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The Forge Lord.

(This novel is friendly for those who are newly introduced to the world of Warhammer 40,000 or who wish to immerse themselves in it but don't know where to start.) Gino, a young boy from modern-day Earth, is mortally wounded by gunfire after trying to prevent a robbery. However, just as he believes it is the end for him, he opens his eyes to find himself in the universe of Warhammer 40,000. Armed with a system called [The Forge System], which allows him to acquire technology, equipment, ships, platforms, stations, and shipyards from the zenith of the Imperium of Mankind, in exchange for just 30% of his raw materials, Gino will carve a path from the very bottom to become the [Forge Lord]. Discover the adventures and misadventures that await Gino in a ruthless galaxy that shows no mercy. ------------------ (Disclaimer and notice: This novel is not a wish-fulfilment. Please also understand that it will be slow-paced, as I want to explore the Warhammer world in depth through Gino's eyes. It will contain a harem.) Discord: https://discord.gg/AXEy4x45 ----------------- This work is also published in Royalroad and Scribblehub.

SrDevoxero · Livres et littérature
Pas assez d’évaluations
25 Chs

Chapter XIX: Reality check

At the same time that Gino was on level 03 of Vandalor, reveling and boasting among his ships and rewards, chaos reigned on level 61, creating a heavy atmosphere.

In the early hours of the day, it was the merchant Khalor Judimer, owner of 'Capricorn's Warehouse'—the very place where Gino had stolen the materials—who raised his voice in grotesque outrage while witnessing the emptiness of the material stacks, alerting both passersby and guards alike as he glared with increasing fury at the missing supplies.

"WHO THE BLOODY THRONE DARES TO STEAL FROM ME?" he shouted, his indignation and rage echoing in the air, as Khalor began to search for any clues. Inside, he cursed himself for not having invested a few credits in installing an alarm in the warehouse or even leaving a servitor on night watch to keep an eye on things.

When the Vandalorian guards from the noble House Gaetan—lords of the series of industrial levels spanning levels 50 to 60 and 70—arrived, alarmed by his shouting, they were met with Khalor's red eyes and flushed face, his anger and frustration spilling over. "WORTHLESS IDIOTS! NOT EVEN YOUR BLOODY REPUTATION HAS BEEN ENOUGH TO DETER THIEVES FROM ROBBING ME!"

Hearing his words and feeling the weight of his accusatory finger, one of the guards shifted from surprise to a serious, stern expression, speaking in a low, menacing tone, "I recommend, my lord, that you refrain from uttering any more words that might call your regard for House Gaetan into question."

Upon hearing the guard's cold reminder, the merchant found himself swallowing the rest of what he wanted to say as he received the guards' accusing and challenging glares. The other guard added, "Now then, you mentioned that you have been robbed. Tell us what happened, and we shall ensure, under the emblem of House Gaetan, that this issue is resolved."

With no alternative but to choke down his frustration and rage, Khalor began to recount how, during his daily routine, he had discovered the warehouse where he kept his inventory partially empty, realising he had fallen victim to a theft.

Thus, the merchant started to question and berate both guards over the alleged lack of protection on the level, prompting them to call for reinforcements and begin an investigation.

Though the materials were not numerous in the grand scheme of things, the honour of House Gaetan and its reputation were at stake. Khalor Judimer, being a partner of that house and a physical embodiment of the commercial guarantee that the noble house boasted, needed to make this incident exemplary to demonstrate that there were certain things that even rats and criminal gangs ought to respect.

Thus, a formal investigation was soon underway, and the entire level was placed on high alert as measures began to be implemented. House Gaetan had vowed to get to the bottom of the matter and bring consequences upon the insolent wretch who dared to question their capacity and honour.

By mid-morning, after reviewing the various footage and monitoring tools on the level repeatedly, they had finally identified a figure, a primary suspect in the incident. A figure that would lead them into a whirlwind of unforeseen revelations, profoundly impacting the apparent calm of Vandalor.

...

And while House Gaetan found itself embroiled in an unexpected incident that tarnished its image, alarms were sounding on various levels throughout Vandalor, as well as on Aurelian Prime.

Fluctuations in the Immaterium triggered several alarms and sensors across the city as stern hands and eyes took control of them, reading data, messages, and notifications.

One of the many individuals attentive to what was unfolding for that brief moment was a sickly and taciturn figure. From the depths of their sunken eyes, dark circles framed two white retinas as they gazed down at the lower levels of Vandalor from their vantage point in the midst of the hive city.

"Even amidst the cacophony this city creates, we have felt it…" their voice murmured in an almost withered tone. Their fingers rested on the balcony railing as they slightly furrowed their brow, devoid of eyebrows.

