In the 41st millennium, darkness rages across the galaxy! The Imperium of Man has lost half of its territories. Millions of planets have fallen victim to the invasion of Chaos! Famine, crime, and heretical cults spread like wildfire… On the planet of Urth, located in the Imperium's dark zone, extreme suffering is taking place. Fortunately, the savior, Eden, has arrived! He awakens to the essence of the Warp and leads his people to prosperity! Starting from a small, broken territory: Farming, building armies, managing internal affairs, unifying the planet, creating Space Marines, forming a fleet, embarking on a grand expedition... When the Lord Regent leads the Imperial fleet to reclaim lost lands, he gazes upon the flourishing star systems and the sky-darkening armada, then looks back at his own ragged ships and is left dumbfounded... Who is the true Imperium? [Raw: 官场职场 > 战锤:从行星总督开始]
Arila hoped, desperately, that her name would appear on the list.
If it did, she would be able to go to the Sacred Square, to see the Emperor's statue and the benevolent Governor with her own eyes!
There were ten spots available on the third production line.
One by one, the overseer read off the names.
Each worker whose name was called wept with joy, kneeling in gratitude to the Emperor and the Governor for this great honor.
Arila watched the overseer closely, praying her name would be called.
But as the list came to an end, she still hadn't heard her name.
Her heart felt as if it had fallen into an endless abyss.
How could this be? She had worked so hard!
She didn't understand why she wasn't chosen as one of the active workers.
"Over… Overseer, I…"
Arila couldn't hold back any longer and timidly raised her hand, wanting to ask why.
Crack!
In the next instant, the overseer's whip cracked loudly against the ground, sending a sharp sound through the air.
"Those on the list, follow me to meet the Emissary. The rest of you, get back to the line and keep working. No complaints!
If I catch anyone slacking off, I'll make sure you regret it!"
The overseer glared menacingly at Arila, his eyes warning her.
If it hadn't been for the Emissary's visit today, and the factory director's specific instructions to be more lenient, the overseer's whip would have already lashed across Arila's back.
Seeing the overseer's warning, Arila swallowed her words and dared not speak again.
She could only watch the ten workers with envy as they followed the overseer to meet the Emissary.
If they passed the inspection, they would get the chance to go to the Sacred Square.
But for Arila, that chance was gone.
Choking back her frustration, she wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes and returned to the production line.
Suddenly, the heat on the assembly line seemed unbearable, and the fumes seeping through her broken mask stung her nose terribly.
It was as if no one ever cared about her.
Even though she had worked so hard, no one ever noticed.
No matter how much she felt wronged, she still had to keep working.
In her weakened condition, she wondered if one day she might end up like her parents, dying at her station.
Maybe only when she collapsed and died on the assembly line would anyone finally notice her.
Perhaps they'd even pity her, saying, "Arila was such a diligent worker. This workshop has lost one of its best."
Her mind wandered, imagining her own death, filling her with sorrow.
But the noisy machinery quickly snapped her back to reality—she was still on the clock!
She hurriedly resumed her work, murmuring to herself for encouragement:
"Arila, you're the best worker here. You can do this!"
"Arila!"
Hmm, was someone calling her?
Arila was confused. It had been so long since anyone had called her name since her parents had passed.
She thought she might have been imagining it.
"Arila!"
This time, she was certain someone was calling her, and she quickly turned around.
It was the overseer, glaring at her with a stern expression!
She panicked:
"Overseer, I've been working hard. Please, don't punish me!"
Seeing no response from the overseer, she quickly continued:
"Is it about my mask?
By the Emperor, I accidentally broke it. I swear I won't ask for a replacement, and it won't affect the workshop!"
The overseer, breathing heavily, said nothing, almost scaring Arila out of her wits.
Then, to her shock, the overseer's face broke into a broad smile.
"A-A-Arila, no need to worry. I'm here with some important news for you…"
The overseer's tone was unnaturally polite, as if afraid of offending her.
He had nearly run himself breathless to get here.
"You need me… for something important?"
Arila couldn't believe her ears. The overseer was being nice to her?
Normally, he would just call her "Hey, you!" or worse, "that one over there!" and strike her with his whip without a second thought.
"Yes, Arila. Please, follow me quickly. The Emissary wants to see you specifically…"
What?
Arila's mind went blank. Though she wasn't the brightest, she knew this was something good.
"Come quickly now… And the rest of you, get back to work. Anyone slacking will answer to me!"
The overseer, catching his breath, led Arila away, but not before shouting at the other workers as a matter of habit.
Realizing how that might look, he quickly turned back to Arila, speaking softly:
"Apologies, Arila, I didn't mean to raise my voice and bother your ears. Please forgive my past offenses…"
The overseer looked as though he might cry, terrified of offending Arila, who had been personally summoned by the Emissary.
"No… no problem…"
Arila, still in a daze, followed the overseer toward the reception area, where the Emissary and the factory director were waiting.
In the factory's reception hall, the director was drenched in sweat as he anxiously faced the two Emissaries, both dressed in black uniforms, representing the Governor himself.
These Emissaries had the power to execute him on the spot!
Two days ago, the King's Court had issued a notice, instructing each region to submit a list of active workers, explicitly warning against any falsification or negligence.
If the Governor's Emissaries found any issues, the offenders would face severe punishment, and in serious cases, execution on the spot!
The message from the King's Court had been clear.
No sane person would dare tamper with this list.
The factory director had worked tirelessly, reviewing every name submitted by the overseers, carefully examining the workers' faith and family backgrounds before finalizing the list.
To ensure fairness, he had even excluded his own brother-in-law.
Yet, there was still a problem.
The woman Arila, whom the Governor had taken a personal interest in, was not on the list!
How could this happen?
In fact, Arila's name had been added by Eden on a whim.
The other night, Carter had promised Arila he would pass on her feelings to the Governor.
And true to his word, he had mentioned Arila to Eden.
Eden, finding the story amusing, had noted her name.
Later, when preparing the list, he had casually added it.
What he hadn't expected was the amount of attention it would draw.
Upon seeing that Arila had been specifically marked by the Governor, Bayev immediately dispatched Deville and Popov to ensure nothing went wrong.
That's how the current situation came to be.
The factory director was on the verge of collapse, convinced that his life—and his family—was over.
"There's no need to be afraid…"
Deville looked at the trembling director and tried to reassure him.
Worried that his usual cold expression might be too harsh, he gave the director the smile he had just learned from Popov.
"Mercy, Emissary! By the Emperor's name, I swear the list was thoroughly reviewed. There's no mistake.
I had no idea Arila was someone the Governor was looking for!"
With a thud, the factory director dropped to his knees.
The Emissary's sinister smile made him tremble, certain he was about to be executed.
"You wretch!"
Deville was momentarily taken aback. This time, he was genuinely angry, his hand instinctively moving toward his laser pistol.
"Whoa, whoa, Deville, take it easy. Remember to be friendly. We're here to help the workers.
Didn't the Governor say we should engage with the people?"
Popov patted Deville on the shoulder, urging him to stay calm.
Deville glared at Popov, feeling even more insulted and humiliated.
That coward, giving him orders?
(End of Chapter)
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