40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 70 69. The Eighth Legion (4, [-]k)

Joseph walked out of his home slowly.

As he stepped through the open door, he felt a sudden shiver.

He had no idea where the feeling came from, in fact he didn't even bother to catch the fleeting question.When the acid rain fell on his skin, the burning pain caused him to forget about those things.

He walked through the shanty town, and there were dying corpses on the side of the road staring at the night sky, coughing endlessly.Every time he walks this distance, Joseph feels oppressed.

That feeling is normal, Lew said, because no one wants to hear other people coughing, especially people with black lung disease.Once you see them coughing up black dust and blood, you will never forget them.

It's a good thing to be able to remember, but Joseph didn't want to make himself remember these things.

He looked up so he could not look at them.

Stretching his neck, he walked through the dark and smelly streets, and arrived at the other end of the shantytown, where Lie's home was.However, as he expected, many people have already arrived here before him.

Lie's house had no door; in fact, he lived under a wall with an outstretched edge, and that wall was his home.

Now, it is full of dense black characters.Skinny ghosts stood vaguely in the darkness, staring at them.

Seeing this scene, Joseph knew that he no longer needed to squeeze in to find Lie.

At this time, he is probably not there.The worker turned around and walked into an alley so narrow that he had to walk sideways.

The rough barbs on the metal sheet scraped against his coat, making a screeching sound. Joseph cursed secretly, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He just continued to walk forward.

A few minutes later, he found Lie in a fairly small open space.He was lying under a newly built shed. The plastic sheet he picked up was erected with wooden sticks. Below it was a raised hardwood board, on which Lie lay.

"Row." Joseph called out in a low voice. "Do you want to go out?"

"...tonight?"

Lie opened his eyes, sat up, and there were a few more bruises on his filthy face at some point.

Since he decided to mainly pursue the shadow of that ghost, getting injured has become a common occurrence.Sometimes it was a fall on unfamiliar terrain, and sometimes it was attacked by gangs-it was said to be an attack, but it was actually a kind of drive.

They treat the workers in the shantytowns as casually as they treat the machines, and when the machines in the factory break down, they will be slapped.In their eyes, Lie is such a machine.

"What happened tonight?" Joseph asked.He didn't quite understand what was so special about tonight, but Lie laughed.

He climbed out of the plastic sheet, lifted his bed board, and dragged out a dark red rag that was wet from the rain.He picked it up, unfolded it, and showed it to Joseph.

"did you see it?"

"See what?"

"Look at this sign," Lie said. "The biggest gang in West City, have you seen it?"

Following his guidance, Joseph finally found the logo.

It's unremarkable, not even half.But Joseph recognized it immediately—since he witnessed the flames in the ruins that day, he would come to find Lie every night, and go out with him, looking for traces of the ghost.

During these days, they saw too many things that they could never have imagined before.

Like this logo.

"Bloody skull?" Joseph asked in a low voice. "Where did you get it?"

"Picked up from their corpses." Lie laughed and replied. "I've been out to-night, Joseph."

"Have you been to their quarters?"

"No, I didn't. I found it on the side of the road, them"

Lie pursed his lips.

"I don't know how to explain it to you, Joseph, but I did see the ghost tonight. Not one, it wasn't one."

His eyes were sparkling, and his sentences were a little messy.

"There are many of them."
-
Trial.

It's not the first time Anrik has done this. He has tried many sinful people.

But, frankly, the sinners of Nostramo are the weakest of them all.

They have no organized army, no weapons capable of setting the earth in flames, they have almost nothing.

Because of this, Enrique couldn't understand.

They are the weakest, but they are the most terrifying.

"Eighth company commander." A voice sounded in the communication channel. "Aren't you going to let those civilians come over to watch the death of these scum?"

"Don't ask me, Targaryen. I am not your captain."

"You are the highest ranking person in Quintus."

"There are no more ranks now."

"The Primarch said he had no intention of removing your ranks."

said Targaryen.

"So, please, give me an exact answer and an order. Are we going to let the civilians living in the shanty town watch the death of these sinners?"

"."

Anrik Barbatos was silent for a while before giving his answer.

"No." He said lowly. "It doesn't make sense, they won't understand now."

"Allow me to ask again, I didn't catch what you were saying."

"I'm sure there's nothing wrong with my comm system - so, yes, no need to send them over."

Enrique raised his head and spoke almost in a sigh-like tone.

".The meaning of the trial is to let the sinners understand their sins and let the victims see justice come. But, do you think those sinners will repent? They won't, they won't change. And Nostramo There is no justice."

"Aren't we righteous?" asked the Targaryen of the First Company in a low voice.

"We're not," Enric said. "We cannot represent justice."

"...Then what are we, Captain Enric?"

"We are judges, that's all."

Enrique hung up the communication, he turned around, took off his helmet, and completely exposed his face to the foul and sour air of Nostramo's lower lair.

He gazed quietly down, he could see his brothers leading sinners to judgment, and he knew what would come next.But can this really change Nostramo?

As a result, a second question was born in his heart, as well as a deep worry.

Can we really make the Primarch's home planet better?We are only judges and executioners, we can only kill.
But killing can never really solve the problem.

Sigh—Anrik Barbatos put on his helmet again.

It's still a long night.

He leaped off the steeple and stepped into the darkness.
-
"How are they doing?"

asked Midnight Ghost, hissing.His expression was very excited, which was obvious, and his smile was full of pride and pride.

