Chapter IV: Surviving in Vandalor

Quick announcement I'll be retaking Saiyan In Warhammer from now onwards again so I'll be updating both these novels at the same time.

Also, I've created a discord server for both novel where I can speak with you guys and post more images that are not allowed on Web novel. I'll need some help thought to finish with the discord details so it can function properly.

https://discord.gg/KV7KAwJq

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It's been more than three days since I woke up on Aurelian Prime and decided to join the Guild. That's what the criminal organisation I've signed up with is called, and I've been working non-stop for these three days.

True to the words of that man—who I now know is named Flokk—I've been moving from place to place almost without rest, working like a simple pawn, hauling loads that have left me breathless and drained of strength every single day.

The jobs are straightforward. Most of the time, I'm moving heavy metal crates to the Guild's main building, specifically to the storage area. Other times, I have to take the same crates to some nearby business where no one pays me or says anything; they just point to where to drop them off, and that's it.

So far, I haven't seen a single credit or any kind of currency. My payment has been a space to sleep in the main building, alongside the other workers in my same situation, and two packs of food, which, by the way, taste awful, but seem to be nutritious enough to keep me going.

I'm not sure if it's the food, the lack of proper sleep, or even the air itself, but I've felt more fatigued with each passing day. The daily tasks are getting harder to manage, and I constantly feel short of breath. I'm basically sleeping with my nose blocked due to the thick mucus I produce, sneezing every day, while my eyes feel swollen and dry.

Still, I've been able to push through these days by doing what I'm told, like some bloody robot. My mind has been more occupied with planning what to do next than worrying about the tasks at hand. It's a way to cope with the gruelling physical work I'm subjected to.

So far, I don't regret taking this job as my first option, especially considering what I've seen on the streets. As I've walked around, I've noticed that many people don't even have a daily meal or a place to sleep, not to mention the trouble they get into with the authorities when they patrol the streets.

I haven't run into this problem myself, as the Guild seems to have some sort of deal with the local authorities, so they haven't searched me or asked for documents, unlike others I've seen. This is actually quite useful, considering I have no way to explain or justify my current presence in this world or how I got here.

However, witnessing this kind of situation has made me take my immediate future much more seriously. I need some way to get credits and resources to get off this damned planet and start making use of my system and skills.

From talking to and listening to the people around me, I've come to understand that it will be very difficult for me to climb up the ranks and get close to the Imperial higher-ups who might make use of my abilities and let me shine. I've even found myself in the position of not being able to comprehend the sheer ignorance of most people regarding what's going on in the galaxy. This surprises me, even as someone who wasn't all that informed about Warhammer 40,000.

'I don't know if it's through omission or a deliberate choice by the rulers, but keeping people in such ignorance and darkness is really counterproductive for them.' That was my position on the matter, especially given the oppressive, crushing feeling that seemed to hang over the entire city.

All this made me realise I needed to make a decision quickly about how to get the capital to get out of here, one way or another.

Which is why I was currently on my way to Flokk's office, the person in charge of managing referrals for the Guild. Now dressed in a black overalls that they'd given me for work, with the Guild's symbol on the back and a bit too small for me, along with a pair of black boots, I finally looked like a decent person as I knocked on the door to Flokk's office, ignoring the stares of those passing through the long corridor.

"Come in."

As soon as I heard his response, I entered the same place where Flokk was. He looked up from his holopad and showed a hint of surprise as he said, "Oh, Gino, what brings you here?"

Stopping a few steps from his desk, I placed both hands behind my back and said, "Sir, I've come to ask if you could give me some work that would earn me credits. While I appreciate the roof and food, I need a bit more."

Leaning back in his chair, I sensed that Flokk was smiling as he replied, "Like everyone else, of course. After all, who doesn't want more for themselves?" He paused briefly, raised the holopad with one hand, and began using it before continuing, "You've performed reasonably well, and there have been no complaints about you. So, I think your request is within my reach."

