40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 1 1. Coming for you
Khalil Rohars raised his head and glanced at the gargoyle squatting above his head.The monster made of stone was silently looking into the distance of the night, opened its mouth fiercely, and roared silently.

"Goodbye," Khalil said to it.

He stretched out his hand from under the cover of the eaves, his skin was pale, and there was a conspicuous tattoo on his wrist.After just a few seconds, the palm of his hand felt the cold raindrops, which made him withdraw his hand immediately.

However, there was already a slight burning sensation in the palm of his hand at this moment.

Khalil curled his lips, a kind of displeasure was flashing on that pale face, but it disappeared quickly.

"Very good," he said to himself. "It's raining."

He turned around and moved his feet a little away so as not to be soaked in blood.As for the source of the blood, you have to ask the distended corpse at his feet.

Khalil bent down and turned the body over.His movements were gentle, but he heard a dull slap as he did so.

He knew that it was the sound of the corpse's internal organs falling out of the chest and abdomen and touching the ground.

This made Khalil sigh, and began to wonder if his craft had regressed.

It was just a swipe from bottom to top, how could it open his intestines like this?

As he thought about it, he tore off the cloak from the corpse.The side that was facing inside was still stained with blood, so Khalil had to shake it out and turn it over so that it could be worn.

A little knowledge, when it rains in Nostramo, if you have to go out at this time, then you'd better find something to cover yourself.

If not, don't go out from the place that can provide shelter from the wind and rain.

As for the reason
In Nostramo, the rain is poisonous.

He walked out of the eaves, and there were no pedestrians on the road, but there were many prying eyes in the darkness, staring at the shadow walking in a cloak with hungry eyes.

This is true of the Quintus lair in Nostramo, or any lair on Nostramo.

They are always crowded, always fetid, full of choking fumes.The natural environment has long been destroyed by endless mining, and the sunlight left Nostramo a long time ago.

Gangs have divided up large and small territories, replaced law with violence, and controlled everything.However, they are actually just dogs raised by the upper-class nobles.

Between breaths, Khalil smelled a strong smell of rust.The damned smell filled his mouth, making his tongue like a rusty nickel stuck between his jaws.

That sticky feeling disgusted him very much, and what made him even more disgusted was that he found that he was used to this feeling.

Thinking of this, Khalil twitched the corners of his mouth and smiled, his shoulders naturally relaxed and drooped, and there were two silver lights looming on the cuffs.

It's raining.

It's a great day to kill.

He walked all the way, across the dark metal bridges, through the narrow shantytowns, and as he passed here, he could hear the restless murmurs of the people in the shantytowns sleeping at night.

The smile on Khalil's face began to grow bigger and bigger, until it became a terrifying grin that made the beholder flustered.The skin was lifted stiffly by the muscles, and the teeth rubbed slightly in the air.

The suffering, the perishing, the oppressed.Even in his sleep, he only dared to curse in a low voice.

Toxic chemicals filled the air, swallowing the lungs, hearts, and bodies of these poor workers.

It also eats up their feelings, eats up everything about them.But the perpetrator enjoys everything in his exquisite home, and doesn't even have to witness the death of the oppressed.

None of this is fair, is it?
Khalil continued to walk, and about half an hour later, he climbed over the towering wall lightly and came to the door of a church.

It was so eerie, amidst the low night and the poisonous acid rain.Two gargoyles gazed at him from the spire and stained-glass windows.The raindrops fell vertically and smashed into pieces.

"good evening."

Khalil greeted softly.His Nostramo hissed in the damp stench of the rain.

He took a step and walked forward, his posture was quite different from when he was walking on the street.The leather boots touched the ground without making any sound, and the speed was astonishingly fast, more like sliding than walking.

Just like that, Khalil came to the side door of the church and put his hand on the handle. After half a breath, the heavy and locked metal door opened spontaneously, and Khalil didn't even push the door.

He smiled slightly, and a deep blue light flickered in his eyes.
-
"The money that Korpa and his gang have paid is not enough, Father."

Said a man with tattoos on his face.

His skin was as pale as all the other Nostramos, and his pupils were completely black, but his figure was not.

Most Nostramos were emaciated from famine and oppression from above, but he was strong.

The person he called the priest didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes and folded his fingers together.At this moment, he is kneeling down devoutly under the statue and praying.

"Father."

The tattooed man called again hesitantly, this time, the priest opened his eyes.

He stood up, and the man swallowed uncontrollably.There is no other reason, the priest is too tall.Seeing the oppression he felt when he stood up was like witnessing a mountain move his back in front of you, it was creepy.

"The mine north of Korpa?" the priest asked.

His voice didn't fit his figure, it wasn't heavy or deep, but rather gentle.The Nostramo language that came out of his mouth unexpectedly carried some elegance.

This is not the accent of the lower class.

"Yes." The tattooed man replied. "The pit where the fine gold mines were produced."

The priest sighed.

"Always," he said slowly. "There are always people who think that they can escape God's gaze. I give them my blessings, but they don't cherish them."

