Chapter 107: A Day in the Life of Two New Recruits

“Hurry up! Run faster! With those scrawny arms and legs, how do you expect to fight properly?”

On the grasslands outside the city of Nelle, Feng Fan held a large megaphone, shouting at Anton von Korslode, who was sprinting ahead.

For some reason, Feng Fan always felt that Anton von Korslode was a natural-born tank driver. It was a strange intuition that Feng Fan could not explain.

“All right, Instructor! But I have a question!”

Anton von Korslode, panting heavily after running for three hours straight, called out to Feng Fan as he pushed himself forward.

“What’s your question?”

Feng Fan approached him casually, looking at the exhausted Anton with complete indifference. After all, the gene seed had been implanted; Anton’s vitality was now extremely robust. There was no need to worry about him collapsing from training.

“Sir, why did Aggar skip training and go straight to surgery?”

Anton asked while running, confused as to why he had to train before undergoing all the Astartes procedures, whereas Aggar didn’t need any training at all before completing all the surgeries.

“Aggar? That kid from the second regiment? He’s been on the battlefield. Have you?”

Feng Fan smiled and replied. Aggar had combat experience and had even earned merits. How could a puny noble like Anton compare?

Besides, Aggar wasn’t completely untrained. He was currently being rotated between Hu Jin, the First Engineer Company, and the tech specialists. Hu Jin was testing the growth of Aggar’s various organs, while the engineers and techs were studying the characteristics of the “Stellar Transcenders” gene seed.

Moreover, Aggar hadn’t finished all his surgeries; only the nineteen standard Astartes procedures were completed. The remaining original Astartes surgeries could only proceed after the engineers and techs gathered full data on Aggar’s body.

Right now, Aggar was still enduring Hu Jin’s daily beatings, barely surviving on the “Astartes Happy Porridge.”

Previously, Wang Ming had approached the Emperor once, hoping to obtain the design blueprint for transgenic corn to see if he could turn a Transcender into a genetically modified corn variant. The Emperor did provide the blueprint, but when Wang Ming showed it to Minerva, the entire AI nearly crashed—her CPUs nearly smoked. She couldn’t comprehend the design intended for the Transcender guards.

“Biological alchemy” was beyond Minerva’s understanding. She grasped only a tiny fraction of the genetic engineering involved—less than one percent—mostly related to human genes. It was like someone unfamiliar with biology seeing a DNA double helix diagram; they knew the name but not the principles or composition.

“Honestly, instead of transforming them biologically, I’d rather find a way to enhance them mechanically. I really can’t grasp this knowledge.”

Minerva had said this to Wang Ming while nearly frying her CPUs.

In the end, Wang Ming’s Transcender Guard project was an undeniable failure. After confirming the failure, the Emperor’s voice echoed in Wang Ming’s mind.

“If making the Guard were that easy, why would I hand over your precious gene seeds?”

Hearing this, Wang Ming became certain the system had been tampered with by the Emperor. But that didn’t matter; after all, the Transcenders were the Emperor’s demon army.

Back to the present, Anton von Korslode was still running joyfully across the lush grassland. Why? Because behind him, Feng Fan wielded an electric baton, chasing him relentlessly. If Anton stopped even for a second, the baton would swiftly zap his backside.

In earlier training, Feng Fan discovered the baton’s usefulness. Since Anton’s gene seed made him resilient, Feng Fan could zap him freely—it only caused pain, no injury.

“Beep beep beep...”

Just as Feng Fan was enthusiastically zapping Anton, his watch beeped.

“All right, all right, enough. Time to eat!”

Feng Fan put away the baton and led Anton back to the training camp. Calling it a camp was generous—it was just a battle motorcycle and two sleeping bags.

From the motorcycle’s cargo bed, Feng Fan pulled out two large lunchboxes, each about the size of a basin, handing one to Anton before opening his own.

Feng Fan’s lunchbox was richly filled with large chunks of grilled Gorok meat and gleaming white rice, making one’s mouth water. Anton’s box also contained plenty of rice and chunks of grilled Gorok, though it paled in comparison to Feng Fan’s in terms of presentation.

“Eat quickly, finish everything. No wasting. This is very important for your upcoming surgery.”

Feng Fan said as he began eating heartily. Anton obediently followed suit.

“All done? Let’s continue.”

Feng Fan playfully kicked Anton’s backside, who was lying on the ground digesting.

“Wait, I feel like my stomach is about to burst.”

Anton was stuffed and immobile. For a mortal frame, the Astartes-sized meal was simply too much.

“Fine, digest a bit. Meanwhile, memorize this.”

Feng Fan tossed Anton a copy of the Imperial Creed, instructing him to recite it during digestion to strengthen his faith.

“Yes, sir.”

Anton’s memorization lasted until nightfall. Gazing up at the stars, both men fell into deep thought.

“Sir, can we really wipe out all mankind’s enemies?”

Anton lay on the grass, staring at the twinkling stars, suddenly asking this question.

“Why do you ask that, boy?”

Feng Fan lay beside him, puzzled. Such a question seemed out of place for a noble child.

