Horatio scurried over.
The caravan was dimly lit, and he unconsciously frowned.
[No one?]
Horatio walked to the caravan door and gently knocked on the wooden door.
There was no response after several knocks.
Damn it, there really was no one.
He remembered several times before when he had come here and found it closed. This Diviner's whereabouts were quite mysterious; many old customers didn't know her movements.
Some said she was an uncertified psyker, so she sometimes needed to hide her tracks.
But who knew?
He could only wait until he entered the Loyalist Academy and then figure out a way to come back and check.
Horatio let out a long sigh and leaned against the caravan, looking around.
At the same time, an inconspicuous, slender figure quietly leaned against the other side of the caravan.
"You've actually returned from the Adeptus Arbites," the man in a black-gray trench coat said in a low voice.
Horatio's brows furrowed, and he subtly glanced at the man.
"How did you find me, Deacon Jonathan? I've only been here for a little over ten minutes."
Horatio possessed the original owner's memories, so he naturally knew his previous network of contacts.
Deacon Jonathan was the second-in-command of the Labor Gang, Horatio's former capable subordinate. He used to be a foreman, treated people well, was hardworking, and relatively intelligent.
"Even if our organization has weakened, the workers' eyes are sharp. Stepping into the Adeptus Arbites is like stepping into a coffin. How did you get out?"
"I am a Childer of Loyalty."
...I really can't tell."
The man stiffly raised the corners of his mouth and chuckled, then leaned his head back and exhaled a puff of smoke, relieved: "What do you plan to do after you return?"
"Where is the Diviner?"
"She used to be here every third Sunday of the month, but as it's gotten more chaotic here, her whereabouts have become even more mysterious."
"How is the Labor Gang?"
"After you were arrested, we did suffer a significant blow. Most areas have fallen openly, but we quickly moved into the shadows, operating as a mutual aid society. Although we still maintain an underground intelligence and smuggling network, many places are no longer openly controlled by gangs."
"For example?"
"The Guild Alliance, the Citizen Army, and your comrades—a chaotic stew." The man chuckled mockingly as he said this:
"The F-4 Block before you is a very good example. The streets in the distance are full of protesting crowds, radical Citizen Army members, bloodthirsty Guild Alliance bounty hunters, and Childer of Loyalty Marine squads sent down by the Navy, who must have gotten their wires crossed. No gang would dare to foolishly run out and shout, 'This place belongs to me!' in such a chaotic free-for-all. That's good news, huh? What we lost, no one else should hope to gain."
"Got it. Want to talk over a meal?"
"No, Boss. I still have things to deal with."
"I won't be staying here for long this time. Wait for my future message," Horatio said.
"Then take care, Boss." The man leaned away from the caravan and said in a joking tone: "We'll probably live longer than you. The Loyalist Academy isn't a good place."
"Thank you."
"Also, it's not like before. The Guild Alliance's pawns shoot with their eyes closed. Be careful."
Then, the man turned gracefully and flicked a small dog tag to Horatio.
"If you need anything, you can find me here."
"Farewell." The man, with his back to Horatio, casually waved his hand.
Horatio remained leaning against the caravan, watching the bustling street, and closed his eyes with a heavy heart.
Until his rumbling stomach anxiously urged him on.
[Let's fill my stomach first.]
Horatio raised an eyebrow, looking at the dazzling array of restaurants with various styles around him.
Abyss Port demonstrated another great advantage of being a Starport city: its 'full galactic integration' was quite thorough. Here, you could find almost every style and specialty from across the Imperium of Man, and even outside the Imperium of Man (doubtful).
However, the excessive number of signs also gave Horatio a sense of déjà vu, like a reading impediment.
Soul Juice Fillet Lamb Head, Grilled Sea King Big Eye Fish, Pan-fried Stewed Koslin Three-legged Chicken, Stir-fried Alien...
What in the world is all this?! Damn it! Convex(Fuck the dish)
Horatio felt such severe decision paralysis for the first time, enveloped in a deep sense of exoticism and unfamiliarity.
From among so many dazzling signs, Horatio finally saw a sign that was so normal it felt incredibly familiar—Bean Blossom.
A lean, strong Hanzi wearing an apron was vigorously tossing a wok on a large stove in front of the door.
Horatio walked closer and saw that he was actually making shredded pork and egg fried rice!
Every toss of the wok by the Hanzi was just right, perfectly skilled, and the golden rice grains surged like waves, rising into the air, falling back into the wok, and exuding a rich aroma.
Horatio suppressed his drool and walked forward.
[Damn it, I'm already a Childer of Loyalty in the Warhammer world. I must reward myself handsomely today!]
Seeing a well-dressed young man with black hair approach, the Hanzi quickly greeted him: "Hey! Customer, how many?"
His hands continued to stir-fry and add ingredients.
Horatio raised his index finger.
"Alright, one! Shuyao, come out and serve!"
[Shuyao...? A... Hua Xia person from the 41st millennium??] Horatio blinked.
"Oh, okay, please wait a moment," a warm female voice came from behind the counter.
It was a girl about Horatio's age.
The black-haired girl with a ponytail slowly stood up from behind the open-air bar, took off her large round glasses, and tucked the pen she was holding behind her ear.
