40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 496 14. Fire Rain
Tujia shook his head vigorously and slowly put down the gun in his hand. He has some tinnitus in his ears, which is what happens when shooting in places like tunnels or small rooms. If it's more serious, he might even lose his hearing.

Although the Catahan MK3 is not a noisy gun, it is not a laser gun that only buzzes. It is a live ammunition firearm that has had the right to make noise since its invention and evolution.

Tujia kept thinking about these things and put the gun back in his coat pocket.

Yes, he changed his coat back - the Moran family has been completely eliminated, and the police officers sensed something else from the death of the detective and the indifference of the superiors.
Overall, Tujia has won back the right to wear his coat.

Sometimes, old clothes are much more comfortable to wear than new clothes.

He put his hand into his pocket, took out a handful of candies, leaned against the cold wall of the tunnel and began to select by the light of the emergency lights.

It took him half a minute to select one of those gray cheap candies. However, they all looked the same. They were all tightly wrapped in gray candy wrappers. Even if the candy wrappers were removed, they would not Maybe you can tell something from that uniform pale white color
To some extent, there is probably no difference between eating candy and killing people.

Both of these things require practice.

Tujia looked down at the ground. Under the pale white light of the emergency lights, two bright red blood stains were spreading in front of him. The rough cement floor of the underground tunnel had been completely dyed red.

He stepped forward and walked forward. His boots collided with the concrete floor. Through the collision of the tunnel, the sound turned into a deep echo and began to echo in the tunnel.

'Tujia' gritted his teeth and said, "I'm just a truck driver, why do you want to kill me?"

Tujia didn't say anything, he just rolled the candy under his tongue and pressed it gently.

The gunshot wound he suffered some time ago has been completely healed. He has no particularly good medical conditions and has not undergone adjustment surgery. His self-healing ability is still only at the level of an ordinary person. But now, his injuries have fully recovered.

Tujia turned around and started walking towards the exit of the tunnel.

Elvis, with excitement on his face, ordered on the spot for his men waiting in the crowd to take over Billy's forces. The deputy detective in District 1 had no reaction at all. He even shook Elvis's hand and praised him for his wonderful fight.
Tujia only felt ridiculous about this, because he could clearly see the innocent souls in Elvis's shadow. Without exception, they were all victims killed by Elvis himself. This was also seen from the side. It reveals a certain essence of this middle-aged man
Tujia has met many gang leaders, and there is indeed no shortage of cold-blooded murderers among them, but after all, they are only a minority. Most other people are still just in it for money - if not for this, why would they willingly embark on this terrible road that risks their lives anytime and anywhere?

Not only that, he...
The investigator stopped his thoughts with a headache and sighed, still not understanding what he was involved in.

Tujia took another breath of cold air and quickly spit it out. He put down the gun, reached for a handful of sticky hair, and began to walk back with the injured man in his arms.

The man looked at him in fear, his body trembling, but he did not notice that the eyes hidden under the brim of the hat were slowly changing. The original green color had disappeared without a trace, and was replaced by a light blue color filled with hatred. .

"Listen, I have a lot of savings. I work for Elvis, okay? I resell placebos for him, so I have a lot of money. If you don't believe it, you can stop my bleeding first, and then Take me back to my house."

The man was stunned. The gunfire flashed in the next second, and with a loud noise, he fell on his back, and his entire face was completely smashed.

He seemed to have fallen into a strange state of trance, his green eyes falling somewhere in the darkness without focus, but the hand holding the gun remained motionless, without wavering at all.

"What on earth do you want to do...?" the owner of that face asked desperately.

A muffled sound came from in front of him, accompanied by a slight rubbing sound. The incandescent lights began to flicker, and there seemed to be some problem with the voltage in the tunnel. Tujia's face was looming in the faint light. He slowly followed up with the crawling man, then raised his foot and stepped on the knee of his right leg that was pierced by him.