"How do you think they are doing?" Khalil asked with a chuckle. "I am not the Lord of the Eighth Legion, nor their Primarch."

"But I want to know your opinion."

The ghost said stubbornly, and even switched abruptly to High Gothic after this sentence, uttering a phrase.

".Partner."

He blinked, eyes full of anticipation. "How? What do you think of them?"

My point of view
What can I say, ghost?What can I say other than praise?They did in one night what I haven't been able to do in years.
"This is just the beginning, Conrad," Khalil said quietly.

"start?"

"Judgment is only the first step." Khalil shook his head. "If you want to get Nostramo out of what he is now, a trial alone will never be enough."

"Tonight, the Eighth Legion killed all the nobles in the five hive capitals of Nostramo, and gangs are about to become a term that will be destroyed by man. But what about those workers, Kangla De? What are you going to do with them?"

Midnight Ghost smiled, and almost couldn't wait to answer Khalil's question.

"Feed them and clothe them. Teach them to read and write. Make factories normal jobs. Renovate the environment. Make laws so they know that crimes are punishable. I've thought about that, Khalil, I've read the Fu Root's notes."

"So, what are you going to do?" Khalil asked quietly.

".Let them eat and clothe themselves?"

"Yes, this is your purpose, but how are you going to do it?"

Staring at the pair of eyes that originally wanted to be praised, Khalil spit out cold words in a certain room of the Nightfall indifferently.

He had never been so harsh on Conrad Coats before, uttered such pointed questions with such disregard for his feelings.

But he has to do it now.

There is no room for carelessness in this matter.

"What are you going to do, Conrad Coates?" he asked. "Feeding them and clothing them—how do you start? Are you going to drive through the streets honking and telling them the nobility is dead and they can all have a new life?"

"They won't understand, Conrad. They don't even know what a new life really means. And in their cognition, the people driving the car are all big shots from the last nest, so they will treat you as a The new nobility."

"...I'm not!" Midnight Ghost suddenly roared, his hands clenched into fists at some point.

"I know you're not, but do they know?"

".They'll know!"

"No, they won't. Because you are noble."

"I'm not!"

"You are not a nobleman of Nostramo, you are a nobleman in the human empire. You are the most distinguished group of people in this huge empire that spans the galaxy, and you are one of the emperor's sons."

"And to those workers, you are no different from a god. When you appear, how do you think they will think of you, a giant who is almost three meters tall?"

Lowering his head, Midnight Ghost whispered a word in Nostramo tremblingly: "I am not a god."

Khalil shook his head, not switching to Nostramo as before.

"Let them feed and clothe them and let them read and write. What capacity will you use to do this, Conrad? And what method will you use to do this?"

"The workers of Nostramo will not understand the Primarch, the Eighth Legion and what it stands for. They will only see you as a bigger noble, leading a bigger gang— That's all."

"...No, it's not like that, Khalil, it's not like that."

"Yes, Conrad. And"

Khalil chuckled in a cold voice.

"They'll go out of their way to join the gang," he said softly. "This is the nature of the Nostramo people, and you can't change it."

"I can," hissed Midnight Ghost, who had raised his head and was looking at Khalil with aggrieved disappointment.

The latter just looked at him calmly.

"Can you?" Khalil asked calmly, almost indifferently, suppressing all his emotions.

"I can!" the ghost yelled. "I can change theirs!"

"You can't, you're even talking to me in Nostramo. Go look in the mirror, Conrad, and see the grievance on your face now."

"Your legion has completed the order you issued, and your first reaction after boarding the Nightfall was to come to me. Why are you looking for me? Do you want my approval?"

"You actually asked me how they are doing. They are your legion, Conrad. They have nothing to do with me, so you don't need to ask me these things at all."

Khalil stared calmly, stretched out his hand, and wiped two teardrops on the face of a giant with its head bowed.

"...You are the master of the Eighth Legion."

he said in a low voice.

"Learn to think for yourself, learn to do everything the Conrad Coates way, you can't be a midnight ghost now, understand?"

"But."

Hiss.

"In High Gothic, remember what I said to you before I got on the boat?"

"."

silence.

A moment later, Conrad Koz replied in a low voice in High Gothic: "When you are on board, stop speaking Nostramo."

"So, who are you now?"

"Conrad Coates."

"You are still the master of the Eighth Legion." Khalil smiled slightly and sent the pale giant out of the room. "Go and communicate with your legion."

Standing at the door, Conrad Koz pursed his lips.

"What about you?" he asked in a low voice.

"I am not of your regiment."

"But you are"

"What am I?"

"."

"I don't have a job, Conrad," Khalil said quietly. "I shouldn't have a position either. Are you going to let an outsider into your regiment and become an officer? Don't do it, or you are insulting everyone."

"Behind those ranks are promotions bought with blood, a proof of their glory. You can't give me this kind of glory for no reason. I didn't do anything."

Silence, Conrad Koz was silent and didn't say a word, he didn't understand why things suddenly developed to this point.The cold touch in his right wrist remained steady, trying to calm his heartbeat, but to no avail.

".Then, what should I do?"

"Ask yourself, Lord of the Eighth Legion," Khalil said quietly.

He closes the door.

　First sneak attack a chapter.

　　Twenty thousand more today.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)