"May your souls return to the Golden Throne—though I suspect nothing good happens even if you do make it back."
After dealing with the locals, Yuki finally began to seriously contemplate his next move. If he merely expanded his influence to prepare for the Swarm's arrival, he would be no different from a Genestealer Cult.
For Yuki, controlling factories in the Underhive, establishing his own enterprise, and using that as a springboard to climb into the upper echelons of society was a far superior choice. Moreover, since he didn't possess the distinctive alien anatomy of a Genestealer, infiltrating the high-born circles wouldn't be difficult.
However, he would have to face the entire planetary defense force, the noble houses seasoned in political warfare, the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Sisters of Battle, the Arbites, the Munitorum, and potentially even the Inquisition. No matter how he looked at it, he needed to increase his personal strength.
Furthermore, when he had first been resurrected, his mind had been hazy. Thinking back now, he wondered if he had been a bit hasty in choosing to betray humanity so directly. This wasn't some fictional world anymore; it was reality. This internal shift tormented him, and now was no exception. He even felt a sense of confusion: What kind of person was I before all this?
"My love, come look at this!"
Yuno was like a child who had just built a massive sandcastle, triumphantly showing off her masterpiece to Yuki. It was a giant cocoon, resembling an incubation chamber.
"This is my simplified culture vat. As long as there is enough biomass, you can create any creature you desire."
"Even things other than Tyranids?"
"'Tyranid' is a concept. Any creature, as long as it is connected to my consciousness network, is Tyranid. You are the same."
Yuki nodded thoughtfully. Yuno let out a yawn, saying sleepily, "Alright, I'm a bit tired. Let me sleep for a few days. You go ahead and mess around with whatever you like."
She crawled into a slightly smaller culture vat nearby, and soon all was silent. Yuki knew the body he saw was something Yuno had manifested temporarily; whether her true form even existed in the physical world was a mystery. He surmised that as a collective consciousness of the Swarm, Yuno would never truly die as long as a single Tyranid remained alive.
"Well... I wonder if this culture vat can make corpse-starch?"
Twenty minutes later, Yuki obtained thirty kilograms of high-quality corpse-starch. The vat's working principle was quintessentially Tyranid: it first reduced raw materials into biomass—a thick liquid rich in organic matter and various elements. Then, much like in a video game, this liquid could be molded into various objects. Furthermore, he could directly tap into the Hive Mind's memory; anything the Swarm had ever decomposed, he could replicate.
Corpse-starch was among the simplest of creations.
"Hmm, this really is like playing an RPG."
Yuki headed to the black market of the district, carrying his newly manufactured corpse-starch. He was received by a young girl. She had three eyes, yet Yuki sensed no trace of psychic power from her.
Yuki explained his intent. The girl said little; she took the corpse-starch and scraped a bit off with her finger. Such bulk items were usually products of small workshops, and the quality was often hit-or-miss. However, this batch seemed different.
"Where did you get this? You didn't steal it from an Arbites warehouse, did you?"
"I made it myself. I'm planning to start a business here and make some friends."
"What friends have you made so far?"
"I've already paid my respects to Raziel."
"You know the rules, then. We can't guarantee your information stays secret."
"I understand."
Yuki didn't linger. He received his payment and turned to leave. The planet used its own local currency; half a kilogram of corpse-starch was worth two hundred credits, though currency was largely useless here. In the vast majority of transactions, bartering remained the most reliable method.
He walked through the chaotic streets of the residential area. People without work lay on the sidelines, watching him with guarded eyes. Are these guys afraid I'm going to eat them? Yuki mused.
He continued walking, and the person tailing him followed. When Yuki accelerated, they accelerated; when he slowed, they slowed. When Yuki turned around, they vanished into the crowd. Unless one was an idiot, it was impossible not to notice.
Yuki turned into an alley, and the stalker quickly followed. It was just a small-time thug, an ordinary Underhiver willing to take a gamble for a bit of profit.
Ade, one of Raziel's confidants, hid nearby, watching the alley. His enforcers were also in the vicinity. Based on the observations so far, that man was definitely no ordinary figure.
Yuki emerged. He casually wiped his cuffs. That suit was certainly expensive; Ade thought he could strip the clothes off him and sell them for a good price.
The man walked away, but the subordinate following him never reappeared. Sensing something was wrong, Ade immediately led his men over. They found a twisted corpse lying in the alley. Every bone in the body had been shattered, and the torso was twisted in an unnatural pose. Even these men, accustomed to disciplinary executions, felt a wave of discomfort.
Dammit, were we spotted?
Ade cursed inwardly. Just then, steady footsteps appeared behind them, stopping at the mouth of the alley.
"Gentlemen, you look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?"
"Friend Yuki! We saw each other at Raziel's place!"
Yuki narrowed his eyes. After identifying them, he broke into a smile. "Oh! Right! What are you all looking at? Whoa! Who did this? That's terrifying."
Ade thought to himself, This guy doesn't look like a fool; he must be testing us.
He smiled and said, "It's just a small accident. People die every second in the Underhive. You should be used to it by now."
"How did you know I don't live in the Underhive?"
"How could someone with your refined features and extraordinary presence possibly come from the Underhive? If any family were lucky enough to have such a child, they'd be taken away instantly."
"Taken away for what?"
"Oh? You're interested? Would you do me the honor of letting me host you in a cleaner place?"
Yuki's opinion of this rough-looking man improved slightly. After all, based on appearance alone, he looked exactly like the type of NPC who exists only to cause trouble.
"Sure."
"Come, come, Mr. Yuki. This way."
As he spoke, Ade signaled his subordinates to toss the unfortunate soul's body into a prominent spot on the street so the recovery servitors could deal with it quickly.
Yuki followed Ade to a small underground teahouse. It was slightly cleaner inside, with dim lights hanging from the ceiling. Ade invited Yuki to sit and pulled the manager aside, whispering, "You didn't see anything today, got it?"
"Understood."
Subsequently, he called off all his men in ambush. For some reason, even though Yuki was alone, Ade felt an intense sense of threat from him.
"So then, tell me about the art of survival in the Underhive."
"The most important rule, Mr. Yuki," Ade said, "is to never treat people like people."