"Hello, customer. Are you dining or drinking?" A somewhat business-like, warm greeting came from her mouth.
The girl walked lightly around the bar, her pleated skirt swaying with her steps, and she wore a pair of small leather shoes that gave her a student-like air.
When she reached the door and saw that the customer was a handsome and refined young man with a gentle smile, a rare sight in the entire F-4 Block, her smooth, fair cheeks subtly flushed.
"Customer, please come in. Would you like to sit outside or inside?" The girl blinked her round eyes and asked with a smile.
If the Hanzi hadn't said anything, Horatio wouldn't have recognized her as his daughter. If she were carrying a school bag at that moment, she would have looked even more like a student.
"Is Shuyao your name?"
"Yes, sir, my name is Yin Shuyao," the girl replied with a smile.
Horatio instinctively wanted to ask, 'Are you Chinese?' but immediately stopped the words from escaping his mouth.
Please, this is the Imperium of Man. The God-Emperor has long since unified everything. Asking that question would be too heretic, wouldn't it?
"Sir?" The girl nimbly leaned closer to Horatio, asking in a clear, lark-like voice.
"Ah, oh, oh! Eating! One person! I'll sit outside, for the fresh air!" Horatio immediately snapped back and replied.
"Okay, please follow me~" The girl took light steps, leading Horatio to a small outdoor seating area by the drink bar.
As they passed by, the Hanzi grinned at him.
[Goodness, using a pretty daughter to attract customers, huh? Let's see how good your food is.] Horatio raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself.
"Customer, order whatever you like, it's all freshly stir-fried and served!" The Hanzi seemed to have read Horatio's mind.
He saw the big hand scoop the fried rice from the wok into a bowl with a large spoon.
The mixed aroma of green onions, eggs, shredded pork, and rice dispelled Horatio's last hesitation and doubts, dissolved by this irresistible 'Eastern power.'
The girl led Horatio to a soft seat near the drink bar. Horatio could tell she had a keen business sense and a clever, quick mind.
With ten thousand in hand, and having decided to reward himself, what was the harm in indulging and eating and drinking to his heart's content? Who knew what the food at the Loyalist Academy would be like.
He just hoped it wasn't 'corpse starch.' If the Imperium's most elite warriors were fed that stuff, the bureaucrats in the Ministry of Internal Affairs would be truly inhumane.
"Sir, this is the menu, please take a look," the girl handed Horatio an exquisite, hand-embroidered notebook.
The cover featured cute food illustrations drawn by the girl herself. Inside, each dish had real, visible pictures, and due to excellent lighting, every dish looked glistening with oil, tempting, and generously portioned.
Compared to the various monstrosities outside, the dishes here looked incredibly familiar.
The restaurant primarily served fast-food stir-fries, but also had pre-simmered broths, and fried rice and noodles that combined both rice and dishes. The food was served quickly, had strong flavors, and suited the tastes of the busy Middle Hive office workers and Starport laborers in the Vegas District.
As Horatio browsed the menu, the smiling girl was also secretly observing and sizing up the handsome and refined young customer before her.
[Is this attire from an Upper Hive resident of the Vegas District? But how could an Upper Hive resident come here? He must just be a local resident, but so well-dressed, it's truly rare.]
Horatio, who had skipped two meals, was completely focused on the menu and didn't notice the girl's gaze scanning him up and down. Combining this with his memory of the original body's prices, he was surprised.
[Chili Stir-fried Grox Slices, only 87 credits per serving?]
Although it seemed expensive, compared to other places on the planet, this price was quite cheap.
The damned Guild Alliance Government had imposed a hefty 'tithe' and a 'survival necessity fee' exceeding 25% of one's salary, meaning forty percent of personal income had to be paid in various taxes.
The latter was a new trick thought up by the Guild Alliance.
It was a type of tax, legally mandated and enforced by planetary law.
From its function, this was not unreasonable.
Because the operation of a Hive City required the simultaneous operation of many guilds for things like purified water, air, energy, and cadavers. Essential resources for survival in the public domain, such as water, electricity, and air purification, could only be maintained and reproduced by collecting corresponding fees.
However, the controversy mainly concerned the rules for collecting fees, as due to well-known power issues, the elites residing in the Upper Hive and spire districts were exempt from payment. The shrewd Guild Alliance also knew that the Lower Hive, being a completely lawless area, could not be exploited for value.
Thus, the cost collection for the Upper Hive, spire, and Lower Hive ultimately fell on the middle layers. Even though their population was the largest in the entire Hive City, in addition to the high explicit fees distributed among each payer, it also significantly affected the rise in prices, becoming an invisible, implicit cost.
Now, ever since the survival necessity fees had been repeatedly increased, this mountain of exploitation had gradually squeezed out the previously tolerable living space, pushing more and more unfortunate people to the brink of the abyss.
For them, the meaning of life now only existed in the endless, dark cycle of "amass wealth - pay - amass wealth" day after day.
"One chili stir-fried meat, please, Miss." Horatio's fingertip slid across the menu.
According to official Imperial novels, the Warhammer 40K universe indeed has Chinese and Japanese names. For example, Captain Chen in the Gothic Fleet series 'Wolf Pack,' and Captain Kinoshita in the Fire Dawn series 'Son of Vengeance,' etc.