What could be better than being able to murder your enemy reasonably and legally?
Tujia watched their commotion with cold eyes and slowly left the street. As if guided, he left the second district through several winding alleys and headed for the third district without any guidance.

This is rare. Can an ordinary gang leader in a hive city have such ability to use a factory as his lair?
Tujia frowned slightly and stared at the looming fire in the factory for a while. He did not choose to enter immediately, but took out a handful of candies again and picked one for himself.

The feud between them ended.

Tujia closed his eyes and bit into the candy. He stood up unhappily, the whispers in his ears quickly fading away, and the coldness hit him again, penetrating into his flesh and blood, opening an invisible door.
After a few seconds, it closed, and the coldness turned into a strange warmth that flowed through his body.

A few days ago, Tujea met Zell again in the chapel. He revealed some things, such as the name of the war group and what they were doing.

Horst didn't explain much to him, but just showed him a emblem from the Inquisition, and then told him that the Vengeancers had actually existed for thousands of years and were a rather secretive organization.
To be honest, this explanation is worse than no explanation at all.

He heard a scream very clearly.

At the same time, he raised the gun in his hand again.

The unique sour taste caused by the chemical reaction continued to spread on the taste buds of his tongue. He opened his mouth and took in a breath of cold air, and the sour taste turned into a strange feeling with a chill.
He took out the gun from his pocket, squatted down, and pointed the dark barrel at a face dripping with sweat and full of fear.

As for which gang it was, a face flashed before Tujia's eyes. It was a middle-aged man with a mustache and his face was covered in blood.

Tujia originally thought that these souls needed to stay with the murderer all the time, but now it seems that this is not the case. Or is it just because of the special nature of his 'profession' that they have the power to leave?
He guessed these things, gradually leaving the lively streets of District 3 and the crowds marching to celebrate the Holy Spirit Month, and arrived outside a semi-abandoned factory. If there is no problem with the guidance of the dead souls, then this is Elvis's lair.

Tujia never expected that his investigation mission would be related to Astarte. What was even more bizarre was that they actually took the initiative to help him solve the consequences of this matter. What is this? How could the Astartes be so idle?
With this idea in mind, some speculations began to spread infinitely along the chaotic thoughts, and many details were connected by him. Such as the language used by both Horst and Zell, or the bleeding statue of a strange god in the church.
However, details are just details after all, and it is impossible for him to deduce the truth based on these things. What's worse is that when Tujia came to his senses, he found that he had naturally begun to act as an 'avenger' rather than an investigator.

There are many mysteries, but Tujia can't solve any of them. This is not a very good work experience for an investigator. What's more, the Avengers are not the only ones on Litatra, there is also a small group of the Astartes Chapter active.

At the same time, the murmurs of the dead in his ears were slowly changing, from whispers to roars filled with hatred.

He soon left the tunnel and returned to the surface of Area 2.

He screamed and chattered all the way, promising many things that he thought would impress Tujaa. This futile struggle continued until Tujea threw him into the midst of three corpses, all of whom were his companions and who came from the same gang.

He had killed many people tonight. According to Horst's suggestion, he killed all the people sent by Elvis within three hours of nightfall.

"It's him" a soul whispered softly in his ear.

"-Shh." Tujia shook his head at him, interrupting his struggle for life with a soft shush.

He completely forgot about his original job, which he was not very satisfied with, and began to perform his duties as an avenger with great concentration. Sometimes it’s just simple revenge, sometimes you need to meet some people and do something after revenge.
Now, Tujia can only console himself with the saying 'at least it's better than paperwork'.

The Holy Spirit Month has just begun, and the quiet nights in the past are now noisy. Some relatively wide areas on the streets were covered with slogans and symbols, fluttering in the night breeze.

The duel venue was still bustling with people who hated each other eagerly waiting for their turn. Unless something unexpected happens, this kind of thing will continue from the beginning to the end of the Holy Spirit Month.

