Chapter 2: The Only Iron Law of This World
Bang!
A deafening gunshot rang out, followed by the muffled thud of a body hitting the carriage wall.
Horatio's heart tightened, his breathing becoming rapid and heavy.
"What are you doing... Ughhh!!!" Before the hot-tempered man could even shout, he was frantically stabbed with sharp knives by two men rushing towards him.
Horatio felt warm, slippery liquid splatter on his cheek.
—Blood.
Horatio's blue eyes glanced over; the helmet visor of the guard on his right had been blasted open by a powerful impact, leaving a bloody hole, his death gruesome.
The hot-tempered man on his left, who had just been venting his anger on him, now had his chest stabbed open, a bloody mess.
"Cough..." He slumped against Horatio, his eyes fixed on him, filled with shock and fear, only able to gurgle through his throat, blocked by blood bubbles.
After a chilling eye contact, Horatio couldn't help but shudder. The heavy body pressed down on him uncomfortably, and instinctively, he elbowed the man, causing the volatile older man to slump against the row of seats.
Moments later, dark red blood flowed onto the floor, soaking the soles of his shoes.
"You've betrayed us! Let me go! Get out!" the Huntress shouted, surrounded by several men.
Horatio tried to get up to do something, but a knife was pressed against his pale neck.
"Behave yourself, or I'll kill you."
A scarred, burly man in a haunted police uniform pressed Horatio's knee into the seat, the man feeling the blade tighten slightly against his neck.
The blade grazed Horatio's neck, and the scarred man grinned maliciously, enjoying the thrill of intimidation.
Horatio clenched his lips, his teeth clenched.
The situation was dire, but a rash confrontation without the handcuffs removed would surely come at a terrible price.
After weighing the pros and cons, Horatio decided to endure it for now, so he lowered his head silently, feigning submission.
The scarred man, smug, spat in Horatio's face, completely unaware of the chilling glint in his eyes.
Thump! A muffled sound interrupted the scarred man's 'enjoyment'.
Although the Huntress was a woman, with advance warning and superb fighting skills, she was initially no less capable than a man, making it difficult for the cultists to subdue her. With
an over-the-shoulder throw, she slammed the man holding her arm to the ground, then snapped his arm with a sharp crack.
A piercing scream echoed through the carriage. Seeing her skill, everyone swarmed towards the Huntress, determined to overwhelm her with sheer numbers.
The wounded man lay in a pool of blood, writhing on the ground clutching his broken arm, unknowingly rolling to Horatio's feet.
He stared coldly at the cultist posing as a bailiff from the city, his face filled with murderous intent. He
was not only consumed by hatred for the scarred man's actions, but also, through the original owner's memories, he remembered every debt these men owed him. Rape, kidnapping, murder, cannibalism, child abuse—he had been arrested while trying to stop their evil rituals.
The 'Labor Gang,' seen as hope by the port workers, had crumbled after losing its leader, and no one spoke up for them anymore.
The poor had once again become tools to be exploited and ruthlessly squeezed, with no security, working two shifts a day in extremely dangerous jobs in the port's cargo area. What infuriated him most was that he had risked his life to climb from the lower to the middle of the city.
Life had finally started to improve, but in the blink of an eye, all his hard work, every single detail, had been destroyed, and now even his life was in danger.
And the clues to his past, painstakingly investigated for five years in the port area, had been severed the moment he was imprisoned.
"It's all these bastards' fault…!"
Horatio's teeth clenched so tightly they cracked, his uncontrollable rage making every breath scorching.
Taking advantage of everyone's attention being focused on subduing the Huntress, he stomped on the cultist's helmet.
Crack! Thud! —
The broken edge of the fiberglass mask, like a paper-slicing blade, pierced straight into the man's face with his powerful stomp.
Before the wounded could cry out, Horatio followed up with a stomp on his throat.
Crack! —
Like stepping on an egg, the neck beneath his foot instantly disintegrated into dislocated, shattered bones and skin, the entire cervical spine exaggeratedly bent into a taut bow shape by the powerful force.
The speed was so fast that the man died silently on the spot, without even a sound.
Horatio, who had been holding back his anger for so long, finally breathed a sigh of relief. After a while, he belatedly realized that he had killed a scoundrel.
He blinked his dry eyes, his mouth slightly swollen, his parched throat involuntarily swallowing. His gaze at the corpse shifted from cold to incredulous, his right eyelid twitching incessantly, and his breathing became increasingly rapid.
