134: Chapter 134 Möbius

At this moment, 1.2 billion kilometers away from Outpost Planet 586.

This was the primary planet named [Mobius], and it served as the capital world of this remote Yuanwang Star System.

Its administrative status was similar to a national capital in the Earth era.

It was a very standard Imperial Hive City world.

There was almost no natural scenery left on the planet's surface. Steel towers soared into the clouds, and the civilian population living within these Hive Cities alone numbered as many as twenty billion.

In the settlements outside the Hive Cities, where conditions were harsh, nearly six billion low-level wastelanders struggled to survive.

A massive population base and advanced industrial technology.

But this by no means represented civilization.

Slavery still flourished in the dark corners of this planet.

The nobles standing at the top of the pyramid still enjoyed the dividends of flesh and blood brought by their superior status with a clear conscience.

And at the very top of this biological chain of dividends was the current head of the House Rofis—Cromon Rofis.

This man standing at the pinnacle of power looked very young.

Judging by his face, which had been maintained through expensive genetic life-extension surgeries, he appeared to be in his early forties at most.

At this time.

Cromon was sitting in his luxurious office at the top of the Hive City's tallest building, holding a glass of pure red wine produced from an Agri-World, casually flipping through reports on his desk.

"Forge World Gorgon III has had another low-level worker rebellion. The local Governor claims the rebellion's leader is suspected to be a Logic Sect heretic from outside the system."

"Agri-World Ceres has encountered an unprecedented radiation storm due to a stellar sunspot eruption; this quarter's natural food quota will be reduced by another thirty percent."

Cromon tossed the report onto the desk and rubbed his temples.

To him, these weren't actually major issues.

The House Rofis had operated in this star system for thousands of years, and their foundations were unfathomably deep.

Such low-level riots and natural disasters happened every year; they could be suppressed just by sending a few Defense Force units or mercenaries.

What truly worried him were the severe warnings issued by the system's Astropath array over the past half-month.

The Warp had been completely sealed off.

According to the projection data provided by the family's internal analysts.

This level of Warp silence was likely a Shadow in the Warp caused by the approach of some massive biological swarm.

"The Swarm..."

Cromon walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the endless steel jungle beneath his feet.

Once, as one of the few prosperous human worlds on the edge of the Ghoul Stars, a full Astra Militarum regiment had been stationed here.

But a few years ago, because war against Chaos broke out again at the distant northern fortress.

Not only was the Astra Militarum here completely redeployed, but they even took a large amount of the Governors Mansion's reserve military supplies and heavy weapons with them.

The local Defense Force currently on Mobius, though well-equipped, was mostly a group of security police who only knew how to suppress rioters on the streets.

They hadn't fought a real war in many years.

If a splinter fleet of Tyranids really drifted over.

He feared the entire system would be devoured into ruins within just a few months.

Worse still.

With the Warp sealed, the Astropath's distress signals couldn't be sent out at all.

The only way to call for reinforcements was to dispatch ships equipped with conventional sub-light engines to cross the vast physical distance to the nearest Astra Militarum fortress.

Setting aside whether such a ship could find help before the bugs arrived.

The mysterious ancient wreckage at the edge of the system had suddenly experienced strange gravitational tide anomalies in recent months.

This made physical navigation routes extremely dangerous, making it a pipe dream to even send out a distress ship.

Just as Cromon was irritably considering his options.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The ornate wooden door of the office was knocked upon.

"Enter." Cromon hid his worry and regained the dignity befitting a family head.

A thin young man wearing flamboyant noble attire pushed open the door and came running in, stumbling and crawling.

His face carried an obvious sob:

"Brother-in-law! I have some very bad news for you!"

Cromon's heart skipped a beat.

This brother-in-law of his usually only hung around underground casinos and pleasure houses, never doing anything productive.

Seeing him act like the sky was falling gave Cromon a faint sense of unease.

"What's the panic! Stand up straight and speak!"

Cromon scolded him coldly.

The thin man swallowed and said tremulously:

"Brother-in-law, do you remember my cousin? Soros, who was exiled by the family to be the governor of that remote junkyard planet!"

"What happened to him?"

"He's dead! I just received an urgent telegram. He was brutally murdered by those loathsome natives on the junkyard!"

The man complained through tears,

"Supposedly, a Greenskin siege broke out there. My cousin was heroic and fearless, personally going to the front lines to oversee the battle! But he didn't expect those despicable and savage native officers to mutiny. They not only brutally murdered him but also seized his position and made themselves governor!"

The man became more excited as he spoke:

"Brother-in-law! They simply don't respect our House Rofis! We must send troops to give them a bloody lesson! Hang all those traitors on the city walls, then chop them up into starch blocks to feed the bottom-tier vermin!"

After hearing this, Cromon's brow immediately furrowed.

This rhetoric, full of holes, was clearly just a one-sided story from his attendants to shift blame.

Would Soros, that idiot whose head was filled with grease and greed, heroically go to the front lines to oversee a battle?

It was already good enough if he wasn't counting gold coins in the Governors Mansion!

He most likely encountered danger and tried to run away with the money, only to be shot on the spot by his own army.

"Soros is really dead?" Cromon confirmed coldly.

"Absolutely certain!" The man vowed, "I heard his head was blown into a rotten watermelon by a large-caliber Bolter, so badly it couldn't even be sewn back together!"