I'm afraid Elvis is different, and because of this, he deserves some special treatment.

The gang leader named Elvis was active in that area. He won the duel during the day. After all, the young Billy was inexperienced. He missed the move at the last moment and fell into a trap. He was killed. Stabbed through the throat.

They entered the underground from the ground in the second area at midnight, fully armed, and were eventually shot by Tujia who was following them in this tunnel.

Tujia didn't say anything, just pulled the hammer.

"I have a safe hidden under the bed. There's six thousand dollars in cash. You can take it all. If that's not enough, I have more—"

Tujia put his right hand into his coat pocket and grasped his gun. Night enveloped the earth, but the world in front of him was not completely dark. Many illusory souls were silently pointing the way for him.

He no longer had to worry about ammunition, and the people of District 2 welcomed him as someone with free access to the church. Some time ago, he was an unpopular investigator, but now he seems to have become a local native of Litatra and has lived here for at least thirty years.
However, he did not have this kind of fighting ability before.

No matter how abundant the ammunition was, twenty-six gangsters scattered throughout the hive were found in batches within three hours and killed without any effort. He would never have dared to think about such a thing before.

But now, he can see a group of dead souls. They pointed Tujia's way with pinpoint accuracy and even provided him with special vision that allowed him to see through walls.

This thing is like a noble private assassin wearing high-tech equipment who is hunting down some people in the hive who have no idea of ​​his existence. In other words, it is effortless.

So fucking ridiculous. Tujia thought. It seemed like I suddenly became a natural psyker who needed to report to the local psyker bureau. Or maybe I really was? If I register, maybe I can even go to Terra.

He was amused by his own thoughts. Although this was indeed an honor, he also knew very well that this kind of power probably had nothing to do with psychic abilities.

So, the question is, what kind of power is this? The person who is connected to it is either an Astartes or a member of the Inquisition hidden within the Ecclesiarchy. Oh, and now maybe there is another one, that is, he is a low-level investigator of the Ministry of Justice.
Tujia reluctantly bit into the candy and walked into the abandoned factory yard with a gun. The place is very desolate, the telephone poles have all been knocked down, the moss-covered concrete floor is full of cracks, and there is not a single soul around.

The residents of District 3 probably know who this factory belongs to. Even in the Holy Spirit Month, no celebration team dared to pass by here.

The main body of the factory glowed with a little firelight in the darkness, looking like the head of a huge beast. Tujia approached its gate quietly, with a calm pace.

In the past, even if he really decided to raid a gang lair alone, he would have to spend a long time to find out whether there were any of their sentries around.

But there was no need for it now. In the phantom arms raised one after another and the whispering words, he had completely grasped all the information near the factory.

He could even clearly know how many people were inside - twenty-four, one not too many and one not too few.

This is all that's left of Elvis' gang, and they're having a celebration in their lair. Vague noises came from the broken windows and closed doors. Tujia raised his left hand and hammered the door hard.

Along with a dull sound, the carnival sounds inside immediately stopped. Tujia did not move out of the way, but calmly raised his gun.

That kind of power was roaring inside his body. They had turned from the original warm current into a manic boiling molten iron, colliding wantonly in the blood vessels and flowing into his heart and brain.

The world in front of him changed. The walls and the door disappeared. A humanoid silhouette outlined by light white lines was holding a gun and slowly walked towards the door.
After a while, with the sound of hinge movement, the door was opened. The man who opened the door came out with a displeased face and smell of alcohol, and then a gun was pressed against his forehead.

Tujia pulled the trigger expressionlessly. He didn't want to admit that he liked his job as an avenger more than that of an investigator, but his behavior had left him with no room for argument.

He just prefers to seek revenge and complain. He just wanted to see those damned people die one by one. He had endured it for too long. What's more, he didn't need to violate any rules to do so.