Turning towards the interior of the building, the figure made their way through lavishly adorned and furnished rooms, paying no heed to the looks from the various delegates and individuals who stepped aside for them. Only cherubic figures singing a comforting hymn accompanied them, while this figure murmured the same lyrics in baroque and Gregorian tones.

Entering a spacious, high room protected by intricate defences against all manner of infernal beings, passing through rings of protective enchantments concealed among the wax of hundreds of candles and complicated diagrams, the sickly figure of the man halted several metres from a figure clad in armour.

Straightening his back, the man parted his lips and, in a fragile voice, said, "My lord Tiberius, I fear there has been activity in the Empyrean that could be of great concern and danger."

"Speak, Pietro."

The Inquisitor merely responded, still facing away as he perused piles of documents before him with an expressionless and focused countenance.

"There have been two echoes that resonated even amid the cacophony this city produces. Two echoes that remind me of portals and perhaps something more…" Pietro began, licking his dry lips in a bid to ease the dryness in his throat. However, the Inquisitor remained indifferent to his acolyte's words, awaiting his continuation.

"Though I couldn't tell you where, I know it has been in the lower levels, my lord. I believe it's connected to our investigation, for thus far nothing has emerged…"

"Enough, Pietro. You don't have to convince me. Try to corroborate whether other instruments have detected this activity and find out if anything unusual has happened through the nobles. When you have something concrete, we shall both investigate." Finally turning to regard the pale astropath, Tiberius said firmly, sealing the course of events. This made Pietro nod in agreement as he handed over a holopad where he stored his own information from his instruments, preparing to carry out the assigned orders.

After several days and meetings, the Inquisitor had managed to secure the support of the noble houses of Vandalor, thus establishing a greater network of monitoring throughout the city in addition to that already set up by the Inquisition.

Though Tiberius had spent most of his recent days reading ancient texts and files to decipher the nature of the discovered sarcophagus, his time was also filled with constant interrogations of potential members of that heretical cult, with the connections becoming increasingly evident as he unravelled the thread.

Many questions, however, piled up more and more as he listened to the words heavy with doubt, shadow, and stench that everyone seemed to sing after their sessions of torture. But Tiberius remained steadfast in his quest to uncover the truth lurking beneath the surface.

Fortunately for him, a series of events would soon unfold that could shed light to guide him through the dark and uncertain paths looming over his case, events that would send Vandalor into turmoil.

...

After exploring the Thunderhawk until his curiosity was thoroughly sated, Gino stored the vessel in his inventory after securing a couple of lasguns along with their ammunition and a box of equipment supplies. Constructing that ship not only provided Gino with several experience points but also bestowed upon him a goldmine regarding various types of equipment found in the transport deck of the vessel.

Each ship and variant within the system contained gear, provisions, supplies, and various items within their interiors. The Thunderhawk, for example, was fully equipped and ready to be deployed during an assault on a planet, potentially providing Astartes alongside materials to replenish troop inventories on the battlefield and accomplish whatever objective or mission was at hand.

This fact made Gino look forward with great optimism to the different types of ships, vehicles, fortresses, platforms, space stations, and other structures that the system could provide him once constructed. It would likely allow him to acquire unique technology and pieces of equipment found nowhere else in the Imperium.

Aware of this and pleased inside by all that had transpired, Gino ignored the fatigue in his body and headed towards the Guild, thinking to himself, 'Now then, since I have the Arvus Lighter, the ideal scenario would be to start piloting it little by little while taking on better jobs in the Guild and earning more credits. If I want to secure my first subordinates and keep afloat whatever I build, I need credits to start paying for fuel and other necessities.'

One thing that became crystal clear to Gino was an important fact regarding what The Forge System allowed him. His ships and technology pieces required a constant supply line as well as a significant capital to keep them operational. This was something that, even when distancing himself from the Guild, would currently be impossible.

'If I want to carve out my path and grow, the Guild can be a useful tool while they also use me. The jobs I take for them with the ship will certainly put me on the radar of others while I earn money.' Recognising that the Guild's reputation and potential connections were its biggest draws, Gino realised he needed to maintain his presence there for the time being.

'But the ideal would be to get closer to more people, like at the O'Shalle bar; only then can I ensure that I gradually build a following that might become loyal to me at some point. At the same time, I need to secure a larger number.' His eyes fixed on the required crew count for the Sword-Class Frigate as he thought this; it was thousands of individuals he would need just to pilot a small escort vessel of the Imperium. The larger cruisers demanded several times this amount just to consider operating them.

