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Walking back into the black market, it felt strangely unfamiliar, even though not much time had passed since his last visit.
Since the last time he'd been here, he'd fought for his life again. And after the last visit, when he and Nicole had sold some supply crates to Markus, all contact with this black-market dealer had mostly been through their phones.
It had indeed been a long while since they'd met in person. The Salamander's body hadn't fully recovered in recent days, and he finally had a rare bit of free time. Remembering his long-idle motorcycle project, he decided to visit the black market to meet this versatile dealer friend.
Markus "Lightning" Red had quite the personality—and apparently a new hairstyle. Last time, his hair had been a blue flat-top; now it was a bright golden mohawk.
From a distance, it looked like he had a comb sticking out of his head…
Still, the guy's hair volume was impressive enough to withstand such styling.
"Hey, I say!" The yellow mohawk turned toward him. "What brings you here? Can't be just to admire my new look, right?"
"Hm? Ah!" Ignis tore his gaze away from Markus's head. "Remember the motorcycle I mentioned before? I'm here for my ride."
"Of course I remember," the black-market dealer nodded. "So? Got the funds to get one built now? Actually, if you need, I could even get you an armored vehicle."
"What?" The Salamander blinked. He knew this black-market contact had military ties, but an armored vehicle?
Wasn't that a bit over the top? And why would he even need that? Honestly, in terms of armor thickness, his power armor might be sturdier than the wheeled armored vehicles used by New Eridu's military.
"What would I need that for?" Ignis countered.
"Clearing inventory," Markus shrugged indifferently. "Some older vehicles hitting their retirement age, but still in decent condition. If you don't want them, I'll have to find someone else. Considering your size, only a heavy assault vehicle could fit you."
"But you don't seem interested. I'll check the Outer Ring if anyone else wants them." Markus waved the topic aside. "So… do you have your motorcycle design ready?"
"Almost. Want to take a look?" Ignis pulled a blueprint from his jacket.
"Let me see…" The yellow mohawk took it.
Considering the Salamander's size and load requirements, this wasn't really a motorcycle—it was closer to a two-wheeled truck. Capable of carrying five to six tons while maintaining a top speed of at least 200 km/h.
Markus could only think of a newly released truck engine with immense output but compact size due to new tech.
The frame was low-slung, with two massive custom wheels over a meter in diameter. The chassis used welded metal tubing, designed to handle heavy loads, vibrations at high speeds, and rough terrain. Only the highest-grade alloys from select labs could suffice.
He even planned to mount weapon systems—like the autocannons fitted on armored vehicles used by the Public Security.
"Don't you think that's a bit overkill?" Markus asked after studying the blueprint. "Ever consider that packing all these specs into one motorcycle might be asking too much?"
Ignis couldn't tell him that during his Sixth Company training, he'd already piloted similar bikes. The combat motorcycles used by Space Marine squads exceeded his current requirements in both speed and firepower. They carried twin grenade launchers and had light armor.
Three bikes plus an ATV could form a reconnaissance squad, capable of fire reconnaissance and even flanking enemy positions.
In New Eridu, he couldn't say this directly—local materials science wasn't advanced enough, and the grenade launchers' tech wasn't feasible. Using a 30mm autocannon system was a practical compromise: production and maintenance were possible locally, and firepower sufficient for most targets.
"Honestly, the bikes I've ridden were simpler than this," Ignis admitted. "The blueprint only faithfully reproduces the load capacity; everything else is simplified."
"What exactly do you do that a motorcycle needs that much firepower and speed?" Even behind radiation sunglasses, Markus's doubt was clear. "Five to six tons at 200 km/h? What kind of vehicle can even do that?"
Don't ask. Typical Imperial black tech…
Ignis knew he couldn't explain, so he said simply: "Don't ask too much—just tell me if it's feasible."
Markus gritted his teeth. He'd heard the guy's bike demands were high, but this… this was next-level. He wondered if Ignis was joking with these insane specs.
"To be honest, I'm not sure you can build this…" Markus shook his head. "Even if my engineers could meet the specs, the price…"
"Special materials and processes, not mass-producible. You know what to expect, right?"
Facing the black-market giant's question about cost, Ignis hesitated. He knew how unrealistic his specs were, at least for New Eridu. High customization was always expensive, and factoring in spare parts for maintenance made it even more so. He hadn't checked his account balance recently…
"Should be fine… Let's at least see if it's feasible. Gather your engineers, estimate production costs, then we'll discuss further." The Salamander tried to negotiate.