I wasn't surprised that he admitted they were keeping an eye on me. It was expected. His calm and relaxed demeanour gave me some hope that I might get something good out of this.

"Though you haven't yet reported what kind of skills you have to offer, we've noticed you move around the area quite well. Interesting, considering you've mentioned you're not from here." As he said this, I saw his eyes settle on me with a hint of suggestion, clearly implying something.

"Taking that into account, I think I have a very good job for you. Here, have a look." Moving a data pad next to his left hand, he turned on the screen, and words in Low Gothic appeared on it.

Not bothering to take a second look, knowing it was pointless because the system only allowed me to speak and understand Low Gothic, I said, "I can't read, sir."

Flokk raised an eyebrow and muttered under his breath, "I didn't take you for an ignorant one..." Then he cleared his throat and continued, "We need you to guide a group of individuals through levels 3 and 5 until they reach a meeting point. There, you'll meet another guide who will take them through the sewers to a certain point. Your mission is to guide them to that spot, bring them back here, and keep an eye on the group and the other guide."

'This is quite a bit more than what I was doing before... but I suppose they'll pay well for it, right?' Almost as if he could read my mind, Flokk went on, "Make sure you do this well, and we'll pay you 100 credits. Not too shabby, eh?" His eyes seemed to suggest he was smiling.

I nodded and replied, "Yes, sir. Anything else I need to know?"

"Other than speaking better? No, nothing else, Gino. It's pretty simple. Go see Brund; he'll give you the details about the job." With a wave of his hand, I simply nodded and left his office, heading towards another part of the Guild.

Brund was the one in charge of assigning jobs and making sure us peons did everything correctly. Essentially, a supervisor.

'The pay is decent, though I wish I could find something else to do to avoid wasting too much time here.' I thought to myself while heading to Brund. A hundred credits wasn't a lot of money, but it was far more than most people earned in a day's work. Considering that the price of a simple food ration was around four credits, it made sense that, by the standards of the hive city inhabitants, it was a good sum.

'But not for me. I need more, much more. It's a shame I have no idea how to get closer to people in better positions than this.' I lamented.

Over the past few days, I'd tried to gather more information about ways to approach different factions but with little success. The hive city was massive, and with its thousands of streets, passageways, and alleys, anyone could get lost. Even with a fairly detailed map, it still lacked precise information on where I might find people from the Astra Militarum or the Adeptus Mechanicus, the two main branches of the Imperium of Mankind.

'If only it were as easy as asking and being told, "Oh yes, those guys are over there and there." Some people here don't even know who the tech-priests of the Mechanicum are.' Letting out a bit of frustration, I found myself standing in front of Brund, still pondering how that fat bartender Ricciardo knew about them.

The supervisor was at the end of the long passage where the shared quarters were located, sitting behind a counter with his back to a row of lockers where he kept the clothing and boots I now wore. He was a bald man of about forty, with brown skin and eyes to match, though his most distinctive feature was a bionic implant where his nose should have been.

Looking at me with tired, impatient eyes, he said firmly, "Well, what do you need, beanpole?" His hands held two different data pads, while several more were in use by other peons in front of the counter.

"Flokk told me there's a job for me, guiding certain individuals through the sewers..." I replied, turning my head slightly to avoid saying too much.

Brund raised an eyebrow but shook his head, exclaiming, "He seriously gave that job to you? For the Emperor's sake, you can barely be understood... but fine, you know your way around, so it shouldn't be a problem." His hands never stopped moving as he navigated through the files on his data pad.

Knowing I couldn't read, Brund proceeded to read the job details to me, "After lunch, you'll come here, and I'll show you who you have to guide. I don't care which route you take, just make sure you pass through the checkpoints they'll indicate. But I want you at the sewer gate on level 5 in 45 minutes. The one next to the Manufactorum, got it?" He showed me the image of the Manufactorum on his data pad.

"There will be a guide there, another rookie like you. Make sure she doesn't do anything funny along the way, got it? Her code is Bea. There should only be one guide; if there's anyone else, abort the job and come tell me." Brund paused in his explanation to scold a peon who had accidentally dropped a data pad.

