This is the bonus chapter for reaching 250 Powerstones.
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Sparks exploded.
Even with his pain perception set to 30%, the player let out a scream, stumbling and face-planting into the dirt. A scorched black mark appeared on his back, the jumpsuit torn open to reveal inflamed, red skin underneath.
"Ah, fuck," the player groaned in pain in the regional channel. "It still hurts this much at 30%?!"
"Was this whip fucking blessed by Khorne?!"
"Speak! Did you steal the ore?!"
[Clumsy Hands Spare Me] delivered an Oscar-worthy performance this time. He looked deathly pale and stammered in terror:
"M-m-m-my Lord... we-we wouldn't dare... we get whipped every day... we don't even get enough to eat... where would we find the strength to steal ore..."
The overseer tossed him aside and grabbed a few other players at random to search them.
Naturally, he found absolutely nothing.
"Motherfucker..." The one-eyed overseer cursed. He turned to the bald man. "You see? Nothing."
The bald man frowned. "Then what's going on? Could it be the suppliers..."
The one-eyed overseer's eye lit up. "It's definitely those greedy merchants! Damn it, I bet their asses have been violated by Slaanesh!"
"They actually dared to sell us low-quality ore! Come on, let's go settle the score with them!"
The two men stormed off, cursing up a storm.
The players exchanged glances, and then the regional channel erupted into hysterical laughter.
[Soul of Cadia]: "Hahahaha! They shifted the blame to the suppliers!"
[Did the White Scars Speed Today?]: "'Asses violated by Slaanesh'! What a wonderfully Warhammer way to insult someone!"
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]: "So the ore we stole was written off as a quality-control issue? Brilliant!"
[Fugitive Cogboy of the Mechanicus]: "Ore quality inherently fluctuates. Since the overseers cannot prove theft, it's only natural they point the finger at the supply chain."
"I recommend continuing this operation, but we must monitor the frequency to avoid triggering a comprehensive inspection."
[Eternally Loyal to the Emperor]: "Brothers, keep a low profile. Keep a low profile. We make our fortunes in silence."
–
Afterwards, during a short break, Zeke was squatting in the rest area when he felt someone approaching.
He looked up to see a young NPC worker.
This person's jumpsuit was relatively clean. Though fatigue was written on his face, his eyes weren't entirely dead like the other workers.
He crouched next to Zeke and lowered his voice, "Brother, are you new here?"
Zeke's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained a calm expression. He answered in Low Gothic with a local accent:
"Yeah, got dragged in a few days ago."
"How did you get caught?" the young man asked, his eyes sweeping across Zeke's face.
"Wandering around. No ID tags. Got nabbed in the Redblaze Wasteland," Zeke answered using his pre-rehearsed cover story. "They called it an 'illegal gathering,' but honestly, we're just a bunch of refugees."
The young man nodded, seeming unsurprised by the answer.
He was silent for a few seconds before asking:
"There seems to be... a lot of you? I heard they caught thousands this time."
Zeke's vigilance peaked. "I'm not sure. I woke up in a cage, and there were people everywhere."
"Oh." The young man didn't press further. Instead, he said seemingly casually, "This place... is not a good place to be. The overseers are brutal, the labor is heavy, and the food is garbage. A lot of people don't last half a year." He paused, lowering his voice even further: "But it's not like there are no opportunities. As long as... you find the right people."
With that, he patted Zeke on the shoulder, stood up, and casually walked away.
Zeke watched his retreating back, a slight frown forming.
There's something off about this NPC.
He was too proactive, and his questions felt like he was testing the waters.
In the regional channel, Schrödinger Bro was already asking: "Zeke, who was that guy just now? He didn't look like a normal worker."
"I don't know," Zeke replied. "But there's definitely something going on with him. He could be an informant for the overseers, or he could be... something else."
He didn't elaborate, but a theory was forming in his mind.
In the Warhammer universe, in an oppressively brutal refinery like this, there were always people unwilling to be consumables for the rest of their lives.
A resistance organization, an underground labor union, or even Chaos cultists... all of them were possibilities.
Could this young man be a scout for one of those organizations?
Zeke filed the thought away without mentioning it to the group. It wasn't the right time to make contact yet. They needed more capital first.
–
By evening, the shift-end whistle sounded like a choir of angels.
Dragging their exhausted bodies, the players lined up to receive their daily wages—another tube of nutrient paste and a pouch of water.
Then, they were herded back to the crowded, filthy communal sleeping quarters.
The moment the overseers left, the players sprang into action.
Following their pre-arranged procedure, the players who had stolen ore began passing it down the line. Those near the door pulled the ore from their inventories and handed it to the person next to them, who handed it further inside... like a relay baton.
Layer by layer, the ore concentrated toward the core area where Zeke, Tax Bro, and Schrödinger Bro were stationed.
Zeke had already taken out the Portable Matter Recycling Terminal. The hand-sized metal plate gleamed coldly in the dim light.
Piece after piece, the ore was absorbed and converted.
When the final piece of ore was passed down, Zeke activated the terminal.
The scanning beam flashed, and lines of data popped up on the screen.
[Standard energy matter detected... Estimated value: 43,187.5 Imperial Coins. Convert? (Processing Fee: 2,159.375 Coins)]
"Convert."