The dead were roaring in his ears. This was not a personal grudge, nor was it for money or status. It was just pure revenge - the revenge of the dead. They borrowed his body and his gun to shoot hateful bullets at those who committed the most heinous crimes.
Tujia didn't notice, he was smiling.

But his enemies noticed.

Twelve of the twenty-four people were killed on the spot by Catahan MK3 bullets in the first round of shooting. Tujia's bullets seemed to be able to find the enemy on their own.

The remaining people were immediately forced out of the carnival state by cold sweat. Under Elvis's roaring orders, they raised their guns and started to fight back.

Bullets were flying, and shotguns and large-caliber automatic guns were hitting the concrete pillars and wild decorations in the factory everywhere. The special workers who had been invited back from the nearby brothels screamed and stayed in their original place. land.

Regardless of whether they were men or women, they were very sensible and did not run around. They just prayed secretly, hoping that this gang war would end quickly - their prayers soon came true, and the firefight only lasted a short time. In less than three minutes, all the remaining people were dead.

Torches were hung on the walls inside the factory, and the light they emitted illuminated the twisted faces one after another, and the corpses strewn on the ground.

Tujia held the gun and walked out of a heavy concrete pillar in a hurry while changing bullets. He heard running sounds, but he didn't have to look up to see. A hateful and slightly familiar voice was whispering in his ear.

It was young Billy's voice.

"The second pillar on the left, he wants to run. Kill him!"

Tujia slowly raised his head, and with a flick of his wrist, the magazine rotated back into the gun body. He raised the gun, cocked the hammer, and aimed at the fleeing Elvis, but did not fire immediately.

I have no grudges against you. This raid, this inexplicable massacre and me killing you have nothing to do with justice, nor is it because I can’t see people like you existing in the world.

There are millions of hives in the empire, and there are countless people like you in each hive. You have become a natural law and a part of the order.

Tujia closed his eyes, and when he opened them again half a second later, the green color had disappeared. Billy Payson's light chestnut boiled and burned, and he roared, his voice echoing through the factory.

"Elvis!"

The running man suddenly stopped and turned his head in disbelief. In the dancing firelight, those blood-stained eyes came into his eyes.

But how is this possible?

"I'll kill you! I've already killed you!" Elvis suddenly roared in response.

He showed great courage, but his forehead was already full of cold sweat, and he even sped up his running speed. He didn't believe that such a thing could happen. Billy Payson was dead, just like he stabbed his parents to death with a knife and took away all the money from their family.
He stabbed Billy through the throat with another knife and watched him lose his life.

How could he come back? His body had been burned to ashes.

Billy didn't answer him. Maybe he wanted to, but Tujia didn't answer. There were other people present, and he didn't want Billy to reveal too much.

So the crazy resentful soul full of hatred really didn't say those words, but just started running wildly. He could run much faster than Elvis, or any normal human being.

He quickly caught up with Elvis, tackled him to the ground, and began beating the fearful face with his fists and the butt of his gun.

Blood spattered out, and Elvis roared and began to struggle and ask questions: "I obviously killed you! How could you come back again?!"

Billy still didn't answer. He just pointed the gun at Elvis. He should have pulled the trigger, but he had already wasted too much time.

As if cold water was poured over his head, Tujia once again gained control of his body, but Billy Payson's soul was no longer in his sight.

This is the price you have to pay if you want to take revenge with your own hands.
"Wait, you're not him!" Elvis suddenly shouted.

Under the wide-brimmed hat, with the help of the dancing firelight, he saw a pair of green eyes that seemed to be glowing. The fear faded slightly, and Elvis mustered up the strength to push Tujia away from him with the help of the augmentation implant in his right hand.

He stumbled to his feet, pointed at Tujia and roared: "You pretentious guy! Billy Payson is dead!"

"Yes, he died just now." Tujia pressed his hat and slowly stood up from the ground.

He glanced at Elvis, and the resentful dead souls were gathering around him. They said nothing, but dark fire burned in their eyes.

