Name: Drochen Vahl

Occupation: Sergeant, 43rd Regiment of the former Saratov Chemical Dog Corps

Affiliation: The original subordinate has been withdrawn and is now in service with the Tantanian Ranger Regiment

Character Experience: Saratov is a terrible prison world, but it is also a dead world where nothing is born. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 infoUnfortunately, Deroghen is one of the prisoners who is being held in this world.

For what reason Drochen was thrown into this abominable world, he himself never mentioned. Why he left here to join the Chem Dog Army is unknown, but his colleagues don't care about that.

The long years in prison damaged his respiratory system, so much so that he had to wear his gas mask all day.

Like his peers who preferred to use chemical warfare agents, Drochen was a master at it. In order to achieve maximum damage, Drohin usually only uses his stolen chainsaw sword and a laser rifle from the Krieg Death Legion, and makes all kinds of terrifying explosives from his own bio-adhesive in pursuit of maximum damage.

In his final battle with the Forty-Third Regiment, the outnumbered orcs captured the position of his regiment, with few survivors. So Deroghen detonated his stockpile, and before detonating it, he wrapped himself under layers of hazmat suits and protective equipment.

In the end, the orcs and the 43rd Regiment were all wiped out, except for him.

It has been difficult to agree on his treatment, and given his background as a felon, it is clear that there is no heavier punishment than the death penalty.

But the commissar Konstantin from Tantania decided to give him a chance to prove himself.

According to the latest information, he is now serving in the Ranger unit under Commissar Konstantin, and he seems to be quite happy with the wild combat of the Ranger force.

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"I don't deserve to be saved, and I don't need to be saved." Deroghen confirmed.

Derochen knew that no one liked him, but he didn't care, he was already a dead man long before he was escorted to that rotting and horrible prison world.

As for him, who is still walking and fighting, he is just a walking corpse. The only problem is that he still has a task to do, so Drochen can't be sent to his death easily.

That's why he was able to survive so many desperate circumstances, and this time was no exception.

What's more, he didn't fight alone.

"Hey, Black Dog, how's your preparation going over there?" A ranger, whose name he couldn't name, asked from afar.

The Fourteenth Division Ranger of Datania is equivalent to the Storm Commandos in the other Imperial Guards, but what makes Deroghen feel better is that they are not those brainwashed toy soldiers, but veterans of many battles, not to mention, and the crazy green-skinned political commissar Constantine, Deroghen can finally use his talents without scruples to make those heretics wail in pain under the chemical warfare agent.

"No one is more familiar with orcs than I am." Deroghen's voice passed through the breathing mask.

Although the way these people call themselves makes Deroghen unhappy, but he should bear with it, he is used to it anyway.

Next, Drohén put his own special chemical bomb into his grenade launcher.

"The special Type 9 chemical grenade against orcs, I hope the effect is better than the last time."

Drochen thought about it and turned the muzzle of the launcher up a bit, after all, if he didn't control the dose this time, he was afraid that even he would have to go to see the emperor.

Be patient, Drochen said to himself, and glancing down the hill to see at least a thousand orcs huddled around a smoky tank heading toward the valley.

Suddenly, a shout came from behind Drochen: "Fire!" ”

Then, a missile slammed into the tank in white smoke, and the tattered tank immediately exploded to pieces, and the orcs surrounding the tank were stunned, as if they had not yet reacted to what had happened.

Hiding behind a gas mask, Drochen's pale and gloomy face showed a hint of a smile.

"Taste this, Greenskin."

Then, he pulled the trigger, and the chemical grenade flew out, blasting precisely into the center of the orc, and then, gray-green gas covered the place where the orc had gathered.

At first, there was a roar of rage in the gas, but soon the roar turned into a chilling wail.

In fact, if he hadn't heard it several times, it would have been hard for DeRochen to imagine that those killer plants would have wailed so miserably, but it at least told DeRochen that chemical warfare agents had an effect on these green skins.

The Type 9 bomb is filled with a mixture of festering and neurological gases, which will first corrode the orc's skin and at the same time blunt the orc's reflex arc, that is, make the orc feel severe pain and not be able to react in time, so as to escape from the poison zone.

Moreover, the space inside the Type 9 bomb has been adjusted by Drochen, and combined with the special design of Saratov, this kind of poisonous gas has a surprisingly good effect on orcs, and can even destroy the activity of orc spores, and is suitable for volatilization, but once inhaled, it will definitely die.

Of course, like Saratof's other chemical weapons and the egregious practices of the Saratov Chemical Dog Legion, the use and manufacture of this poison gas has skipped countless procedures and mechanistic oversight, but what does it matter?

The Chemical Dog Legion is a despised, inferior monster and vicious criminal, whose destiny is to die for the Empire anyway, as long as they can inflict maximum damage on their enemies.

Moreover, it occurred to Drochen that he himself enjoyed the job, and that no one would accuse him of heresy for it.

Watching the poisonous gas dissipate and lie down in one piece, barely an inch of their skin is intact, either bleeding black bruises, ulcerated pus, or flesh torn open by themselves.

Their faces were hideous, and those ugly faces were now hung with great pain and fear, and the eyes and even the entire faces of many orcs were as unrecognizable as if they had been burned.

Deroghen snapped his eyes and raised his hand and shot the heads of the two surviving orcs.

Because I don't need salvation anymore.

Deroghen thought as he looked at the fearful, shocked, and disdainful eyes around him.

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On the eve of the Great Expedition 10,000 years ago, the Emperor ordered the demolition of all the altars on Terra, and after the Emperor's death, almost the entire empire was his altar.