[Is this my instinct?] Horatio felt awe at the killing instinct honed in this body through long years of experience in the lower lair.
He bit his lip, quickly gathering his thoughts.
A metallic taste filled his bitter mouth, awakening some of his dormant taste buds and helping him calm down quickly.
[These guys are all wicked, heinous cultists.]
[With a knife to my throat, what's there to hesitate about?]
[Only they will fall to the ground and grow cold, not me!]
Horatio mentally worked on himself using the psychological manipulation techniques he had learned in his previous life.
This was a world of extreme darkness.
Killing and being killed were the only ironclad laws of this world.
There was no mercy, no pity, only adaptation. A
moment later, Horatio opened his eyes again, a hint of determination in them.
*Buzz*—that
ethereal sound rang out once more. Horatio jolted, straightening his posture slightly, and subtly scanned his surroundings, realizing that only he could hear it.
Horatio closed his eyes and saw several small sparks drift into the 'experience bar'.
At that moment, he realized that the so-called 'experience' was actually Soul Fire!
Before transmigrating, it was during the New Year, and with nothing to do, he had used the pink app to browse through a lot of the plot and the Translator's settings, and even bought several sets of Blood Angels and Battle Sisters pieces, giving him a fairly comprehensive understanding of the Warhammer world.
He remembered that although the people of this world were physically in the physical universe, their souls had a projection like a flame in the warp.
This was 'Soul Fire'.
These flames varied in size, and those individuals who could connect to the Warp with their psychic powers were called pyskers.
This was both a blessing and a curse.
Advanced psykers could wield powerful and terrifying strength, but the Warp was fraught with danger.
Once these talents were used, there was a chance of being controlled by the malevolent forces within the Warp, becoming a gateway connecting the Warp and the real world.
However, Horatio wasn't worried about this.
The original owner had been tested and found not to be a psyker when he entered the orphanage, so he wasn't worried about being captured by the Black Ships, much less being thrown into the Startorch as firewood.
'Soul Fire: 10/10'
The Soul Fire gauge slowly filled, emitting a golden glow as it converged on the talent tree.
'Active Functions'
'Soul Fire: 0/20'
In an instant, several flashing circles suddenly appeared at the bottom of the previously mostly dim talent tree, as if beckoning Horatio to choose.
Horatio's brows furrowed slightly, and he quickly scanned the available skills with a flickering motion.
**Machine Soul Affinity:** Consumes one unit of energy. Any low- to mid-level machine soul vessel handled will be greatly pleased by the machine soul.
Passive: Gains superhuman knowledge acquisition efficiency.
Psionic Synchronization: Consumes one unit of energy. Allows manipulation and utilization of all low- to mid-level psionic energies within a 25-meter radius for a period of time, simultaneously increasing (the psyker's) or decreasing (the soulless's) corruption by two units. Passive: Under psionic conditions, 'Dark Hand' slowly recharges itself, 4 hours/unit.
Powered Iron Fist: Consumes one unit of energy. Overloads the prosthetic limb's power system for a period of time. Passive: Activates the prosthetic limb's power system, increasing strength.
[I want them all…]
Horatio was still undecided when a painful scream interrupted his thoughts.
"Ouch! You cultists! I am a noblewoman! Daughter of a legendary Imperial naval captain! I will handcuff you to ramming posts! I will have you smashed into dust by meteorites in the void!"
The Huntress was struck from behind with a baton, her custom-made rifle clattering to the ground.
In the midst of the struggle, facing the oncoming enemy, she leaped up, kicking the scarred, burly man hard in the groin, but she herself was also knocked to the ground.
"Ouch!" The scarred man clutched his groin, jumping back a few steps, but soon, the pain turned to rage.
His eyes were bloodshot, ignoring the pain, he rushed towards the girl who had just gotten up.
*Slap!*
"Ugh!" A heavy, crisp slap, accompanied by the girl's piercing scream, pierced Horatio's eardrums.
The hunting lady's headgear was blown off, her long, pale golden hair cascading down like a waterfall, filling the air with the intoxicating scent of night-blooming jasmine, stirring unsettling emotions.
She looked very young, probably only sixteen or seventeen, with delicate and pretty features, a beautiful face and arched eyebrows.
A heartbreaking red mark marred her round, fair cheeks, which were like solidified cream.
