---o---
As for fighting Chaos, Zhou Ye had no problem with it.
He hoped one or two nameless Greater Daemons might show up. If they weren't too strong, he could capture them and see what would happen if he stuffed them into his converter.
These purely empyrean beings were bound to be a much better power source than gene-seeds, a prospect that greatly interested him.
So, when it came to repairing vehicles and the like, he was more than willing.
After a brief negotiation, Zhou Ye reached an agreement with the planetary government. Although they were still a bit suspicious that he might have offed the Tech-Priests originally stationed here, he was the only cogboy around, so they had to make do.
They had to take what they could get. Besides, he knew the codes and had the signet. It was more likely he had genuinely encountered the missing priests. After all, if he really had killed them, and that thing behind him were to go haywire…
Half their hive city would be blown to smithereens. A Kastelan Robot's combat power exceeded that of a typical Astartes, boasting firepower comparable to a Terminator and an incredibly resilient defensive shield.
There were recorded instances where a Tech-Priest had fallen in battle, and his loyal Kastelan Robot continued to execute his last orders until its power core was completely depleted.
Of course, that was the standard model they knew of. Zhou Ye's heavily modified version was even more powerful than a standard Castraferrum Dreadnought, with a terrifyingly longer operational time.
Just as the Planetary Governor was leaving, satisfied, and before Zhou Ye could even take a step, he found himself surrounded by a circle of muscular giants. A single drop of cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
Thank goodness he wasn't a real cogboy, or he'd be leaking oil right now.
"Are there more of these jetbikes?"
Although he could feel the tremor of excitement in their hearts, Zhou Ye refrained from activating his Authority. It was one thing to use it on ordinary people, but it was best not to casually pry into the minds of Psykers and Astartes. Besides, when dealing with the White Scars, it took no effort to know what they wanted.
"She's so beautiful… A year. It's been a whole year since I've…"
Before Zhou Ye could say anything, a White Scars can was caressing his motorcycle like a degenerate.
"…"
The air fell silent. While Zhou Ye had been prepared for the sheer absurdity of Warhammer, this left him speechless. He shot a look at the officer-like White Scar before him, an expression that clearly said, "Are all you White Scars this fucking weird?"
Even through the warrior's visor, the superhuman senses of the Astartes allowed him to perfectly understand the mountain of meaning conveyed in that single glance.
"Novitiate, watch your conduct! I am Qin Meng of the White Scars Third Company, a member of the Eagle Brotherhood."
"A pleasure. So, you want my motorcycle?"
Gulp…
The sound of swallowing was audible as a dozen White Scar cans nodded in unison.
This jetbike was stronger, faster, and more powerful than their original bikes. No White Scar could possibly refuse it.
You can't test a White Scar with something like this. How could they possibly resist?
"I have acquired a special STC. I can equip each of you with a new bike. However, you will need to provide the materials. Here is the list…"
He casually handed the list of materials to the White Scars. The required amount was fifty times what was actually needed.
A mere fifty-fold profit. Zhou Ye felt he was being incredibly charitable. After all, in his discussion with the Planetary Governor, he had demanded a baseline reward a hundred times the cost.
"No problem. Leave it to us."
Looking at the dense list of materials, Qin Meng felt this Tech-Priest was remarkably conscientious. Compared to the other skinflint cogboys he'd met, this one was just too good, too kind-hearted.
Without another word, he turned and left, leaving a bewildered Zhou Ye in his wake.
"It seems I'm still not black-hearted enough. Next time, I'll start the bidding at a thousand-fold markup. This Imperium is such a shithole. And no wonder everyone says the cogboys are loaded. Tsk, tsk, tsk…"
Zhou Ye thought he had been greedy, but it was now clear that in this galactic cesspool, he was still far too benevolent.
"Sage, which Forge World do you hail from?"
"I have been excommunicated from my Forge World."
"Ah?"
Seeing Zhou Ye's apparently downcast expression, Qin Meng was confused.
Frankly, every cogboy he had ever met was practically devoid of emotion, but the one before him seemed far too expressive.
"My Forge World venerates the Omnissiah. They believe that augmenting oneself with more machinery is the truest way to worship Him. But I… I did not wish to transform myself in such a way."
As he spoke, Zhou Ye removed his mask, revealing the face of a middle-aged man he had temporarily crafted for himself.
"Do not trouble yourself over it. You will become a great sage."
Seeing the completely un-augmented face beneath the mask, Qin Meng removed his own helmet, revealing the features of an Asian man. As for Zhou Ye's origins, he decided not to press the matter further. As long as he wasn't a heretic, it wasn't a problem.
This was, of course, a backstory Zhou Ye had prepared long ago. The galaxy was big enough, and enough of a shithole, that all sorts of worlds existed.
With that settled, Qin Meng said no more.
The two soon left the plaza and arrived at the local vehicle depot, where Zhou Ye couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.
No wonder they had been so quick to agree to his terms. Before him lay a junkyard of miscellaneous vehicles.
Leman Russes, Chimeras, and quite a number of them. The problem was, most were in a state of disrepair. It was obvious the local cogboys lacked the ability to maintain or repair them.
This planet was truly in the middle of nowhere. Less than a tenth of the vehicles were operational.
"Well then, let's get to work. Consider it a bonus for paying me so well."
Muttering to himself, Zhou Ye began his work. Looking at the heavily fortified hive, he knew war was coming. These Leman Russes and Chimeras were all vehicles the local garrison had brought with them when they retired here; many were already past their standard service life.
They were more suited for a reliquary than a battlefield, yet now they were being called upon to fight once more.
And with the Iron Warriors present, who knew if daemons would start appearing? He would have to stir the pot if he wanted to fish in troubled waters.
In that case, giving these machines a little upgrade was necessary. Zhou Ye placed a hand on a dilapidated Leman Russ. Its Machine Spirit was almost gone.
Excellent. He would instantly seize it, instantly convert it, and then use his multiple Authorities to forcibly write a weakened version of an AI—one that could respond to human commands without being so intelligent as to be deemed an Abominable Intelligence.
Zhou Ye was remarkably calm about his heretical actions. After all, if he remembered correctly, there were still plenty of Men of Iron from the age of the Great Rebellion, disguised as automata and living out their retirement within the Adeptus Mechanicus.