Cromon turned around, looking at the scenery outside the window, quickly weighing the pros and cons in his mind.

Even though he knew this was eighty percent Soros's own fault.

After all, the one who died was a member of the House Rofis and the legally appointed governor by the star system capital.

As the family head, regardless of whether his own people were right or wrong, as long as something happened outside, he had to step in and resolve it with thunderous means.

This was the ruling precept passed down through generations of the House Rofis.

If they swallowed their pride even over a native rebellion on a remote junkyard, the family's prestige in the entire sector would collapse instantly.

Furthermore.

Recently, many hot-headed young noble scions in the family had been shouting every day about forming an expeditionary force to go to the front lines to serve the Emperor.

In reality, they just wanted to get some battle merits so they could come back and brag at social banquets.

It was perfect to use this junkyard planet for them to practice on.

Cromon was very familiar with the background of that junkyard known as the Outpost Planet.

Because the natives there dealt with Greenskins every day, their ground forces did indeed have some combat capability.

But they had no interstellar navy of their own, let alone any decent orbital defense weapons.

Faced with orbital bombardment from the family's escort fleet, those natives would have no means of resistance other than kneeling on the ground and waiting for death.

"I understand."

Cromon turned around, his tone as flat as if he were deciding the fate of a stray dog,

"Notify the First Escort Fleet. I will send a suppression force consisting of three destroyers and five thousand elite privateers to go and bring the killers back."

After the excited brother-in-law left.

Cromon picked up the glass of red wine again, preparing to savor it slowly.

"Bang."

Without even a knock, the office door was unceremoniously pushed open.

A young girl wearing slim-fitting work clothes and a sharp ponytail walked in boldly.

Behind her followed a silent man with a red bandana tied around his head and muscles like blocks of steel.

The girl walked straight to the desk, leaning her hands on it, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Cromon.

"Brother! I heard the family fleet is preparing to set out for that junkyard planet?"

The girl said excitedly,

"Can my geological survey ship follow the fleet's route? There's an ancient mineral vein there that I've been eyeing for a long time! Of course, I'll bring Cork; no one can hurt us. Right, Cork?"

The man with the red bandana didn't speak, only nodding silently, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's.

Cromon glanced at this man named Cork.

He was a rare Catachan Jungle Fighter mercenary.

Although he wasn't born on the Death World of Catachan itself, but was a descendant of Catachans raised on mercenary ships.

But Cromon would never underestimate this man's combat prowess.

This was a personal death-sworn guard their late father had paid a high price to hire for this willful sister.

From the moment the contract was signed, the word 'loyalty' was the only thing in this Catachan mercenary's dictionary; he only obeyed the girl's orders and didn't even give Cromon any face.

Cromon thought about it.

The fleet going to that backward junkyard to suppress a rebellion was nothing more than a formality—dropping a few bombs from orbit to scare the natives; there probably wouldn't be any substantial danger.

Rather than letting this curious sister cause trouble in the Hive City every day, it was better to let her go with the main force to see the world.

"Go ahead." Cromon nodded and warned, "The survey ship must stay within the fleet's fire network at all times. Be safe."

"Yay! Thanks, brother!" The girl cheered and skipped out of the office.

...

At this time.

1.2 billion kilometers away.

Outpost Planet 586, Fire Seed Shelter surface camp.

With the Greenskin crisis resolved and the absolute military power and miracles Lin Li displayed in Coastal City.

The other regional tribes and survivor camps that were still observing no longer had any doubts.

They sent representatives one after another, expressing their willingness to unconditionally join the [Spark Alliance].

To completely integrate the human forces on this planet.

Lin Li decided to hold the first All-Planet United Assembly at the Shelter's surface camp!

In a spacious meeting room.

Today, it was filled with over a hundred representatives dressed in various styles, representing different class interests.

Among them were Northwest Nomad leaders dressed in rough animal skins;

Family patriarchs from the western coastal highlands wearing old-style military coats;

Representatives of the four major families of Red Lake Town.

The newly appointed Archon of Shahe Town, Governor Jia Mei.

And, of course, representatives from the newly incorporated Coastal City.

Among them were cautious wealthy tycoons, low-ranking Defense Force officers, and Cleon, the gang leader who commanded great influence among the lower classes.

Besides the native representatives.

The internal forces of Fire Seed Shelter were also all present.

Black Rat, Kane, Ironhead, and several player legion guild leaders.

In the corner of the meeting room, a few special observer seats had even been set up.

Iron Man 73, Stone Man Hong, and the dwarf Vaughn, who had ended up staying here by chance, were sitting there quietly listening.

What was surprising was that.

As the absolute core of this meeting and the actual ruler of the entire planet.

Lin Li actually did not sit in the main seat at the very front of the long table today.

On that main seat, which represented supreme power, lay only a single, not-very-thick paper book.

Of course.

For such a historically significant main storyline event, how could the The Fourth Calamity, who loved to watch the excitement, be missing from outside the door?

Outside the transparent glass windows of the meeting room, the space was already crowded with the heads of numerous players.

"Whoa! This is an all-star lineup! Every NPC with a name and face on this planet is basically all here."

"What is the Boss trying to do? A roundtable meeting? Relinquishing military power over wine? Or a reenactment of the Last Supper?"

"Looks like they're having a spoils-sharing meeting."