu handed her a set of rough human clothing.

"We must make them believe you are a tamed xenos slave."

Aria's expression became complex.

But when she saw the freshly baked starch cake sprinkled with salt in the hands of a Cheng Yus Clone, she silently accepted the clothes.

One Terra standard hour passed in a flash.

When the first Imperial landing craft touched down on the surface of Cheng Yu Planet, they were greeted by a "prosperous" scene.

The "distinct" Cheng Yus Clones wore coarse cloth clothes and were "working hard" in the fields.

The simple but tidy market was filled with starch products and rough handicrafts.

Inquisitor von Drake stepped off the landing craft, followed by twenty heavily armed Imperial Guards.

His gaze swept over the crowd that seemed slightly different, but was actually pervaded by an eerie uniformity everywhere.

"Governor," he said coldly, "take me to see your accounts."

Cheng Yu eagerly led the way, with Aria following behind with her head down; because the whole scene was so bizarre, no one even asked about the Aeldari.

When they passed a group of clones engaged in "normal market transactions," an accident occurred.

Because Cheng Yu Planet did not have enough goods to put on a show, the clones had also put out the Astra Militarum equipment captured from the Rogue Trader to sell.

One of the clones was even flamboyantly trying to sell Astra Militarum lasguns to these outsiders.

"Traitor!" The Inquisitor immediately drew his weapon and shot the clone who was selling the goods.

Cheng Yu sighed.

"I knew I couldn't fake it."

His consciousness instantly spread across the entire planet.

"Plan B."

All the clones stopped what they were doing at the same time.

Hundreds of millions of heads turned in unison toward the landing site.

Expressionless.

Inquisitor von Drake woke up in darkness.

His temples throbbed, and a numbing sensation from a stun gun remained on the back of his neck.

He blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light—the cell walls were rough rock, and a familiar figure was curled up in the corner:

Rogue Trader Ivankov, the smuggler he had personally registered.

"Awake?"

Ivankov grinned, revealing a few gold teeth.

"Welcome to the 'Cheng Yu Empire VIP Club,' Inquisitor."

Inquisitor von Drake sat up abruptly, the chains rattling—one of his wrists was cuffed to an iron ring on the wall.

He felt his body with his other hand; his uniform jacket and sidearm were long gone, leaving only a crumpled shirt.

"That madman... those clones..." he hissed.

"Clones?"

Ivankov sneered.

"I bet five Throne Gelt, that thing is way more sinister than a clone."

The cell door suddenly slid open, and a Cheng Yus Clone walked in carrying two metal trays, placing them on the floor expressionless.

Each plate had a baked starch cake, and one of them was sprinkled with a few grains of salt.

"Dinner." The clone said mechanically, then turned and left.

A glimmer of greed flashed in Ivankov's eyes, and he lunged for the salted cake, but Inquisitor von Drake stepped on his ankle first.

"Explain."

The Inquisitor said coldly, "Why is salt so important?"

The Rogue Trader grimaced in pain.

"Because it's the 'currency' here! That Aeldari bitch trades technology for salt, I trade my engine repair skills for salt, and you—"

He glanced at the shackles on Inquisitor von Drake's feet, "You'll probably have to trade with the Imperial ship's command codes."

Inquisitor von Drake released his foot.

Ivankov grabbed the salted cake and took a bite. The coarse starch mixed with the salty taste dissolved on his tongue, like chewing cardboard, but compared to the other bland cake, this was a delicacy.

"He will not succeed." The Inquisitor swallowed the food, his voice like quenched ice, "The Emperor's wrath will burn this planet to ash."

"Oh, my old friend, give it a rest." Ivankov rolled his eyes.

Inquisitor von Drake fell silent.

Suddenly, the door opened again. This time, Main Body walked in, toying with an Imperial Navy officer's identification tag—belonging to Inquisitor von Drake's adjutant.

"Your adjutant has already submitted, now it is your turn. What are the fleet's command codes?"

Cheng Yu said straightforwardly, "Or you can continue to enjoy our 'VIP service'—such as playing the 'whoever grabs the salted cake' game with Mr. Ivankov."

Ivankov grinned, "You might as well just eat his brain, like you did to those Orks."

Cheng Yu raised an eyebrow and chuckled. He stared at Inquisitor von Drake, "I certainly could do that, but the human brain is too fragile; swallowing it would only yield a pile of chaotic fragments... and what I want is complete fleet control and the full skills of an Inquisitor."

"Give it to him, you old stubborn fool! Do you want to chew on tasteless starch for the rest of your life?" Ivankov had already been tamed into a lackey.