Then he continued, "Pay attention to everyone's movements along the route. If you see anyone talking to themselves or wandering off, remember it—by the Emperor's teeth, Gino, wipe your nose, for crying out loud, what are you, a little baby!?" Immediately after he said this, I wiped my nose, embarrassed by the amount of mucus dripping from it.

Ever since I got to this planet, my body's reaction had become more apparent, and I had no doubt that the incredible amount of pollution in the air was the cause.

Shaking his head, Brund finished, "As soon as you return and they confirm you did everything right, I'll give you your reward. Now go prepare for the job and make sure to bring some sort of rag so you're not dripping snot all over the place and making the Guild look bad."

Returning to the room where I slept, I sat on my metal bed and opened the local map tab.

I was currently on level 03 of the hive city, almost on the outer ring, far from the core where the cluster of buildings that formed the city's peak stood. I needed to get to level 5, in a ring much closer to the interior, a distance of over 30 kilometers from my current position. 'And I have to get there in 45 minutes!? These bastards are going to make me sweat for a measly hundred credits.' I clenched my fists tightly, swallowing the bitterness.

If I'd learned anything, it was that complaining or asking what to do about these mission details would be futile. They were my problem now.

I reviewed the location of the Manufactorum, a large building with industrial lots where they produced various items, which, as far as I knew, could include weapons and other military objects. I verified the position of the sewer entrance.

Once I confirmed its existence and the route to take, I began evaluating which path would be the safest and quickest. I was so absorbed in my task that I barely noticed the alarm going off, signaling that it was time for lunch.

Heading to the Guild's communal dining area, I grabbed my daily ration, which I had no intention of questioning the origin of, and ate with a serious demeanor.

I found myself once again in front of Brund, who was talking to five different individuals: two women and three men. Four of them were mostly covered with hoods and some armor, while the fifth stood out due to the intricate tattoo that covered his entire head, along with several tubes connecting from his neck to his torso.

"Gino, these are the people you have to take to level 5. Ten more will join you at the checkpoints they will specify. You may leave." With his hurried tone, Brund informed us, and the six of us nodded before moving toward the exit of the Guild.

The route I chose would take around forty minutes if we moved at a fast pace, so as soon as we stepped outside, I shouted to the five of them, "Let's run if you want to get there on time!" They froze for a moment before starting to follow my lead.

We made our way through alleyways, staircases, balconies, and bridges, reaching the fourth level, where we briefly stopped to let another five individuals join us, this time carrying several large and seemingly heavy bags.

Dodging patrols and shoving aside those who didn't move out of our way, we reached the fifth level, where we met the last five members who were also carrying a lot of luggage. After leading them through a maze of tunnels that were completely empty and seemed to have been abandoned for some time, with the planetary map tab constantly open, we finally entered the area where the Manufactorum and the sewer entrance were located.

Gasping and coughing violently, I felt my eyes burn as I tried not to cry out in pain from breathing through my nasal passages. The group behind me gave me a glance while I tried to compose myself. The chimneys of dozens of massive factories spewed thick, dense smoke as my body sweated profusely; the surrounding high temperature, combined with the marathon-like sprint, had left me utterly exhausted.

'And I haven't even completed half the job yet. My god.' As I lamented this fact and regretted taking the job, I gritted my teeth and pressed on, staying alert to my surroundings and the group. I knew my task wasn't just to guide them but to spy on them as well.

Avoiding the streets leading to the Manufactorum gates due to the large number of soldiers guarding them, we moved closer to the entrance of the sewers.

There, waiting, was the figure of a young woman with black hair and mesmerizing eyes. With a mask covering the lower half of her face, like the fifteen other individuals following me, I cautiously asked as I approached, "Bea?"

Nodding, the young woman looked me up and down and then at the rest who were following me, before saying, "The very same!" She opened the sewer hatch and then exclaimed, "I suppose you'll be following me now, right? Hehe."

The second part of the mission was about to begin.

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