'For now, the important thing is to ensure that Beatrix, Carrack, Jarro, Trav, Lando, and Helmutt are recognised by the system as members of my crew. From there, I'll plan what I really intend to do next.' Recognising that contemplating anything beyond what he had at hand was unnecessary, Gino continued on his way to the Guild while unconsciously debating what he truly wanted to become.

A rogue trader? A mercenary? Part of some noble force? A multitude of possibilities lay before him, especially considering his Incorruptible trait and the fact that he was a psyker capable of fully harnessing his powers in the future. The possibilities were truly endless.

'After work, I'll head to the O'Shalle bar for the old man to teach me how to shoot. Now that I have lasguns in my inventory, it would be ideal to stay ready and prepared for any threat.' Adding this reminder, Gino turned the final corner that led to the main street where the Guild was located.

As he observed the miserable appearance of those passing around him, he entered through the side door and headed straight for the cantina to eat. After a hectic night and morning, his body was roaring for something to eat.

Waiting in line alongside other downtrodden workers in absolute silence as they were served their rations, he began to watch the entrance, hoping to see Beatrix's figure making her way in as usual.

However, when it was his turn and he sat in his usual spot, he couldn't spot her anywhere. 'How strange that she hasn't arrived yet. Did they give her some crap job that made her take longer?' Gino couldn't help but wonder while he devoured the sludgy food. His brow slightly furrowed as he felt a twinge of concern.

After all, neither he nor Beatrix usually skipped meals or avoided speaking to one another during one of the few daily windows where they could converse calmly without having to juggle understanding each other over the noise of the masks.

His concern only grew, however, after finishing his lunch and the hour coming to an end, without Beatrix's figure appearing in the cantina.

Making his way to where Brund was, to request his daily job as well as to inquire about Beatrix's whereabouts, Gino waited for other colleagues to choose their tasks until he was finally face to face with his supervisor.

"Hey, Brund, do you know wh—" Just as Gino was about to ask about Beatrix, the sound of several footsteps echoed through the hallways of the building.

Turning his head towards the door that led to the long corridor filled with doors, where Flokk's office was located, Gino, along with everyone else present, witnessed a procession of armed individuals clad in Guild attire, being led by a woman with several scars on her face and bright turquoise eyes.

For a moment, those electric, unsettling eyes widened in surprise and confusion as they looked at Gino. The woman seemed to let out a sigh of relief in that brief moment, overwhelmed by something only she understood.

Yet, as fleeting as it was, that moment vanished as the woman's expression turned severe, and the armed men surrounded everyone present, blocking all exits.

The weapons they carried were soon aimed at the crowd, most of them trained on Gino.

"W-what's happening?!"

"I-I swear I didn't do anything!"

"I assure you, I haven't contacted my family again; ask them, ask them!"

The remaining workers soon began to murmur and plead as they fell to their knees. However, Brund appeared slightly annoyed as he immediately asked, "Hey, what the hell is wrong with you lot pointing your weapons at me!? Put them down, or I swear you'll regret it."

Some complied and lowered their weapons, while two individuals moved closer and whispered something in Brund's ear, prompting him to step away from the counter and exit the room, muttering under his breath, "Damn it, with these idiots; they better not break any holopads…"

The woman, who had remained silent and was still locked in a gaze with Gino, soon opened her lips to say, "You know what you've done, don't you? You'd better come with us if you don't want this to end badly for you and your little girlfriend."

As those words left her mouth, two men aimed their weapons behind Gino's head and back, causing his blood to run cold. He opened his eyes and mouth in surprise and horror.

With brutal force, they soon bound Gino's hands as he could only watch the woman, his mind racing with the same question over and over: 'What the hell did I do to the Guild? Why the hell are they talking about Bea?'

Feeling his body being shoved forward, Gino was escorted down a corridor he hadn't traversed before while two rows of armed men flanked him, observing his every move in meticulous detail. Gino could only gaze blankly at the woman's back as his mind was engulfed in complete and utter chaos.

It was only after several corners and hallways led to staircases descending to the lower levels that Gino finally recognised where they were taking him. Cells and cages lining both sides of a wide corridor made him realise this was the Guild's dungeon.

However, Gino was not as fortunate as the malnourished individuals who looked at him as they lay exhausted on the floors. He was soon taken into a dimly lit room where a familiar figure awaited him, seated alongside another individual he didn't recognise, but who seemed to regard him with anger and malice.

Pushed and brought before the two, Gino gritted his teeth as he raised his gaze to meet Flokk's impassive expression. Flokk spoke in his deep voice, "Oh, Gino, Gino, Gino. I truly never expected our next meeting to be in such circumstances. But you know very well why you're here, don't you?"

With his heart threatening to leap from his chest, Gino's mind went blank as he prepared to confront reality at last.

After all, this was Warhammer 40,000.

------

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