70: Chapter 70 The disparity in combat strength is enormous!
The iron doors of the warehouse opened once more.
Squads of soldiers rushed out according to the prearranged plan, silently and swiftly converging on every entrance, exit, and designated position of the banquet hall.
Controlling the nobles in the banquet hall wasn't difficult; a group of pampered lords couldn't stir up much of a storm.
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The real trouble lay in the VIP lounge just a door away from the banquet hall—the private guards brought by those nobles and the mercenaries arranged there by Valerius were all ruthless characters who lived on the edge of a blade.
Fu Haoran knew very well that the real hard fight was yet to come.
...
Inside the banquet hall, the music was deafening, and the clinking of wine glasses was incessant.
"I heard the Governor is going to sell off his private property this time to apologize. I see this new Governor is truly scared out of his wits!" Baron Witt, with his red nose, hugged his female companion, his fat trembling as he laughed.
"He's probably realized it too—make a quick buck and run. After all, this broken planet is beyond saving anyway." The tall, thin noble beside him swirled his glass, his face full of disdain.
"The Tithe? Let him worry about that himself! What does it have to do with us?" Baron Klaus sneered. "I still have the property rights to three mining stars in other sectors. At worst, I'll just move."
"Exactly, who doesn't have some assets outside?" The balding Viscount Harris took a sip of wine, his hand dishonestly sliding into his companion's skirt. "Come on, baby, it's too noisy here. Let's find a quiet place..."
He led his companion toward the side door of the banquet hall, which connected to a backup safety passage rarely used under normal circumstances.
The moment he pushed the door open, Harris's drunken stupor mostly evaporated.
Outside the door stood a dense row of soldiers.
They wore flak armor, and the Laser Guns in their hands were fitted with bayonets, standing like a cold wall of iron. There was no shouting, only the creaking sound of alloy gun bodies being gripped tightly.
Standing at the very front was Sean, the one who had just been slapped by a noble.
Sean's eyes were as cold as ice, and the alloy rod in his hand was barred across the doorframe, blocking all paths out.
Harris retreated in terror, slamming the door shut, his back instantly drenched in cold sweat.
But as he looked back at the scene of singing and dancing in the banquet hall, he forced himself to calm down.
Fu Haoran dared to detain all the nobles of the Hive City? What a joke! Brigadier General Valerius's moon-class cruiser was still in orbit. Even with a hundred times more courage, he wouldn't dare to act!
Just then, the main lights of the banquet hall suddenly dimmed.
A single spotlight snapped on, hitting the stage in the center of the hall.
Fu Haoran stood in the beam of light at some point, positioned behind a lectern so that the crowd couldn't see clearly what he was wearing.
The noise in the room quieted down a bit. The nobles looked over one after another, their eyes filled with mockery and confusion.
"Thank you all for gracing us with your presence tonight," Fu Haoran began, his voice carrying through the speakers to every corner of the hall. "Your generosity tonight has left a deep impression on me, Fu Haoran."
A few scattered sneers rose from below, and someone even whistled.
"The ultimatum from the Imperial Tax Collector has just arrived," Fu Haoran continued. "Three hundred years of unpaid Tithes hang over the head of the entire Hive City like a blade."
"When the Hive City is in trouble, every man has a responsibility. I invited you all here tonight not just for a feast, but also to ask you to donate a portion of your family wealth to help the Hive City through this crisis."
The entire hall was silent for two seconds.
Then, it erupted into deafening laughter and angry curses.
"Hahaha! Donate money? You must be crazy!"
"On what grounds? Paying taxes is your business as Governor. What does it have to do with us?"
"I'd rather throw my money into the star sea to hear it splash than give it to you!"
"If you have the guts, come and take it! Tomorrow, Brigadier General Valerius's private fleet will point its cannons right at your Governor's Mansion!"
Laughter and curses exploded everywhere. Baron Klaus laughed so hard he couldn't even hold his wine glass steady, looking at Fu Haoran as if he were an idiot.
Fu Haoran stood in the spotlight, his face devoid of any expression.
Only when all the laughter had gradually subsided did he slowly speak again.
