The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"It seems you already appreciate the taste of this wine."

Seeing Soshjan's expression, Tyrion immediately put down his glass, pointed to a plate on Soshjan's right with a fork, and said with a smile:

"This wine pairs very well with this rose mushroom from the Ghoul Stars. You can try it. They need to be stored in freezers at minus forty degrees for decades or even centuries to be transported here. The Ghoul Stars are notoriously dangerous. Out of ten ships, maybe only one will return, and that's even the most optimistic scenario."

Soshjan looked at the silver plate, which contained what he previously thought was a flower-like ingredient, because its appearance was indeed as red as a rose with layered petals, and cryogenic nitrogen was constantly floating in the plate.

Then he picked up the thing that was less than a quarter of his palm and put it in his mouth. As he chewed, he felt as if fruit was bursting in his mouth.

Then came a complex taste, a bit like the taste of pickled rose sugar and mushroom soup spreading in his mouth, and quickly merged with the aftertaste of the wine, forming a fresh and sweet taste that returned to simplicity.

But then a sense of guilt arose in Soshjan's heart. He knew that the value of every bite he drank and ate was enough to buy the spire of a hive city in a low-level world, but he would not blame Tyrion. After all, they were onTerra - at the top of the pyramid of imperial power. People like Tyrion probably rarely consider these things, and it would be too extravagant to ask them to consider them.

However, after Tyrion ate a piece of amber-colored exotic fruit, he suddenly said:

"Chapter Master Soshjan, do you loathe all of this before you, thinking that we are indulging in pleasure and not caring about so many people struggling to survive?"

Soshjan took a sip of priceless wine and said softly:

"Perhaps I would have in the past, but this crusade has taught me many things. If you really want to say that, the value of every suit of power armor we wear, every bolt we use, is no less than these on the table. We are also diners, and even more greedy diners. You chew on delicacies, and we chew on war, but nothing is more greedy and extravagant than war. Perhaps war seems more meaningful, but it doesn't make much difference to others, not to mention that for mortals, regardless of their status, various physiological needs are objectively present. It is unrealistic and abnormal to ask everyone to be like a saint, but I personally still don't like this, and I won't hide my preferences."

"You really surprise me, Chapter Master Soshjan."

Tyrion raised his glass, and Soshjan immediately made the same move, and the two glasses gently touched each other.

"In theImperium, harsh demands on others are the most common situation, or to put it bluntly, theInquisition is built on this view, others' small mistakes must be severely punished, and there are always reasons to forgive one's own sins. TheImperium has been encouraging this trend, no wonder I thought this impossible expedition could be completed by you. Understanding and tolerance are easy to say, but too difficult to do."

At this moment, a chef walked over pushing a dining car, followed by Tyrion's secretary.

"You must try this dish, it is said to be 30,000 years old."

Just as the chef was busy preparing, Soshjan noticed something, and then smiled:

"Prime Minister, it seems you don't have anyservitors in your house?"

Tyrion waved his hand.

"Yes, I hate those ugly, neither human nor ghost things. Either use robots directly, or use living people well. I can't understand what the benefit of half-human, half-machine is. Anyway, I have never allowed them to appear in my house and garden. All my servants, even the cleaners, are ordinary humans. They are educated in the best schools, and will get a position in the bureaucracy in the future, so their parents are happy to let their children serve me here."

Soshjan smiled slightly.

"I presume you have arranged quite a few people in various departments."

Tyrion shrugged.

"Just normal operations for an old bureaucrat. I can't do everything myself."

At this time, the chef had opened the plate cover. The heated plate was still steaming. Inside was a lump of something like bread, with a yellow crust on the outside. Then, under Soshjan's curious gaze, the chef cut open the crust with a knife, revealing a bright red cross-section.

The chef placed a cut piece into a heated porcelain dish, which was also garnished with green leaves and petals, and then Anna Murza Jack brought it to Soshjan's side.

"Thank you."

Soshjan nodded with a smile, carefully looking at this delicacy said to be from 30,000 years ago.

It looked like a piece of tender pink meat of some unknown animal wrapped in puff pastry, but there was a circle of black stuff where the pastry met the meat. Because this thing was relatively small compared to Soshjan's physique, there was no need for a knife, so he directly forked it and put it in his mouth.

It was fresh, fragrant, tender, smooth, salty and sweet, and he could also taste that the black layer should be a sauce made from fungi.

The taste was not amazing, but it was indeed worthy of being called a delicacy.

He was more curious about what kind of creature the meat was, because it was very different from the most common grox meat, but it would definitely not be poultry.

"Prime Minister, what is this made of, what's it called?"

"Ha, the original name can no longer be reliably traced, but it is said to have been passed down from the Imperial Palace after the Horus Heresy.Primarch Dorn used to like this dish the most, so it is also called the Guardian's Dish. Its material is a nearly extinctTerra native cow. This cow is currently only raised in the Golden Ranch of the City of the Blessed. Let's just say, anyone who lives shorter than me is basically not qualified to enjoy this ancient animal, and there are only 15 chefs on all ofTerra who can make this dish. Gordon has been serving me for thirty years, and he is working hard to pass on his skills to his three sons."

Soshjan looked at the chef, who was in his fifties and looked very energetic, and the other party also bowed slightly to him.

"This dish is very good, thank you very much for your skill."

The chef seemed a little nervous. He might also be facing a legendaryAstartes for the first time, and such a huge one. After swallowing, he said in a low voice:

"Then would you like another serving?"

"If possible, thank you."

After the meal, the atmosphere between the two was very harmonious. Soshjan had a deeper understanding of this seemingly fond of luxury, bloated in appearance, but in fact exquisite and transparent Imperial Prime Minister. He was not a pure politician who was only immersed in political games and bureaucratic tricks. In fact, Tyrion had an unusual concern for military affairs and the war situation of the empire, although this was not within his responsibilities, he would still collect the situation of various war zones and fronts of the empire as much as possible, although many intelligence was late when it was sent to him.

But this also made him the most sober person in the empire. Sometimes Soshjan guessed that his luxury, in a sense, was also anesthetizing himself, just like a person facing an irreversible situation usually chooses alcohol.

Tyrion may want to do a lot of things, but reality prevents him from moving.

Soshjan felt that this kind of person could be associated with and should be able to cooperate with.

And the real purpose of the other party's invitation, I think, will soon be known.

More updates tomorrow