40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 480 Extra: Round Table Movie Viewing ()

[You will soon know who I am, but for now, Conrad Coates. Hold his hand. 】

【Who are you? Who is Conrad Coates? 】

【Do you want to save him? 】

【.I think. 】

[Then hold his hand. 】

The light curtain was dim, but the expressions of the noble imperial demigods beside the round table looked a little strange.

Take Sanguinius as an example. Angel Baal had some obvious confusion on his face, which was completely different from his usual smiling appearance. There was no doubt that he was thinking about something, but what exactly was he thinking about?

Let's ask Horus Luperkar. Would the Corsonia gangster know what his closest brother was thinking right now?

The answer is yes, of course he knows it, but he has no time to care about it.

"Is that the father's voice?" Horus responded. No, he didn't respond. He just stood up very quickly, and then sent his voice to the ears of everyone in the room.

Leman Russ sighed, lying on the table and waving to him lazily.

".Miss?"

Russ smiled maliciously, his too-sharp canine teeth gleaming.

He lowered his head to look at the videotape, swallowed back the words he originally planned to say, and changed his name to a more polite one.

"—The Narrator, sir, what it's doing is what matters. We should let it go on."

[What do you think, the great Khan who has not yet had time to become the only eagle? 】

He is not the first person to have a change in his expression. Everyone here is a Primarch. Even if someone has character flaws, their intelligence level is still far beyond that of ordinary people. Of course they heard the implication of the tape, but was this really possible?

"What preparations?" Chagatai asked.

"It's better that I don't say anything, dear little brother. Your question is obviously just to cause me to be troubled by this bald man for a week."

【Accept what? 】

The light curtain flashed, a huge thunder sounded throughout the room in an instant, and white light illuminated everyone's faces. Corvus Corax turned his head expressionlessly and looked at the only weak-light person among them, only to find that the man's dark eyes were staring unreservedly at the light screen.

He squinted his eyes, leaned forward slightly, and his sitting posture suddenly seemed quite threatening.

【ha! 】

Alpharius shrugged and patted the top of his head. He was also smiling, but not very obviously. Rogal Dorn glanced at them calmly, and then stood up as well.

[I still owe him a knife. 】

He wanted to say something, but Horus's voice overwhelmed everything at the moment.

The light screen immediately vibrated, and as if it couldn't wait, it quickly projected the next scene. Conrad Coates squatted on his chair, looking at the scene expressionlessly, his hands still bleeding.

Jaghatai leaned back in his chair and stopped talking.

Judging from the original body's resilience, he should have recovered long ago.

[My son—you call him Ghost, I call him Conrad Curze. 】

[Or, let us put it in other words. This is the earth, the junction of the Eurasian continent at some time BC. The land movement has not yet caused this place to disappear. Those people are preparing dinner. They have just finished a long day's work. 】

Almost no one paid attention to him, only Alpharius snickered and gestured a number at him. Their exchange was not taken seriously by anyone. Most of them stared at the light screen closely, wondering what would happen next.

Horus sat back in his chair and gave up thinking. He didn't want to follow those words and imagine what was revealed behind them, even for him, it seemed a bit beyond cognition.

[Oh, don’t get me wrong, just a little bit. This kind of thing is rare even for me, let alone this time I was there in person. Ha, in short, the next step is the highlight. I respectfully advise you that you'd better be prepared. 】

"Yes, that is my father's voice," said the Invite. "But I don't think this is what we need to be most concerned about right now, this-"

[No, Khalil Lohars, nameless ghost, this is not death. 】

[Very well, it seems that all the great, extraordinary, noble, invincible and outstanding Primarchs have no objections]

Leman Russ inevitably scratched the side of his face with his hand and mumbled, "How many times have you shouted this today, brother?"

【.He is one of my visions for the future of mankind. 】

The picture zoomed in, quickly and directly, and it was fixed on that pale face.

[Becoming Khalil Lohars. 】

[No, just call me sir, although it doesn't matter at all. It’s really fun to deal with you guys. Look at you guys. I can’t wait to see what your reactions will be when you see the back.]

"Yes, yes, that's my father's voice, Horus. Sometimes I want to give you a nickname, you know?"

[Are you Khalil Lohars? No, you're not. Khalil Lohars has been dead for a long time. At the last moment of his life, he knocked on the door of hell, and you, the ghost, came from behind the door. 】

"You seem to be looking forward to this?" Perturabo asked darkly and coldly.

[I want to thank you, Ghost, for protecting him and saving him from a rough and astray path. But I didn’t save you because of his wishes. So, are you going to accept it? 】

"Father?!"

The light curtain flickered, and it seemed to be laughing, one after another, continuously. After a few seconds, the rapid flashing slowly stopped.

[Hey, how can you assume my gender? 】

The Corsonia people shouted these words and stood up again in shock. They looked at the man wearing a laurel wreath and golden armor who appeared on the light screen with a look of confusion on his face.

"What nickname?" Alpharius suddenly asked.

【I accept. 】

The light curtain went out and no more images appeared. There was no text, and the video tape suddenly became silent, making one wonder if there was something wrong with it.

The originals had no time to care about why this chattering so-called story telling machine became silent at this moment. They all had their own thoughts going on in their minds. However, there were always some people who would become those exceptions.

Like Conrad Coates.