"It seems you are unwilling to cooperate."
"Since kind words are useless," Fu Haoran's voice suddenly turned cold, like a blade quenched in ice, "then don't blame me for showing no mercy."
He raised his hand and swung it down sharply!
"Do it!"
The front, back, and side doors of the banquet hall were instantly smashed open!
The red-eyed soldiers, who had been waiting outside, surged in like a bursting flood!
Sean charged at the very front, his eyes instantly locking onto Baron Klaus, the man who had kicked him. A long-suppressed low growl erupted from his throat as he raised the alloy rod high and charged straight at him!
Baron Klaus's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to call for his bodyguards, but before the words could come out, he was struck hard on the shoulder by the rod, falling to the ground with a scream.
Sean mounted him, raining down blows with the alloy rod, smashing all the grievances the Underhive people had suffered for three months—for over a decade—onto this noble.
None of the surrounding soldiers stopped him; they simply held their guns, staring dead at the nobles around them who might try to resist.
The banquet hall instantly turned into a chaotic mess.
The screams of noblewomen, the angry curses and cries of nobles, and the dull thuds of rods hitting flesh all blended together.
Fu Haoran stood on the stage, looking coldly at the chaos below, and then put on his helmet.
The real trouble was only just beginning.
Sure enough, the door leading from the banquet hall to the VIP lounge was kicked open violently.
Over a hundred fully armed private guards rushed in with their guns raised.
Fu Haoran calmly pulled out his Stubber. The moment he pulled the trigger, Ronan, who was guarding behind the door with the Powered Armor soldiers, fired simultaneously. The dense firepower instantly mowed down the mercenaries charging at the front.
However, the mercenaries and private guards hiding on both sides of the door fared no better. The terrifying penetration of the hellguns was on full display as the walls were shot straight through.
After emptying a drum magazine, Fu Haoran dropped the Stubber and pulled out a standard Space Marine Chainsword.
He didn't choose a shield because such a thing was a joke in front of the Aeldari, and then he beckoned with his finger toward the second floor.
By a pillar on the second floor, Laelith watched the chaos below, the smile on her lips growing wider.
She casually tossed her empty wine glass aside, her fingertips brushing against the poisoned dagger at her waist.
"Alright, it's time for me to make my entrance in this grand play."
The other Drukhari wanted to follow her down, but they heard Laelith's command: "You stay here. This is an interesting duel, a performance belonging to me alone."
"Besides, there is a lady who doesn't want you going down to cause trouble."
Lucifer appeared at her side at some point, a hyperphase blade appearing in her hand.
Memories from their bloodline caused all the Drukhari to subconsciously enter a combat state, yet none dared to move.
Laelith ignored them and dropped down lightly, twirling her dagger between her fingers.
There was no fun in slaughtering a Governor who surrendered; tearing apart a prey that dared to resist with her own hands was the true joy of a Wych of Commorragh.
She wanted to see where this human Governor, who dared to flip the table, got the courage to challenge her.
Laelith landed on a dining table, her bare feet silent, her red hair swaying slightly.
She just stood there, looking at Fu Haoran, who was clad in Powered Armor and holding a Chainsword.
Her gaze was calm, like a deity looking down at an ant, or a cat watching a mouse struggling under its paw.
It was the unmasked contempt brought about by an absolute disparity in strength.
Seeing Laelith's sexy and elegant figure with her scant clothing, Fu Haoran felt no interest in appreciation whatsoever.
[Laelith Hesperax (Drukhari)]
[Attributes: Strength 80, Agility 95, Constitution 75, Spirit 85]
Fu Haoran took another look at his own attributes.
[Attributes: Strength 35 (+30), Agility 21 (+16), Constitution 60 (+70), Spirit 15]
Even with the enhancement of Powered Armor, his core Agility attribute was nearly half of hers, not to mention the opponent's thousands of years of combat experience—it was a crushing disparity!
But Fu Haoran still activated the Chainsword.
The chain teeth spun at high speed, emitting a piercing roar.
He knew the probability of him winning was less than one in ten thousand.
But he had to go.
Because he was the Governor.