Clank, Clunk.
The sounds of hydraulic machinery at work came from a figure whose body was 80% covered in complex mechanical devices of all shapes and colors. Everything from its arms and torso to its feet, and even its eyes and mouth, were fitted with goggles and respiratory filtration units.
The figure's backpack sported two massive, extendable hydraulic power arms: one equipped with a heavy-duty cutting saw, the other a crane arm, both operated by a single control handle.
Judging by the patches of green skin visible beneath the machinery, this was an Ork. And seeing the sheer amount of high-tech gear strapped to it—gear that even a regular Mekboy wouldn't have access to—it was clear who this was.
This was a Big Mek (Chief Engineer)—a position countless Warbosses dreamed of recruiting and innumerable Mekboyz dreamed of becoming.
The existence of such a special Ork signified an endless supply of terrifying war machines, extremely high status in Ork society, and unlimited access to scrap. No Mekboy could resist a mountain of scrap metal and junk.
This high-tech Ork was Kenmei Isayama. Unlike his stripped-down state in his private quarters, he had now assembled a suit of mechanical armor using materials left behind by the previous (deceased) Big Mek and items from his host body's predecessor. He looked incredibly imposing.
Every simulation gave Kenmei a buffer period to adapt to his new body and identity before thrusting him into combat.
In his previous simulation as a Flesh Hound, he had to kill all the other Flesh Hounds under his command in Khorne's domain before sensing the summons of the Chaos Legion and descending into reality.
"It really is just a pile of junk."
Kenmei sighed as he looked at the metal behemoth before him.
He was currently in the warship's main engine room.
The air here was stiflingly hot and murky. Fortunately, his mechanical suit had a cooling system, and his respirator filtered out harmful gases—most importantly for Kenmei, the smell.
Orks didn't have a habit of hygiene—no, the concept didn't even exist for them. The smell in the air was truly something else.
The massive machine in front of him, topped with an Imperial Aquila emblem, chugged like an old tractor—Thump, thump, thump. This fully operational monstrosity was the key to traversing the Warp: the Warp Engine, the heart of the warship [World Killa].
He had to admit, the Imperium's "Gellar Field" technology was impressive—a protective field that shielded the ship during Warp travel.
Operating at high power caused every component to vibrate violently. The heat was intense. Just from a glance, Kenmei could see over a thousand screws shaking loose, and black smoke puffed rhythmically from the gaps between parts. It felt like the whole thing could fall apart at any second.
According to the memories Kenmei accessed from this body, the previous Big Mek had dug this thing out of a sunken Imperial fleet like buried treasure.
When he dug it out, there was an unexploded shell lodged in the engine casing. Why it didn't explode was a mystery. And to this day, that bomb still hadn't gone off; it sat there comfortably, fused with the engine thanks to the miraculous tinkering of the previous Big Mek.
The model and age were ancient. To the Imperial Guard, it was probably scrap. To the Orks, it had just finished its break-in period.
Although Kenmei looked like an Ork on the outside, his mind was still modern. It was hard for him to accept the Orks' "African bush mechanic" mentality.
Being on this ship felt like sitting on a powder keg waiting to explode. Considering the safety hazards, this was the first place Kenmei came to inspect after acquiring this body.
The safe operation of this thing was paramount. Kenmei didn't want to lose this ship. Floating in the Warp in just his flesh body was suicide. The Warp is a bizarre, dark parallel dimension where physical laws don't exist, formed entirely by the emotions and psychic energy of sentient beings in the material universe.
Leaving aside his own death, the simulation would end before he earned any Points.
Checking the machine's status was priority one. Currently, the machine looked "healthy." Kenmei could see a thick, green energy covering the machinery—the WAAAGH! Field residue left by the previous Big Mek, still functioning.
Just touching the machine caused the green energy within it to intertwine and merge with the green energy surging from Kenmei's body.
Knowledge about the machine flooded Kenmei's mind—a marvelous sensation of innate understanding. He even felt an urge to shout "WAAAGH!", a deep emotional resonance.
This WAAAGH! Field was essentially power generated by psychic resonance. The stronger the Ork, the stronger the cohesion they produced, as their charisma could rally vast numbers of Ork Boyz to WAAAGH!!! together.
In Kenmei's world terms, it was like the residual Cursed Energy left by a powerful Sorcerer. If not exorcised, it could easily form a curse. But here, it didn't have such negative effects.
Just as Kenmei relaxed, a nearby pipe burst, blasting his face with superheated steam.
"Dammit!"
Fortunately, Ork skin is tough and thick. Fully armored and protected by the WAAAGH! Field, Kenmei just wiped his face.
"Jumpy! Don't touch anything, or I'll smash your head in!"
The words flew out of Kenmei's mouth automatically. Clearly, this body had developed conditioned reflexes.
At Kenmei's roar, a creature with a flat bald head and pointed ears—looking much like a green goblin—hid its ears in fear and started bowing profusely.
Jumpy was a Gretchin (or Grot). In Ork society, Gretchin are the cannon fodder of cannon fodder, the lowest of the low. Any Ork Boy can decide a Grot's life or death on a whim.
Of course, this didn't apply to the Mekboy's personal Oiler Grots. These special Gretchin were the smartest of their kind, playing a crucial role in maintaining Ork weaponry and equipment.
"Scram."
Seeing Jumpy's pitiful state, Kenmei kicked him in the butt. Hearing the order to leave, Jumpy looked relieved and literally scrambled away, heading for Kenmei's workshop.
Compared to staying here, Jumpy preferred hanging out in his master's scrap pile.
Jumpy was the same Grot who had tried to wake Kenmei up earlier and gotten punched into the wall for his trouble.
Although Jumpy was an elite among Grots, he was strictly Kenmei's private property. If Kenmei killed him, no one would bat an eye.
"Alright. The most worrying thing has been checked."
"Time to go to the banquet?"
Thinking of the traditional delicacies (dark cuisine) common at Ork feasts, Kenmei shuddered.
He really didn't want to go.