After waiting for a full ten minutes, he rushed up to the round table in three steps and two steps at a time, kicked up the video tape, and then rushed down the long table without losing any momentum. He pressed it against the stone wall viciously and pressed his sharp nails on the dark surface of the video tape. The Nostramo looked back at the screen of light, then moved his profile closer to the video tape and whispered menacingly.

"Where's the back?" he asked. "You'd better tell the truth, you endless hateful machine, otherwise I will definitely tear you apart."

【Tear it down. 】

"I'm not kidding you!" Curze growled. "Ten minutes have passed! Tell me what happened next! I want to know whether this idiot is dead or alive, and whether their ridiculous ideals have drowned them!"

[Don’t worry, radio programs need time to insert advertisements, not to mention that what you are watching is a story from a parallel universe]

Magnus suddenly raised his arms and shouted, raising his fists excitedly.

"You damn thing!" Curze ignored his brother. He laughed in anger, raised his right hand high, and was about to throw the videotape to the ground.

At the critical moment, a slender left hand as white as jade stopped him.

Fulgrim took his wrist sternly and asked, "What do you want, Konrad?"

"I'm going to smash this crap!"

"I don't think you can do this." Ferrus Manus said calmly, still sitting in his seat.

His words attracted a lot of attention, and Curze was one of them. The Nostramo turned his head suddenly like a wild beast and stared at him coldly, his eyes full of threats.

Ferus narrowed his eyes and began to beat his left arm rhythmically with his right hand. The sound of metal collision could be heard endlessly. However, this confrontation did not last long. Fulgrim stretched out his right hand and pulled Curze's head back without any refusal.

He got a feral growl.

"What? Are you going to bite me, Konrad?" Fulgrim asked nonchalantly, then snatched the videotape from Curze's hand and even raised it to him very calmly.

"You can give it a try," he said. "I promise you I will bite you back. This is how I treated machines that didn't listen to me when I was a worker."

"Then do you know how I treat those criminals who don't listen to me?" Cozz asked with a sneer, taking out his right hand and hiding both hands in the long sleeves of the wide black robe.

"I'm not interested in knowing," Fulgrim said.

He turned around, took the video tape and walked back to the round table. Konrad Koz hunched his back, his hands had already reached out of his long sleeves, and his sharp and somewhat abrupt nails sparkled in the air.

He moved his fingers and followed Fulgrim silently. The Chemos man reached out his hand nonchalantly and threw the videotape back to the center of the round table. As for Coz.

He quietly returned to his seat.

Ruth grinned at him.

"Shut up, you stinking wolf," the Nostramo said without looking up.

"You too, shut up, you little idiot who is trying your best to pretend not to care."

Ruth burst out laughing. There was no trace of anger on that young and wild face, but it was full of joy. His words made Curze raise his head, and began to peer gloomily at Russ from behind the cage made of broken hair.

"What?" The Fenrisian chuckled, spread his hands, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Do you think there's anything wrong with what I said?"

"I'm going to slit your throat and let you see your windpipe."

"And before that happens I will break every one of your fingers and stick them in your mouth."

"I will let you gradually suffocate in your own blood and beg me for relief, but I will not lend a helping hand to you, wolf." Conrad Coze put away his hands coldly, slowly The ground shook his head. "I'll show you what pain is."

"Anyone can talk harshly, little brother." Russ laughed again, and these were the last words he said. At Sanguinius's disapproving look, the Fenrisian wisely kept his mouth shut.

The light curtain flickered just right.

[The debate between you is quite interesting. 】

"Please continue playing, Mr. Narrator," Roger Dorn said. "We all have our own things to do today, and we can't completely waste our time watching a movie like this."

【how? Don't you think this story is worth wasting a whole day on? 】

"I don't have time to waste on anything," Dawn replied calmly. "I need to continue to learn military theoretical knowledge. My teacher Olanez is a grumpy middle-aged man. He will not like me being late."

[I suggest you beat him up. 】

"."

Donne was silent. Even he didn't know how to answer this sentence. And if anyone asked, Perturabo would say that he enjoyed Rogal Dorn's speechless silence.

However, he is more concerned about another thing now - this so-called narrative machine has been communicating with them since the light curtain lit up, regardless of how much disrespect there is and how much obvious ridicule it contains.

One thing is very worthy of affirmation.

This narrative machine is self-aware.

None of its actions can be explained clearly by the so-called programming. Every reaction and every word it says is filled with an understatement of cynicism. Perturabo hated this attitude, but he wanted to know what this so-called narrative machine was.

So he asked bluntly.

"What on earth are you?" asked the Olympian.

He stood up slowly and drew the ceremonial sword from his waist. It was gleaming and sharp - yes, it was indeed a ceremonial sword, at least to Perturabo.

He raised his sword and pointed it at the black videotape.

"Explain, or I will destroy you."

[I have no interest in talking to you, Perturabo. As your brother Roger Dorn said, his time is valuable. In fact, everyone’s time is very precious, and I don’t want to waste your common time]

"So, you want to continue playing?" Ruth asked with a smile. "I mean, what about the second half of the story? The narrative machine? Did the man named Khalil come back to life, and what did our father do to him?"

The light curtain flashed, and the screen lit up again, and it was fixed on a face shining in the darkness, a pale face covered with blood.

Khalil Lohars' face.

But the problem is not here, the problem is the giant opposite him, a giant with bruises all over his body, steel braids hanging down the back of his head, and a face twisted like a ghost.

"What's going on?" the Primarch from Nuceria asked in confusion.

The answer he got was a roar from Conrad Coates.

(End of this chapter)