The man with the tattoo lowered his head—he didn't dare to answer the priest's words. It was the priest's prerogative to talk about God and God's grace in the church.

"Send someone tomorrow."

The priest waved his hand slowly.

"Bring Colpa to me, and I will make him understand with my own hands the precious love that God has bestowed upon us. A sinner like him who committed the crime of ungodliness should be burnt to pieces in Hell."

He stopped his voice and stared at the man silently. His gaze was like a knife blade, scraping the man's bone marrow coldly, making him tremble uncontrollably.

Finally, the priest spoke again slowly.

"Also, don't bother me at night anymore, this is my prayer time."

"Yes, Father." The man hurriedly bowed his head and agreed, his back was already wet with fine sweat.

"Then, are you devout, Father?"

A voice suddenly sounded, and then, there was the sharp sound of metal rubbing against each other.There were no lights in the church, only a few candles burning quietly near the statue.Their tiny light is not enough to dispel the darkness.

In the misty darkness, something was moving.

The expression of the tattooed man changed suddenly. He immediately came to the priest and took out a pistol from his waist.

The appearance of that thing is very rough, the handle is even just a wooden board wrapped with tape, but it can kill a mutant beast in the wilderness outside the Hive Capital with one shot.

"Of course I'm devout."

The priest didn't seem to be flustered, he spoke softly. "And you, sir? Did you come to my church late at night to confess to me?"

"Oh confession?"

A low laugh came from the darkness: "I do have something to confess. Well, Father, I killed a lot of people. At first, I was just a bully who oppressed the miners. I hung him in his room."

"Then, I started to get out of control. The second is a bastard who uses drugs to control children to sell their bodies."

"As for the most recent one. Let me think about it. An unlicensed physician who likes to eat patients. I took him apart."

Hearing this, the tattooed man's hands trembled violently, and his face became terrified. He had already realized something.

The priest gently raised his hand and placed it on his right shoulder, stabilizing the unstoppable trembling.

Then, he said: "From your description, I guess, you are the vengeful spirit, right?"

"Revenge for whom?" The man in the darkness asked back. "In this city, no one knows me, who am I going to avenge?"

"So, you didn't kill for justice."

"justice?"

Suddenly, there was a burst of sharp and piercing laughter in the darkness.

The priest frowned, and the hand he was holding on the tattooed man's right shoulder was also clenched at this moment. The huge force made the man let out a pained grunt. Even so, he didn't dare to make any big movements.

There are monsters watching in the dark, and behind him, there is also a monster.He didn't know which was scarier.

"Justice exists," the priest said slowly. "You are too extreme."

"is it?"

"Yes."

"So, do gods exist?"

"Nature exists too."

A deep laugh came from the darkness, and a man in a cloak walked out of the darkness.

"Father, if God really exists, why doesn't He, who is omniscient and omnipotent, send down thunder to punish us?"

"Because He has mercy on us." The priest said calmly. "He wants us to find our way back, not to wash away our flesh with destruction."

The tattooed man let out a low hiss of pain.

The priest's tone was calm, but the force exerted by his right hand was getting stronger and stronger.This is the source of pain for tattooed men.

The man in the cloak laughed again. He put down his hand, took off the cloak, and threw it aside.

His skin color and eyes are the same as those of all Nostramos, his skin is pale like a corpse, his eyes are as dark as a tombstone, the colors are opposite, but they co-exist.

The priest stared at him, and at the moment when his eyes met and he saw the man's face clearly, he exerted all his strength and crushed the tattooed man's shoulder blades.

A scream like a wild animal broke out suddenly, and the tattooed man fell to the ground, and the gun fell to the ground.Blood started to spread on the floor.

"My name is Khalil, Khalil Rohars, Father," Khalil said with a smile. "How does this surname sound to you, does it sound familiar?"

The priest raised his hand sullenly, and unbuttoned his robe.He took off the heavy and solemn black priest's robe little by little, and threw it on the notice stand beside him.The body under the robe is full of vertical and horizontal scars.

On the chest, there is a tattoo.

"Familiar," said the priest. "On Nostramo, there is no surname more familiar to me than Rohars."

"That's good."

Khalil smiled slightly, raised his hands, and the two sharp blades reflected the confused light of the flickering candle.He began to hop softly in place, his back relaxed, his posture relaxed, the blade looming at his wrist.

"Mr Carrier"

The priest clenched his fists slowly, and there was a rumbling mechanical sound in his arms.

"Speak, Father—you can speak longer, and take it as your last words." Khalil replied with a chuckle.

The priest didn't answer, but took a deep breath of the bloody air.

The man on the ground was still screaming, so he raised his foot and stomped hard on the soft throat, ending the man's pain.

The priest said, "You are indeed here for revenge."

"No, Father, it's not," Khalil responded softly. "I'm here for you."

The swipe was fleeting, the candle was extinguished, roars and laughter alternated, and one eyeball of the tattooed man rolled away, disappearing silently in the darkness.

　Newcomer and new book, I hope you like it.Two updates per day, 3k per chapter.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)