“Sir, once my father took me to a starport. I saw the vast universe. The endless darkness suffocated me—I felt like the void would swallow me whole.”

Anton shared the shadow of his childhood.

“Child, I’ve taught you a way to never fear the depths of space.”

Feng Fan looked at Anton earnestly. His firm tone inspired immediate trust.

Anton’s eyes sparkled with hope, waiting intently for the method.

“You simply haven’t trained enough. From tomorrow, your training volume doubles. You’re too weak, lacking any power. But when you grow strong, you’ll understand what it means to have all human enemies turned to ash beneath the loyal blast rifle.”

Feng Fan spoke gently to the eager Anton. Hearing such harsh words in such a soft voice caught Anton off guard.

“All right, go to sleep. Training doubles tomorrow.”

Feng Fan patted the stunned Anton, pulled his sleeping bag close, and slipped inside, falling asleep instantly. Anton stayed awake, staring at the vast grassland. Thinking of tomorrow’s training, his thighs and backside ached faintly.

Clutching complicated feelings, Anton slowly entered his sleeping bag and eventually fell asleep. In his dreams, he saw Feng Fan chasing him with the electric baton, running all the way from Nelle to Dinaenli. Anton was utterly exhausted.

Though night had fallen on the Kaga continent of Batko II, the starport orbiting above remained busy. Numerous “Stellar Transcender” auxiliary troops hauled building materials through the starport to the city of Dinaenli below. These materials would become the foundation of factories on Batko II.

Aboard the Imperial Truth, corridors and rooms bustled with Transcenders and crew busily performing their duties.

In the B203 warehouse on the lower deck, Hu Jin and Aggar trained in a makeshift ring built by the Transcenders.

Calling it combat training was generous—it was simply Hu Jin and Aggar sparring, surrounded by a crowd of Transcenders and crew watching.

“I bet a bottle of ‘Happy’ soda on Hu Jin winning.”

Sitting on a small stool beneath the ring, Fourth Regiment Commander Xu Feng said to Wang Xiao.

“I bet a bottle of ‘Happy’ soda on Aggar. I think that kid can beat Old Hu. They’ve already fought to a draw before. I’m rooting for the kid.”

Wang Xiao smiled and replied.

“Baynes, who do you think will win?”

Wang Xiao turned to look at Rozes Baynes behind him, wanting to hear the opinion of the former “Midnight Lord.” Compared to the Transcenders, Baynes was more professional.

“I think Hu Jin has a high chance of winning. As a veteran, his combat experience surpasses Aggar’s. But that kid isn’t bad either. Don’t take it too seriously. The main goal is to observe Aggar’s condition after the original Astartes surgeries.”

Rozes Baynes smiled and gave an objective analysis, reminding Wang Xiao and Xu Feng not to get too excited.

“You two can bet all you want, but I’ll be the one buying the soda.”

Suddenly, Minerva’s hologram appeared above Wang Xiao’s head, looking down at Wang Xiao and Xu Feng.

The two men awkwardly smiled at the sudden appearance of the “Imperial Truth’s” “old mother,” Minerva.

“I bet two bottles of ‘Happy’ soda on Hu Jin. His physical condition and battle experience surpass Aggar. I bet on him.”

Minerva placed her hands on her hips and stared at the fighters, addressing Wang Xiao and Xu Feng.

“The AI’s right. Data analysis shows the strength gap, but we must factor in error margins.”

Ohm Galradon, the tech specialist accompanying the Stellar Transcenders, sipped a bottle of “Happy” soda and spoke seriously to Minerva’s hologram.

“Ar-ti-fi-cial In-te-lli-gence! How many times do I have to say it? Artificial intelligence! Don’t call me ‘abomination intelligence’!”

Minerva shouted, using a warehouse megaphone to create a surround sound effect. The deafening blast tortured everyone’s ears.

“Okay, abomination intelligence, no problem, abomination intelligence.”

Ohm Galradon nonchalantly removed his ears and replied to Minerva.

“Where’s Captain Wang Ming?! Give me control of a combat robot! I want to kill him!”

Minerva, like a flustered kitten, playfully punched and kicked Ohm Galradon. But as a hologram, her fists passed through him harmlessly. Ohm Galradon sipped his soda unfazed.

Minerva’s hologram glared angrily at Ohm Galradon, her CPU nearly exploding.

Determined, Minerva vowed to confiscate all the toasters in the cafeteria next time Ohm Galradon went there.

“All right, all right, stop it. Hu Jin and Aggar are starting.”

Wang Xiao looked at the two troublemakers with helplessness. Minerva and the tech specialist’s relationship had never been good.

The tech specialist always called the two artificial intelligences on the Imperial Truth “abomination intelligence.” Captain Jiang Tao paid no mind, ignoring him entirely.

Minerva wasn’t so forgiving. After complaining to Wang Ming several times without result, she began petty reprisals against the tech specialist—giving him less Gorok meat at meals, answering his questions about the Imperial Truth with deliberate slowness.

Wang Ming observed all this, finding Minerva’s mischievousness more like childish pranks. He could only shake his head and smile.