98: Chapter 98 Two Scoundrels Cooperating

Reader Discussion: What exactly happened? Come join the discussion.

The tunnel grew wider as they progressed, and the stench of blood and filth became increasingly pungent.

The skeletal remains on the ground shifted from scattered pieces to a sea of layered bones, mixed with the metallic wreckage of mechs, all crushed to dust underfoot.

Fu Haoran raised his hand.

Remember the original website domain.

The team came to an immediate halt.

The shadows on the rock walls dispersed, revealing a slender figure standing in the center.

With a bald head and pale skin, her Hive City noble attire was spotless, and her vertical pupils glinted with a cold light; it was none other than the Lady Bishop of the Genestealer Cult, Moriah Ten-Claws.

She raised a hand to brush over the bone ornaments on her chest, and a psychic roar filled the entire passage: "Impure vermin, how dare you disturb the Great Father's slumber! Today, you shall all be torn into ten thousand pieces!"

Dredd showed no mercy to the fairer sex, chambering a round into his bolter and aiming the muzzle directly at the Lady Bishop's head: "Cult leader, die."

Bang!

The thunderous roar shattered the rocks on the tunnel walls.

A massive creature descended from above, its four claws slamming into the ground with enough force to create a web of cracks, as a foul, acidic stench wafted toward them.

Standing nearly six meters tall, its entire body was covered in a black carapace as hard as rock. Its four giant claws were as thick as a grown man's arm, and its six cloudy compound eyes were locked onto the group, green acid dripping from its mouthparts.

It was the newly awakened Genestealer Patriarch.

It hadn't been dormant deep within the cult's Sanctuary at all; it had long since circled to the rear of the team to ambush them. Even Tychus's psychic perception hadn't been able to capture a single trace of it.

The Patriarch threw its head back and roared, the sound waves making everyone's eardrums ache as rubble cascaded down from the rock walls.

In the midst of that roar, Fu Haoran moved.

Ignoring all sense of martial honor, he gripped a massive Chain-disc and thrust it directly toward the gaps in the soft armor of the Patriarch's abdomen.

He aimed specifically for weak points with lethal intent, showing no respect whatsoever.

"Roar!"

The Patriarch howled in pain, its giant claw sweeping out and slamming violently into the surface of the Chain-disc.

Crack!

The thick Chain-disc was swatted until it cracked, most of its teeth flying off as it was completely rendered useless.

This weapon had a large surface area and high lethality, but its defensive weakness was fatal; after taking a full-strength blow from the Patriarch, it was scrapped on the spot.

Fu Haoran discarded the ruined saw without hesitation, showing no surprise on his face, only a hint of regret: "It was durable enough, just had a bit of a short lifespan."

The Patriarch's giant claw, carrying a fierce wind, lunged straight at him.

Fu Haoran retreated rapidly, flipping his wrist to produce a dark shotgun, pressing the muzzle firmly against the Patriarch's chest.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gunshots rang out in rapid succession; this wasn't the standard single-shot mode of a regular shotgun. A torrent of firepower poured out like popping corn, the pellets slamming into the Patriarch's carapace and blasting open large bloody welts.

Dredd watched in shock, hissing in a low voice, "That's a Navy Boarding Shotgun; it can only fire single shots! How did you make it fire in bursts?"

Fu Haoran tossed aside the empty magazine, his tone flat: "I just added a rotating component. A minor modification, not worth mentioning."

The chest wound didn't suppress the Patriarch; instead, it completely ignited its ferocity. Its compound eyes turned blood-red, and its psychic pressure surged several times over.

Dredd made an immediate decision, turning to charge toward the Lady Bishop: "I'll go capture the Bishop and cut off its psychic support!"

Fu Haoran's face was full of questions as he complained on the spot, "Are you serious, man? Where are the other exits in this sealed passage? How much faith do you have that we can pin down this monster?"

Fu Haoran was baffled: "Are you for real? This sealed tunnel doesn't even have a mouse hole; are you afraid she'll run away?"

"Or are you confident that we won't be swatted to death by this six-meter-tall monster before you get back?"

Complaints aside, Fu Haoran didn't stop moving. He didn't engage in melee with the Patriarch at all, instead leaping backward to perfectly dodge a tail sweep.

"Get it!"

The executioner mech seized the opening, its engine roaring as it charged forward. Its iron fist slammed into the Patriarch's chest, forcing the six-meter beast to stumble to its knees.

The Patriarch rose in a rage, its giant claw sweeping out with a crack, forcibly tearing an arm off the mech. Metal cables dangled down, spraying electric sparks.

The executioner mech was, after all, only equipment for mortals. It was more than enough for dealing with thugs and mutants, but against this awakened Genestealer Patriarch, it was completely outmatched.

Dredd's heart sank halfway.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The roar of a heavy bolter erupted.

