40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 616 2. Prelude
Carlile put the newspaper down, folded it carefully, and put it in his coat pocket. As for whether the local newspaper Banjo-1 would have any effect on his coat with its inferior ink, that was not a consideration.

It was still early, so he could walk around the city for a while. It wouldn't be difficult to find a hotel with a laundry room. Although the natural environment in most mining worlds was terrible, they must have a full range of facilities. This was a win-win situation.
He thought about these things, took out a small notebook and a pen from his pocket, wrote down these words, then put away the notebook and began to taste the thick fish soup.

Frankly, it tasted amazing for the price, and it was the most affordable meal he had had in four years.

Considering that the method of travel he used was once called hitchhiking, that assessment might have to be raised a few notches.

Khalil sipped the fish soup, his left hand still tapping rhythmically on the greasy wooden table, as if he was imitating the beat of a drum - which he was.

Thanks to his drifting travel style, he experienced many special things, from a grand wedding born from the nest, to riding a land shark in the desert, and even listening to a special music show in the cargo hold with the sailors.
The drum beat he was playing was learned from that music show.

However, for ordinary people, this is undoubtedly a very dangerous way of life. After all, who can guarantee that they will not encounter any danger?

And I am not ordinary, Khalil thought.

He wanted to tell a joke, but he knew that no one in this bar or even on this planet would understand his joke.
A few minutes later, two cups of hot water and two bowls of steaming fish fried rice were brought to the table by the bald bartender and boss himself. Khalil didn't need to look back to see that the waitress named Catalina was wiping the glasses angrily beside the bar.

He pretended not to know what Reed Benson was up to, thanked him, and then began to enjoy the fried rice, which tasted a little worse than the thick soup, but was still better than most of the food on the ship.

After a simple meal, he stood up, wrapped himself in a scarf, picked up his suitcase, and left the Stupid Fisherman's House with Hayid, who had already finished the battle after wolfing down his food.

The natural environment of Banjo-1 is terrible, with biting cold winds, chemical smoke everywhere, and the sky has long been obscured. The planet named "Sun" even looks an industrial gray, quite like an artificial light tube.

However, looking at the entire empire, this is already a good environment. At least people don't need a set of protective clothing to go out.
"Where to next, sir?" his guide asked.

"I don't know, do you have any recommendations?" Khalil answered casually. His eyes were attracted by a group of miners carrying tools passing by across the road.

These men were strong and sturdy, wearing overalls and nice thick leather boots, with drilling machines and long cables on their shoulders or in their hands, looking very professional. But their steps were a little hesitant and their expressions were quite complicated.

Haid noticed his gaze and sighed visibly.

"It seems that things are not going well in the mines lately." The old sailor explained to him tactfully. "I heard that several people are missing, and there was a cave-in in a mine. Your Majesty, this is unfortunate."

Khalil turned around and said, "Landslide?"

The old sailor nodded with a wry smile: "No one knows what happened, but there was a landslide. The rescue team went in but didn't find many survivors. The rocks buried them all."

"May they rest in peace," Khalil said softly.

He looked back at the group of miners again, and only withdrew his gaze when they disappeared into the deepest part of the sea of ​​cars and smoke.

His tour guide seemed to remember his identity at this moment and gave a good suggestion: "How about we go to the Moon District, sir?"

"Moon District?"

The old sailor nodded and coughed a few more times. "I think you need a place to stay. There are many hotels there, and most of them are quite clean."

"I'll listen to you, Mr. Haider." Khalil smiled. "I believe in the character of a retired soldier."

The old sailor was startled when he heard this, and his hands clenched subconsciously. He asked in surprise, "How did you know?"

"It's not hard to tell, actually. First of all, the standing posture is always very straight. Without training and a long military career, it's hard to maintain this habit."

"Then there's your walking posture. You always keep your left hand in front of you with your elbow slightly bent, so you can aim your gun at any time. And most importantly, you keep looking left and right, observing your surroundings. Old habits die hard, Mr. Haid?"

The old sailor was silent for a moment, then nodded and admitted his identity, but his expression became a little tense: "You are right - but I don't understand, who are you? Most people don't have this kind of observation ability."

"Some things are better left unexplored." Khalil replied with a smile. "At least for now, I am still just a curious tourist, that's enough. Now, can you take me to the Moon Area? I want to rest for a while."

With his smile, the old sailor took a deep breath and took a step forward.

More than an hour later, Khalil walked into a not-too-small room carrying a suitcase.

Under Hayid's guidance, he stayed in a hotel called "The Best of the Best", which had a good environment and a reasonable price, but Khalil still did not choose the top suite. He could not afford a too expensive room, and he did not want to live in a too expensive room.

An experience similar to that on the Emperor's Dream is enough to have once.

He put down his suitcase, took off his hat and scarf, then his gloves, and then began to take off his coat, a heavy black coat he had bought two months ago, when he also stopped temporarily in a cold world.

It was summer in the local area, but thick coats and cotton linings were still needed to keep out the cold. In order to adapt to the local customs and not to attract attention, Khalil bought this set of clothes. Now it seems that the money was well spent.

He folded his coat, took out the newspaper, notebook and pen, and threw them on a small sofa in the room. Then he sat on it and continued reading the newspaper.

The cold wind was still raging outside the window, and it looked like it would not stop all day, but the temperature inside the house was quite pleasant. Khalil squinted his eyes and stared at the newspaper, his eyes quickly scanning the lines of words.

He quickly finished reading the "interstellar" events, and the news on the Banjo System and Banjo-1 came into view soon after. However, until he finished reading the lace version, there was still no news about the mine collapse. This was very interesting.