A faint glow flashed, and the pile of ore vanished.
Zeke's account balance jumped to: 41,028.125 Imperial Coins.
He immediately announced the number in the regional channel.
The channel went dead silent for three seconds.
Then, it exploded.
[Soul of Cadia]: "H...how much?"
"Forty-three thousand?!"
"I'm bad at math, someone tell me how much money that is!"
[Did the White Scars Speed Today?]: "Averaged out, everyone gets more than 8 Imperial Coins!"
"In one day! We stole this much in one day?!"
[I Want the Halo of Tranquility But I'm Broke]: "We're rich! We're fucking rich! I have 11.8 coins right now, plus 8 coins! I'll have almost 20!"
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]: "That's enough to buy a crude pistol! Even if it's just black powder..."
[Slaanesh Champion Candidate]: "I'm suddenly feeling like... being a Mine Rat is pretty great?"
[Papa Nurgle Loves Everyone]: "Accept this gift from the Grandfather... even if it was obtained through theft."
Zeke did some quick mental math, then spoke in the channel:
"A total of 4,961 brothers participated in the operation today. Everyone gets 8.2 Imperial Coins. Me, Tax Bro, and Schrödinger Bro will split the remainder evenly."
"After all, we were the ones who paid for the recycling terminal. Does anyone have any objections?"
A flood of "No objections," "It's only fair," and "Zeke is the GOAT" scrolled through the chat.
[Pay the Tithe Even if the World Ends]: "Wait, let me calculate... 8.2 coins, minus tomorrow's breathing tax of 0.3, leaves 7.9... If we save up for a few more days, everyone could buy a kinetic rifle!"
[Fugitive Cogboy of the Mechanicus]: "According to the store prices: Hunting Knife (5 coins), Crude Pistol (20 coins), Kinetic Rifle (60 coins), Basic Physique Enhancement (100 coins)."
"At our current efficiency rate, it will take an estimated 4 to 7 standard days to reach the critical threshold for militarization."
[Schrödinger's Loyalist]: "Why do I feel like... this slave life is actually getting pretty hopeful? Am I being PUA'd?"
[Don't Ask, I Finks It Works]: "I finks if we keep stealing like this, they'll find out sooner or later, right?"
[Eternally Loyal to the Emperor]: "They definitely will."
"But we steal for as long as we can. Our goal is to arm ourselves as much as possible before they realize what's happening."
He paused, his tone growing more serious:
"Also, there's something I need to tell everyone today."
"During the afternoon break, a younger-looking NPC worker actively approached me. He asked how I got caught, where I came from, stuff like that."
The channel quieted down.
[Soul of Cadia]: "Holy shit? Could it be... the resistance?"
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]: "It's possible! A place like this definitely has people who are fed up!"
[Eternally Loyal to the Emperor]: "I kept my guard up. I told him I was just a refugee who accidentally wandered into Consortium territory and got caught."
"He nodded, didn't ask much else, and left."
"But I felt... there's definitely something going on with him."
"Maybe he's testing the waters, or observing if we have the will to rebel."
Zeke watched the scrolling messages and continued:
"My intuition tells me that the day we break out of this hellhole isn't far off. Either we arm ourselves and fight our way out, or someone organizes a riot and we escape in the chaos."
"But until then..."
He smiled.
"We have to fleece the Aru Group for everything they've got! Fleece them bald! Fleece them until they're bankrupt!"
"Understood!!" The channel responded in unison.
Looking at the extra Imperial Coins in their accounts, the players were grinning like rats that had stolen a jar of oil.
Even though their bodies were still stuck in this hellish refinery, even though they'd probably get whipped again tomorrow, and even though the nutrient paste still tasted like Papa Nurgle's stew...
Hope was here.
Money could buy weapons. It could buy enhancements. It could buy freedom.
And what they excelled at most was saving money, leveling up, and then... breaking the game entirely.
[Soul of Cadia]: "For the Emperor! For the Imperial Coins!"
[Did the White Scars Speed Today?]: "For the day we pilot mechas!"
[Slaanesh Champion Candidate]: "For... uh, for a better gaming experience!"
[Papa Nurgle Loves Everyone]: "For accepting more of the Grandfather's gifts..."
[Eternally Loyal to the Emperor]: "Alright, get some rest, everyone. Brothers on watch, keep your eyes peeled."
"We continue tomorrow. Be the best miners, and the sneakiest Mine Rats."
The players logged out one by one.
Inside the rest area, thousands of bodies slumped in various sleeping postures.
In the distance, the refinery's furnaces continued their eternal roar, the molten metal rivers reflecting the unchanging backdrop of this steel hell.
But in the dim corners, the two players on watch kept their eyes wide open, vigilantly observing their surroundings.
Meanwhile, deep within the Warp.
Lucian basked in the exceptionally abundant emotional energy harvested today. The excitement, the anticipation, the secret joy, the thrill of pulling off a heist, the yearning for the future...
"Not bad. Not bad at all."
He stretched his energy body delightfully, looking at the additional 400,000+ units of energy deposited into the System.
"They managed to steal 40,000 coins' worth of ore just by being mine rats... These players really are something else."
"When they actually start rioting..."
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Next Goal = 400 Powerstones.