If they could have touched Elvis, the man would have been completely shattered. However, they do not have this ability. There is a clear distinction between life and death. They need the help of some people to reach their enemies.

Tujia didn't want to do that now, so they pointed at Elvis's right cuff, as if there was something hidden inside.

Tujia narrowed his eyes.

"Who sent you?"

Elvis asked warily, backing away. He seemed to have misinterpreted Tujia's decision to keep him as something else, and began to name many other names.

They all sounded like gang leaders like him, and he thought Tujia was the killer they hired. However, no matter how many names he named, the 'killer' always remained silent, without saying a word, with a face on his face. Expressive.

But he didn't raise his gun either.

It dawned on Elvis—at least that's what he thought.

"I understand, the person who sent you here didn't pay high enough, right?" he said quickly. "How about I pay three times as much? No matter how much he pays, I will pay three times!"

"In the name of the God Emperor, you and I have no grievances, we are just trying to make a living! I have a house in the city, and my personal money box is in it, in the rich area! Think about it, sir! I am in the rich area. There’s a house in the human area!”

He slowly raised his hands as he spoke. The wrinkled suit was stained with blood and dust, making him look extremely embarrassed. Tujia didn't care about these things. He just stared at Elvis's right hand without saying a word.

"We can cooperate—" Elvis said, his expression quickly becoming ferocious.

He quickly threw down his right hand, and a pocket-sized pistol suddenly appeared from the cuff and was held in his hand. This series of movements was not unpleasant. He had practiced it at least tens of thousands of times before he could achieve such speed. Even his finger was on the trigger in an instant.

Tujia, however, was faster than him.

With a gunshot, Elvis fell on his back, and the Catahan MK3 turned his head into a puddle of rotten flesh.

Tujia silently took back the gun and shook his head. The door rose again, and countless sharp knives penetrated him again
At the same time, there was a sound of running behind him. The people who had been invited to have fun had already taken advantage of this time to escape. They were obviously not fools.

Tujia sighed, said those words silently in his heart, and the door closed naturally. Immediately afterwards, he found a stone and sat on it. After a while, Horst's voice came from the darkness.

"Well done." He praised. "Besides, you knew I was coming?"

"I don't know, but they know," Tujia said without looking up.

The priest chuckled and stepped out of the darkness. With the sound of footsteps, Tujia finally raised his head and glanced at him. He noticed that the black robe worn by the priest was very wide at the sleeves. No need to guess, he also knew that the two knives were probably inside it now.
But in what way? Does it fit snugly around the wrist, or stay in the sleeve?

His speculation was naturally interrupted by Horst's next words.

"You are really talented, you know?" the pastor said very seriously.

"What talent? Psychic talent?" Tujia asked. "Do you think I have psychic gifts? If so, can I go to Terra?"

The priest was amused by his words. He shook his head and said: "No, I mean your talent in our profession. You seem to be born for this profession, Tujia. Look at yourself, and It’s in vain that the dead people cooperated perfectly.”

"Is this difficult?"

"It's certainly not difficult, but the real difficulty is that you start to learn to adapt to it."

The pastor paused for a few seconds and looked at him meaningfully. Tujia's heart tightened when he looked at him, and he shook his head unwilling to admit it. He wanted to refute, but suddenly there was a sharp pain like needle pricks in his mind.

He instinctively raised his head and looked at the sky. The ceiling of the factory has been completely corroded, leaving only steel bars dividing the sky into irregular large and small pieces.

The night in Litatra should have been very peaceful, but now it was lit up by dots of firelight. Tujia covered his forehead and stood up in pain. He wanted to ask Horst what happened, but found that the latter's expression was even more distorted than his.

He didn't understand why at first, until five seconds later, the sky suddenly became as bright as day, and countless souls suddenly filled the sky.
They roared a name in unison.

"Erebus!"

Tujia fell unconscious.

(End of this chapter)