He put down the newspaper, picked up the brown paper book on his knees, stood up, walked to a wooden table, turned on the desk lamp and started writing.

The furniture provided by the hotel was not particularly comfortable, but it was very sturdy and durable, and the table and chair that supported him at the moment were like this. The pen moved quickly, and the ink formed one character after another under the pen tip.
After about ten minutes, Khalil put down his pen and began to look at his notes.

In other words, an investigative report.

Yes, he really likes the profession of investigator, but it's just what he wrote.
"After leaving the Lord, I will definitely miss the ship and the sailors led by Jack. And their Ratman cook. Although the lady has a bit of a thieving habit, she will return things, and the thick soup she makes tastes very good."

"We have landed on Planet No. 1 in the Banjo Galaxy. Like most planets in the galaxy, this is also a mining world, famous for producing beautiful gems and natural crystals."

"The natural environment here is as bad as ever. I hope to meet Belisarius Cawl again. He should have a way to solve these pollutions once and for all. He should not refuse. He still has humanity in his heart, and it is very rich."

"I met a retired soldier, Haid. He is very sensible and observant. He must not have been an ordinary soldier before he retired. He probably won one or two medals during his service. But his life is not going well now. I hope I can help him before I leave."

"I read in the newspaper that Ultramar has regained its light. To be honest, the news came a little late. It has been four years and the news has only just reached here."

“This means that Sanguinius’ fleet has most likely returned to the solar system. As for the veteran troops, I hope Ra can control them and that they can remain patient.

"Robert, don't be sad, some people are destined to be heroes."

"I also saw in the newspaper that the Dark Angels visited the Banjo system. This is very unusual. A startup group visits a remote mining system. What do they want?"

"I have a hunch that they are here for me. Or maybe I am just overthinking it. Anyway, let's just wait and see what happens."

"I learned from Haid about the recent misfortunes in the mine, including disappearances, landslides, and the newspapers' concealment of the facts. Perhaps the news was delayed, or the authorities issued an order. I hope it's the former. Banjo-1 has very good thick fish soup, and I don't want to miss it in the future."

Closing the notebook, Khalil turned his head and stared at the gloomy gray sky outside the window. He tapped the table with his hands again, and music that only he could hear slowly flowed out.
-
Pleasant, indeed pleasant, Trazyn thought with a smile.

Oh, how could such a good thing happen? It really kills two birds with one stone, chopping off two heads of Orikan with one sword.
The Infinite One couldn't help but sigh, loosened his grip, letting his Ruthless Annihilation Staff stand in place, and then walked happily towards the two Astartes who were standing motionless opposite him.

The black armor and black helmet were tattered. The eagle on his chest was still there, but the emblem on his left shoulder had been completely erased and no trace of it could be seen.

Trazyn looked at the two Astartes carefully, groaning from time to time. Finally, he shook his head, and a look of regret appeared on his long skull face.

“I couldn’t recognize it.”

He turned around with a grunt, picked up his staff, and began to complain loudly to the wall with some early symptoms of mental illness.

"How could they do that? Huh? Erase the logo? How do I decide which gallery they go in? Damn the Dark Angels, now—"

He turned around and began to hit the ground repeatedly with the Empathy Annihilation Rod in his hand, making a dull metallic collision sound.

"——You can only keep the other 128 companions company! I hope you can recognize whether they are loyal or treacherous when you are in the stasis field, hum..."

The Endless snorted coldly and walked out of the room deep in the hive, then looked up at the sky.

The last time he came to this planet, it still had a complete natural landscape, at least he could see a clear night sky. But now, there is no greenery to be seen, and the night sky is also obscured by smoke.

Trazyn even felt that if he still had lungs, he would be poisoned by the air here.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a little depressed - humans seemed to be unaware of the treasures they possessed, always treating the things around them violently, wreaking havoc, and throwing everything into the gears of war to meet all the needs of their corrupt political system.
As he thought this, his hands did not slow down. A delicate round ball flew from half a block away with a low hum and fell into his hands.

This was a simple time-stopping device, made by Trazyn himself. It wasn't very large, but it was enough to satisfy his usual archaeological theft needs.

He put away the sphere, walked back into the room and waved the Staff of Empathy and Annihilation, sending the two Dark Angels who had been hiding for ten thousand years back to their hidden ship outside this galaxy.

He looked forward to finishing his work, returning to Solomus, and dressing the two angels carefully. Their armor was old but in good condition, and Trazyn hoped that he could use the equipment in the museum to try to decipher their true identities.
Of course, before that, he needs to have a meeting. A meeting where he arranges the meeting place, and he decides the duration, security measures, and transportation methods.
In fact, Tracin had already prepared all these things.

He then turned to his old friend Orikan, and through a small lie that was nine true and one false, he got the astrologer to agree to do divination for him, which took a total of eight natural months.

Of course, this was the apparent time, and Trazyn knew that to divine the whereabouts of a god, his old friend must have traveled back in time many times. But what did this have to do with him?

Now, he is on the fourth planet of the Banjo galaxy and can set off to the first planet at any time to find the distinguished guest.
Orikan, you are dead. Trazyn laughed in his heart, and then walked triumphantly into the night.

Ten hours later, his friend Orikan walked into the same room he had walked into, a distorted expression on his long metal face.

"So that's what you were planning!" The astrologer stretched out his hand to block the inside and outside of the room, and then immediately roared. "Just wait and see, Trazyn!"

(End of this chapter)