Tychus held the heavy bolter, pouring out firepower frantically as the ammunition belt rattled loudly.

But even though the heavy bolter rounds pierced the carapace, the Patriarch only roared in pain and kept moving, directly knocking the weapon out of Tychus's hands.

The Patriarch swung its giant claw, aiming for Tychus's head, clearly wanting to shred this annoying Ogryn first.

But in the next second, Tychus flipped his hands and pulled out two Power Mauls, blue-white electricity coiling around the shafts.

Then, swinging both arms, he aimed straight for the Patriarch's forehead.

You might say the Patriarch was six meters tall, and even on its knees, it was over three meters.

But Tychus would say that no one ever made a rule that an Ogryn couldn't jump.

And so, two clubs came down.

"Aow!"

The Patriarch retracted its giant claw in pain. By the time it wanted to counter-attack, Tychus had already slipped away like grease underfoot, disappearing instantly. He hit and ran, showing no desire to linger in the fight.

The Genestealer Patriarch's brain stalled for half a second before it reacted.

He ran?

If the Patriarch could speak, it would surely be cursing quite foully right now.

Fortunately, the Genestealer Patriarch could only hiss impotently, like a frustrated husband.

However, in the shadows around the corner, a certain camper had been waiting for a long time.

Just as the Patriarch rounded the corner, Fu Haoran, who had been waiting, fired a shot from his Plasma Pistol right into the Patriarch's knee.

Sizzle~

The plasma beam burned through the soft armor, and green ichor geysered out. The Patriarch let out a screech so shrill its voice broke, dropping to its knees on the spot.

Tychus flicked his wrist, accurately tossing three High-explosive Grenades into the Patriarch's lap.

The Patriarch instinctively used its giant claws to shield its chest, but right then, Fu Haoran pulled out a dagger and lunged with lightning speed—a knife to the rear, a real eye-opener!

The dagger was buried deep into the soft tissue of the Patriarch's tailbone, leaving only the hilt exposed.

Agony surged into its mind, and the Patriarch threw its head back with a scream, instinctively loosening the giant claws guarding its chest.

The three grenades rolled through the gap and into its embrace.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of explosions went off, green ichor splashing everywhere. The carapace on the Patriarch's chest was completely shattered, with not an inch of intact skin left.

Tychus watched, his own rear tightening instinctively as he shrank back a little.

Fu Haoran brushed the dust off his hands, looking perfectly innocent: "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't the one who stabbed it."

Tychus glared at him: "Then who was it?!"

"It ran into it itself, what does it have to do with me?"

Fu Haoran shrugged. "I just held the knife out, and it insisted on running into it."

As the smoke cleared, the Genestealer Patriarch slowly rose.

This monster's vitality was absurdly resilient. Covered in blood, it still stood up, its rage meter completely maxed out as its six compound eyes glared fixedly at the two bastards in front of it.

Fu Haoran and Tychus didn't even exchange a look before they bolted, sprinting in opposite directions as if terrified that a second's delay would result in being sold out by the other.

The Patriarch didn't hesitate for a moment, decisively locking onto Fu Haoran. Its gaze was determined, its pace... a limping waddle, its backside tightly clenched.

Fu Haoran grumbled unhappily as he ran: "What the hell? Tychus is clearly an easier target, why chase me? Just because I'm handsome?"

He completely ignored the fact that only a knife handle was sticking out of the Patriarch's backside.

Tychus glanced at it and instinctively rubbed his own rear; it looked painful just watching.

Fu Haoran wasn't polite either, pulling out every grenade on his person as he ran, pulling the pins one by one and tossing them casually behind him.

Having learned its lesson from being ambushed, the Patriarch finally grew wary. Between stepping on something painful and being blown up, it chose to leap through the air, easily avoiding the grenades on the ground.

However, the Patriarch was also vulnerable mid-air.

The executioner mech, with only one arm remaining, lunged forward fiercely, slamming into the mid-air Patriarch and knocking it back as its lone iron fist struck again.

The Patriarch kicked out in a fury, sending the mech flying into the rock wall, where it completely shut down.

The battle instantly reached a fever pitch.

However, the Patriarch's condition was not good. At the shattered wound on its chest, granulation tissue writhed frantically, but it could only barely stop the gushing ichor and could not repair the broken carapace. Every breath it took was accompanied by green bloody froth.

Even though it was covered in wounds, its offensive became increasingly violent, a fight to the death.

Fu Haoran glanced at Tychus and saw right through his little scheme.

This Ogryn looked like he was fighting fiercely, but in reality, he was only blocking and not attacking, taking three steps back for every hit. He was purely slacking off, clearly not wanting to go all-in against the awakened Patriarch, hoping to save his strength to run away.

Fu Haoran sneered inwardly: "Want to slack off? No way. Today, I'm tying this guy to me for good."

