Morning

Destiny Steel (Iron Blood)

Lower deck

A corner that no one knows

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The two men who had hidden themselves under a black hooded burqa finally exchanged opinions with gestures in the wide sleeves.

One of them hurried away, while the other waited in place, changing directions.

After a while, a third man in black appeared alertly.

They nodded to each other, then reached out and began to talk with gestures under the cover of their sleeves.

[Are you sure it's safe here?] 】

[Relatively speaking. I've been observing for a long time, and my lord has been monitoring this place for a longer time lately in the early hours of the morning. 】

[It's too risky! If we are discovered, we may all go to hellbeasts! 】

[It is also possible that before we entered the Hellbeast, we were already in the form of the depravity and debauchery of our pathetic cousins.] 】

Hearing this, the latter seemed to be immediately convinced, and he changed his focus uneasily, [Then what are your plans? 】

The first man in black pondered.

[First of all, have you recently smelled a strange smell, or strange scent, when your father appeared? It feels like ...... Fur, saliva, fermented grains, and incense. 】

[So you smell it too?] I thought it was some unknown critter that ran into the ventilation system, and I had the maintenance team climb in with armed servants to overhaul it. 】

[It seems that everyone smells it.] Based on previous experience, I think this is a suspicious point, and we should start here......]

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The Destiny Steel left the harbor laden with resources and a new crew after a purchase spree, and was sailing to a destination at the Iron Lord's will.

What? Where do the funds come from, you ask, for those who make normal purchases? Then ask Perturabo about the inventory of fantasy wines.

Petura Boben's comment on this is:...... Dogs can't eat grapes or drink wine anyway; I can't kill him or kill him anyway!

Considering that in addition to the slave trade, the other people in the port *have their own powers* to make purchases, it will not be long before word spreads that a "wealthy Ronin Trader with a mechanical priest, an Astarte garrison, and a moon-class barge will enter this sector."

In the time of astronautics, it can be said that there are many things in every moment, and it can also be said that there are very few things.

For a ship in decent condition to navigate safely in today's universe, if it does not intend to rely on too much of the supreme heavens, the winds of the ether, the occult and the occult in addition to the torch, then it will require a lot of boring, repetitive but necessary daily maintenance and upkeep.

Even though the Iron Blood is highly automated and has a large number of Iron Ring Soldiers on board - someone will need to service and monitor the machinery.

In the past, Perturabo himself could do most of this with a small chunk of computing power, but recently the Iron Lord claims that he needs to devote his energies to more important causes - so a busy and repetitive day of overtime has become a staple of the crew's daily routine lately, with demand for Reka coffee in both the officers' and lower canteens.

Oh, and if you don't count two things:

The Iron Warriors' frequent mysterious accidents and the words of the Think Tank, the wizard who often triggers anti-psionic positions in various forbidden areas and mysteriously disappears.

Having received numerous reports of damage management, "Perturabo" has ordered that no one is allowed to use rituals, incantations, weapons, or body parts in the ship's work area to cause casualties. Strip me naked and beat me hard!

Hong Suo is undoubtedly doing a pretty good job as a private *regular* pharmacist of the original body, and the condition of the fearless elder has been completely stabilized, and he will be supplied with sufficient sedatives and nutrients every day; Thirty unfinished ones have been implanted with the meninges of feigned death by his hands, and the drug shock and hypnosis training are also very smooth.

It is said that he is now very obsessed with such topics as "how to perform nineteen Astarte transformation surgeries under the most rudimentary conditions", "how to quickly collect genetic seeds from both sides during siege and battle", and "how to efficiently use the production capacity of genetic seeds", but he still did not forget to submit detailed medical reports to the recruits on time.

Perturabo flipped through the data board, "Igor, Marco, Maxim, Vitalye...... Julius who must be noticed? ”

Oh, and it's no surprise that the scheming-looking golden retriever is a ...... Well? A newly awakened psyker? More signs of psionic energy as the surgery progresses? And the psionic level prediction will be very good? Suggest arranging think tank training? Are you kidding......

Bian Mu sat on his couch throne full of surveillance screens, and raised his head after contemplating the latest medical report, and he couldn't help but roar at what he saw.

"Ramizane Kalosini! What are you doing again?! What about the daily report of the internal monitoring of the ship?! ”

"Well, it's too late before that dead line. I thought, let's make a water blower first......"

The dog looked at each other with a look of "are you ()()() being taken into the brain by Tzeentch again".

"Pepe." Lamizan connected the hose of the water blower in his hand and walked solemnly to the border herd.

Perturabo's ears erected alertly, tensing his muscles, and he licked the tip of his nose, "I warn you......"

"It's time for you to take a shower, trim your hair, untie your knots, brush your teeth, pick your ears, and cut your nails again."

“……”

Lamizan reached out and picked up the stinky face Bian Mu, tucked it under his armpit, and strode towards the newly made steel bathtub.

"You're sticky! I can't believe it! Let's sprinkle you with some Cologne perfume-scented conditioner that I just figured out. ”

Bian Mu stood up on his hind legs and put his two wet front paws on the edge of the tub, his soaked fur sticking to his body.

Perturabo's face was gloomy, his ears drooping, and his beard dripping with foam and bathwater.

“…… I sometimes wonder if you've been favored by the Tampered Heaven or by the Paradise. ”

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After a series of bath and beauty procedures, the super fluffy, soft, hot, and fleshy pads that came out of the oven were all fragrant, and Perturabo jumped back onto his couch throne.

The processing information to be done on the screen has piled up into a sizeable number.

Bian Mu frowned and transferred some of the data that needed to be processed into the waiting queue of LOGOS, while looking at his colossal body that was carefully collecting the combed dog hair - ah, no matter how many times I watched this scene, it made people want to burn the galaxy.

After listening to the children's communication channels one by one, and then tracking and correcting the psionic monitoring collar data around the neck of the current think tank, the Thousand Sons Wizard, who was wandering outside the stacks on the second floor of the library, Perturabo was a little absent-minded.

He had a strip of roasted meat in his mouth, letting his muscle fibers brush his teeth as he tilted his head to look at the screen.

Perturabo suddenly asked a deep question.

"Have you ever thought about what you're going to do next?"

"What?" His body turned around while carefully closing the lid of the fluff collection box, "What do you mean?" ”

"I mean...... Can you pursue it a little? ”

"For example?"

"For example, go back and gather my heirs, activate the war engine for the entire planet, appoint a good commander, reunite my legions, deliver a fatal blow to the ridiculous heirs of Dorne, and then launch a truly epic campaign that starts with the destruction of an entire galaxy, announces your arrival to the galaxy or makes the worms on Terra think of you as their doom for the rest of the day."

"Ugh."

His body stood in an upright position, indicating that he was really thinking about it.

"First of all." Lamizan wiped her hands with a deep groan, "I think you may have misunderstood me. ”

"Oh?"

"In the past, when I bought meat for dogs, I only dared to buy clean meat that was completely processed and only needed to be cooked."

The dog frowned, just as he had when he was still in his body.

"What are you trying to illustrate?"

"I want to make it clear, you may not realize it, but since I came to this place, being able to do it so far is already the highest willpower among those who come to peace."

"Humph!"

"Secondly," the outsider carefully chooses his words, "I don't think the desire to do this kind of thing in this body is so strong...... As a matter of fact. ”

They stared into each other's eyes.

"Actually, I think you should think about what you're going to do next, Perturabo."