The screech of metal tore at the ears. Giant gears the size of high-rises groaned as they turned, lowering a solid-metal platform into the planet's depths—the size of several football fields.
This enormous lift, able to transport more than two thousand people at a time, dozens of tanks, and thousands of tons of cargo, was a rough, insane, yet majestic creation of the Mechanicus.
The passengers split into two groups. On one side—several hundred workers heading into the Underhive. They huddled quietly in a corner, and Li Qingyu stood among them. On the other—thousands of convicts in shackles, surrounded by enforcers. They sobbed as if their lives were already over.
Li Qingyu shook his head and lit a cigarette. A man beside him smirked—either at himself or trying to draw his neighbor into conversation.
"Bet you half these poor bastards won't live a day?"
"Who are you trying to kid?" Li Qingyu scoffed. "If a tenth survive, I'll believe the Underhive is full of saints and angels."
The stranger looked surprised, but asked:
"Why?"
Li Qingyu jabbed his cigarette butt toward the convicts.
"The moment they step off, they'll be stripped bare. Ten percent die in the fighting."
"Over the next five days, the local gangs will rob them, beat them, use them for fun. Minus thirty percent."
"Then ten days of hunger, cold, and dirty water. Another minus thirty."
"The rest will be taken for experiments, fighters, slaves. Another minus thirty. That's it—the ledger's closed."
"Wait—that's a hundred percent?" the man blurted.
"Heh-heh. Nobody survives," the mercenary said with a grin.
The man laughed.
"Interesting perspective. I'm Reynolds, a representative of the Water Purification Guild in the Underhive."
Li Qingyu pulled out his pack and offered a cigarette.
"Scavenger Li Qingyu. Find it, fix it, kill it—any whim for your money."
Reynolds smiled, looking him over. His gaze slid to the weapon on Li's back.
Clack-clack-clack!...
"The Great Lift is arriving at Level Zero. The Machine Spirit is stable. Prepare to disembark. Praise the Emperor."
The loudspeaker's voice intensified the convicts' wailing.
Reynolds watched Li Qingyu, astonished by his calm.
After thinking a bit, he said:
"My workers went on a binge at a brothel on the edge of the safe zone, and the local Mommy and her thugs robbed them. If you take a pipe from the Water Purification Guild and break their legs, I'll pay well."
Ding! Contact "Reynolds" unlocked!
Li Qingyu raised an eyebrow. A contact—off a single conversation?
"Give details."
"Mommy opened a red-light district right on the border of the safe zone. My guys go there a lot. She ordered her people to rob them. That's a hit to my reputation—I have to answer."
"Why specifically a Guild pipe?" Li Qingyu asked.
"So they know who sent greetings. The pipe has a stamp. Hit hard enough and the imprint stays. As a lesson."
"And pay?"
"A hundred water purification tablets."
Li Qingyu whistled. For upper-level officials it was nothing, but down below aquatabs were hard currency. They purified even sewage slurry, disinfected it. You could pay with them anywhere.
"Filters?" he asked.
"I'll throw in ten," Reynolds replied.
A great deal. In his mind, Li Qingyu hit "accept."
Ding! Quest accepted.
Reynolds of the Water Purification Guild wants you to restore justice.
Objective: Break Mommy's legs with a pipe (0/1). Break her bouncers' legs (0/5).
Reward: Tablets ×100, filters ×10, disposition with Reynolds: Lv.0 → Lv.1.
Li Qingyu bared his teeth.
"Deal. I'll drop by when I can."
"If you do it clean, there'll be more work," the guildman noted.
The platform shuddered—the bottom.
The hermetic gates opened, revealing thousands of Underhive eyes. They stared at the convicts like fresh meat.
Li Qingyu dissolved into the stream of workers, letting his cloak fall open to show the plumbing-pipe shotgun. That was enough to kill any idiot's urge to come closer.
The bailiffs unshackled the convicts and drove them out with batons. The wretches begged to be returned to the Mid-Hive, promised to pay their debts, but got only electro-baton strikes in reply. Floodlights lit the whole hall.
When the lift began crawling upward again, empty, the Underhive rats charged the prey with a roar. The hunt began. Within minutes, a thousand people were torn to pieces.
Li Qingyu shook his head and walked into the dark pipes.
"Safe zone"... A joke. Safe only for machines and staff—so blood wouldn't offend the Machine Spirit.
Here you could kill as long as the bodies were under a hundred thousand. Such was Warhammer 40,000.
...
Back in the Hideout, Li Qingyu connected the hotplate to power—a gift from Lieutenant Rudolfson—and tossed a few potatoes on it.
Ding! Hideout kitchen: Lv.0 → Lv.1.
The hotplate counted as a base upgrade item. Thanks, Lieutenant!
Then he sat at the workbench, clamped the PDF semi-auto rifle in a vise, and began stripping it down.
Chempig hunting was coming—the weapon had to be perfect.
A couple minutes later, the table was covered in parts. The barrel gleamed.
The rifle was nearly new, with a hundred rounds through it, perfectly oiled. Li Qingyu removed the old lubricant, applied sacred oil, and reassembled the weapon.
"All right, sweetheart—don't fail me," he whispered, brushing his lips to the barrel.
After making peace with the Machine Spirit, he moved on to the ammo. He had a hundred armor-piercing rounds and six hundred standard Class 3. He loaded one magazine entirely with AP, two with standard rounds. The rest he stuffed into his pouches.
Pulling on his PDF flak vest and helmet, he gave himself a once-over. Not bad kit for a small war.
Time to go do a black-market job.