Markus immediately knew he wasn't confident—especially financially.
"Alright, fine. I'll have my engineers evaluate and draft a cost estimate," Markus said, pocketing the blueprint. "But you cover the experts' fees."
"You can't even spare a little for an old client?" The Salamander tried to appeal to sentiment.
Markus frowned. "Old clients are a dime a dozen. If every one of them played this card, why would I stay in the black market? Profit's why I'm here. Cut my profit, I might as well trade officially."
Seeing Ignis about to argue, he cut him off: "Don't say a word—next thing, I'll send the priciest expert possible!"
"Fine, fine." Ignis gave in, already thinking about attempting it himself in the workshop. But the difficulty was extreme. The frame was manageable, but the axles required precise calculation—material type, diameter—were all critical. Miscalculations could lead to catastrophic failures.
Better leave it to professionals… Maybe he could check the blacksmith guild for profitable jobs and stock up on Denny instead.
Seeing Ignis accept the terms, Markus noted it and shifted to casual conversation.
"I heard the Cunning Hares joined Public Security on that… behavior correction school raid. Some mutants appeared? Most deputies died? Any details?"
Markus, backed by higher-level Defense Force contacts, clearly had intel. Even he had picked up whispers from Zhu Yuan's recorded footage.
"Ask your superiors if you want to know," Ignis deflected.
"I'm worried these things might multiply. Could my teams face them in the future?" Markus's tone turned serious.
"I heard during the recent list purge, some people under drug influence mutated during arrests. Less severe than the school incident, but some deputies still died."
"I don't want my squads facing foes they can't fight back against," Markus said, locking eyes with the Salamander. "Like the Tiger Squad—wiped out effortlessly."
His gaze burned; beneath the comical exterior, this ex-Defense Force officer was serious.
"Use fire," Ignis said bluntly. "If you don't care about casualties, equip your squads with flamethrowers or similar. No matter how mutated, they're still flesh and blood. Your laser weapons are weak; fire is more reliable."
"I'll add some to the Jaxcalibur Squad's gear," Markus sighed. "Damn it… first Razor, now this Sinera mess. My friend, all of this is somehow tied to you."
He couldn't tell Markus the truth: it was after the Salamander arrived that the Four Chaos Gods noticed this world.
And with Tzeentch already active, Khorne and Slaanesh cultivating their forces… what was Nurgle doing?
Though slower and more "peaceful," after Slaanesh's chaos, Nurgle wouldn't remain idle. Or was New Eridu's healthcare system keeping the spread of the plague slow?
No—nonsense. Nurgle's plagues could even transform steel into flesh with tentacles. It was more like memetic contamination than a true epidemic.
Maybe Nurgle hadn't noticed—or was just lazy. But if a large-scale outbreak occurred here, the advanced medical and social systems would notice quickly.
Suddenly, Ignis's phone rang—a video call from Gotthardt.
The Salamander moved to a secluded corner to answer.
"My little cousin, you won't believe what Grace made!" the veteran exclaimed, flushed with excitement. "She's a genius, I tell you!"
Hearing this, Ignis tensed. Last time, Gotthardt had mentioned research with Grace, but he hadn't paid much attention—New Eridu's materials science wasn't as wild as the Warhammer universe.
"What is it?" Ignis asked.
"Look!" The ten-thousand-year veteran switched to the rear camera.
A weapon with electromagnetic acceleration coils, a combustion-chamber-like structure at the back. Compared to the size of the Bangboo maintaining it, it must be at least four to five meters long.
A combustion chamber? Electromagnetic coils?
Wait—
"This… is it?" Ignis's voice rose several octaves.
"Yes!" the veteran laughed heartily. "A plasma cannon! Grace replicated a plasma cannon!"
Holy—she's serious? How did she do it?
In the Warhammer universe, plasma weapons use a miniature fusion core to heat hydrogen into plasma. But New Eridu doesn't really use nuclear tech… How did she stabilize plasma?
"Exciting, right?" the veteran beamed. "Assembly is nearly done. Testing soon—you have to see it."
Absolutely have to see! And check if it can be miniaturized! If successful, I finally get a practical long-range weapon!
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