Fu Haoran deliberately slowed his pace, leading the Patriarch toward Tychus.

Tychus soon discovered that a certain someone was like sticky candy that he couldn't shake off!

The Patriarch didn't mind going for a double kill, sweeping out with its claws.

Tychus's face turned green as he hammered away a sharp claw, turning back to curse at Fu Haoran: "Is this all you've got? You only know how to screw over your own people?!"

Fu Haoran unhurriedly circled to the Patriarch's side, drawing a spare Chainsword to hack at a gap in the carapace, not forgetting to retort: "I'm helping you build your reputation. After this battle, your heroic deeds will be enough for you to brag about for a lifetime."

"Brag my ass!" Tychus slammed his club down again. "I'm going to be bragged to death by you!"

Pincered by the two, the Patriarch hissed in anger, one claw sweeping toward Tychus and the other swatting at Fu Haoran.

Fu Haoran dodged to the side and shouted to Tychus: "Left!"

Without even thinking, Tychus's Power Maul slammed directly into the Patriarch's left leg.

At the same time, Fu Haoran swung his Chainsword, hacking into the right leg.

The two coordinated seamlessly; the Patriarch stumbled, nearly falling to its knees.

Tychus froze for a moment, looking at the maul in his hand and then at Fu Haoran.

"How the hell... did you know I was hitting the left?"

Fu Haoran grinned. "Because when you were cursing me just now, your eyes drifted to the left for a second."

Tychus fell silent.

He suddenly felt that having this devious bastard as a teammate was even scarier than having him as an enemy.

In the instant the three were locked in combat, the Patriarch suddenly threw its head back, its six compound eyes glowing with a fierce crimson light. A violent Psychic Beacon centered on it, expanding frantically through the entire Underhive.

Rumble!

The entire passage vibrated violently, and from all directions came the sound of dense, scuttling hisses, getting closer and louder.

Fu Haoran's expression changed abruptly.

He had forgotten that the Genestealer Patriarch was the psychic core of the cult. A beacon released near death would draw every Genestealer in the Underhive to this location.

The communicator suddenly crackled to life, and Ronan's roar came through over the sound of gunfire: "Governor! The Genestealer Tide has gone crazy! We can't hold the elevator entrance much longer!"

[System Hint: Host, the Genestealer Patriarch's Psychic Beacon has taken effect. All the bugs in the Underhive are rushing here; you're being surrounded.]

At both ends of the passage, a dark tide of Genestealers surged forward like a flood, their dense compound eyes glinting with cold light in the darkness, completely blocking all paths of retreat.

Tychus swung his maul to send a pouncing Purestrain Genestealer flying, then moved close to Fu Haoran, standing back-to-back. He panted and cursed, "This is all your fault! You just had to provoke this damn bug. Now look, we're going to be picked clean until there's not even a bone left!"

Fu Haoran pulled out his last remaining dagger, his gaze sharp: "Now you know how to panic? It felt pretty good when you were slacking off, didn't it? If you want to live, stop hiding your strength. We hold this together."

Tychus curled his lip but gripped his dual Power Mauls even tighter, his psychic aura fully releasing as he stopped holding back: "If I die, I'll come back as a ghost to haunt you!"

The battle continued for an unknown amount of time.

The Patriarch was covered in blood, but it simply wouldn't die; instead, its attacks became increasingly frenzied.

Fu Haoran was gasping for air, his ammunition nearly depleted.

Suddenly, Tychus stopped in his tracks, the purple light in his eyes flashing frantically.

"Governor." His voice had lost its playfulness, leaving only gravity. "In my psychic perception, something is approaching."

Fu Haoran's heart sank. "What is it?"

Tychus closed his eyes, and when he opened them a few seconds later, his face was deathly pale.

"It's not just the Genestealers in the Underhive... it's in the sector. There's a massive psychic signal moving this way. It's overwhelming... nothing but hungry consciousness."

Fu Haoran understood instantly.

The Genestealer Patriarch was calling for reinforcements!

No, it hadn't just summoned the Genestealers from the Underhive; it had likely alerted a Tyranid vanguard fleet in the sector!

Fu Haoran glanced at the raging Patriarch before him, then at the Genestealer Tide appearing on his auspex, and gritted his teeth:

"Kill this one first. As for the rest, we'll deal with them after he's dead."

Tychus was silent for a second, then grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.

"Fine. Anyway, if the sky falls, you're the one standing tall."

He hoisted his Power Mauls and stood beside Fu Haoran.

The two exchanged a look, and without further words, they charged toward the Patriarch simultaneously.

This pair of scoundrels, who traded insults while they fought, were now completely tied together—either they would live together, or they would die together.

Author 'Luodi Bujue' recommends reading 'Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor, Three Hundred Years in Tax Arrears'. Use the 'Renren Shuku' app to download and install.