Crystalline tears welled in her large, watery, almond-shaped eyes, but refused to fall.
She glared hatefully at the cultists disguised as law enforcers, bit her lip, and charged forward again to fight them.
"Hmph, you little bitch, so what if you're a noble! So what if you're the daughter of a colonel! Hahaha, I'll beat you to death today!" the scarred, burly man roared, his eyes wide with rage, and swung his baton forward.
*Beep beep beep—* The communicator buzzed.
"What's the situation?"
a deep, greasy voice came through the communicator. Horatio strained to hear the message amidst the noise and screams.
"Everything's going well, High Priest. We've got both sacrifices under control," one of the imposters replied.
"Good. Bring him here as soon as possible. He's important ritual material. Don't hurt him! As for the woman, just keep her alive!"
"Hehehe. Yes, Your Excellency!"
the imposter chuckled wickedly, giving Horatio a shifty look. Seeing that Horatio was still sitting obediently in his seat, Horatio's eyes gleamed with lewdness as he stared intently at the Huntress, who was fighting desperately, completely ignoring his fellow church members lying in the blood.
*Beep*—Communication lost.
"Did you hear what the High Priest said? Line up and take turns teaching this guy a lesson!"
Everyone watching swallowed hard. To them, noble girls were swans they could never reach in their entire lives, let alone such a peerless beauty.
They pushed the unarmed female vigilante back to the rear cabin door, surrounded her, and grinned wickedly.
"..."
Horatio watched the thugs' despicable actions with a cold gaze.
Now that their vigilance was lax, it was the perfect moment he had been waiting for to retaliate.
[This score needs to be settled...]
The combined rage of her ego and bodily instincts was surging up like an uncontrollable fire, like erupting lava.
'Activating Power Fist... 1%'
A beam of light slowly spread from the prosthetic hand to the entire prosthetic arm.
The scarred, burly man who had slapped the Huntress chuckled like a boar, leading his men to attack the blonde girl.
"Die, you vile heretic! The God-Emperor will punish you!" The Huntress smashed one of their noses with a punch.
But she was no match for so many strong men. She was knocked to the ground by the swarm of cultists, her hands and feet cuffed, and she was pushed back, falling at Horatio's feet.
Even so, her eyes still shone with defiance. Even though her
delicate, white wrists were rubbed red by the shackles, she still struggled desperately, gritting her teeth.
"Activating Power Fist... 55%"
The alloy handcuffs on Horatio's prosthetic limb groaned and began to crack.
"All of you get to the back! I'll go first!" The scarred, burly man impatiently pushed the others aside, kicked off the girl's fallen helmet, and walked towards her.
Seeing that her last resistance had failed,
the Huntress, powerless to fight back, felt utterly hopeless. She lowered her noble head weakly, her loose, flowing golden hair falling down to conceal the pain on her face. "
Mother, I'm sorry, I can't avenge you...
Father, I'm sorry, I've failed your expectations...
But I will never be defiled by these scum...
May the Emperor redeem my soul..."
With her hands cuffed, she placed her tongue between her pearly teeth.
"I pledge allegiance to the Dark Prince, the King of Debauchery, the Lord of Pleasure! Ugh!" The scarred, burly man roared like an ape, grinning as he approached the girl bound by shackles.
Horatio suddenly straightened up, drawing everyone's attention.
Although this young woman was unruly and mean, she was still a dutiful enforcer of the Empire.
Horatio, seeing the handcuffs about to slip from his grasp, prepared to help her.
"Pah! Shameless! So many people bullying a girl, even the Dark Prince would be ashamed of you!"
Before the scarred, burly man could act, he was interrupted by the rebuke, like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, ruining his mood.
Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice.
"What did you say? You dog!" The scarred man stepped over the fallen blonde girl, clenching his massive fist, and charged straight at Horatio.
"I said..."
Horatio sneered, rising from his seat.
He stretched his stiff neck and calmly mocked,
"Your freakish, half-human master would be ashamed of you." The scarred, burly man,
much taller than Horatio, slammed his broken baton heavily on the ground, veins bulging on his forehead, face, and arms.
"I'm going to smash your pretty boy's mouth to pieces today!"
The burly man cursed, raising his fist and charging straight at Horatio's face.
[Activating Power Fist...99%]
The alloy handcuffs on his prosthetic arm disintegrated, scattering on the ground...