Chapter 517 Secret Agent
After the review ceremony, the Governor of the Planet delivered an inspiring speech titled "Never Surrender". He called on the people to quickly get over their sorrow and devote themselves to work with a higher morale. to the cause of devotion to the Emperor.
His speech cannot be said to be bad, but Soshyan only felt that the governor was used to being aloof and his words were too broad and empty.
When Soshyan spoke, he did not mention his identity as Chapter Master, nor his identity as an Astartes. He only told everyone that he was a graduate of Somus Academy Born, the son of a Nathan.
He shared their grief, shared their grief, and was grateful to the people of Nessen IV for their more than ten years of service to the Astral Knights.
Soshyan didn't say much, but he promised one thing.
Naisen No. 4 will definitely have special tax-free rights!
After that, he also solemnly announced to people the establishment of the Suffering Alliance and the joining of new members. When the four chapter leaders raised their swords at the same time and swore the oath of brotherhood, their words were completely drowned. amidst the cheers of the crowd.
At the end of the ceremony, there was a carnival. Billions of alcoholic drinks were taken out, and people sang and danced to cheer for the victory.
It was already afternoon.
At the western gate of the square, guards stationed here are still checking people entering the country.
To this day, there is still a steady flow of people. This celebration will last for three days. Jugglers and vendors from the slums will flock to the night market, and farmers will pull trucks full of food to unload here. .
Of course, there will be no shortage of thieves and swindlers here, as well as some people with other agendas——
“Name?”
People wearing high-end uniforms the officer asked loudly.
This man has a distinguished status, and he knows it.
"Sorge."
A man who looked about thirty years old answered lazily. He was wearing a smelly black fur coat and nestled in the back door of a servitor truck. superior.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?”
"Everyone is crazy for fun? What did our imperial hero say?"
"You don't know?"
The officer looked at the man suspiciously and repeatedly checked the other person's ID.
“I just got off the track and didn’t hear anything.”
“We are going to get special tax exemption here.”
the officer replied proudly.
"Oh? Big news."
"That's right."
"Is there anything else?"
"An alliance has been formed. , there are four battle groups! Four! Our place is safer than Holy Terra now!"
"Big news."
Sorge nodded and repeated, feeling frustrated at the same time.
The situation is a bit complicated.
“There are others behind.”
Suddenly, the officer reminded him.
Sorge shrugged, nodded, and motioned for the driver to drive.
The man rode a bumpy servitor truck through one of the countless checkpoints in the west and entered the outskirts of the square.
This is his goal, maybe his damn destiny, but the situation doesn't look good. This dirty area is full of simple houses, temporary shops and various stalls. It needs more It takes several kilometers to get to the actual square.
Sorge jumped out of the bumpy truck and started walking along the busy road, avoiding caravans and food trucks.
Suddenly, he had a bad feeling, which he used to call his first sense, because according to his beloved mother, he was born without any sense.
"Hey!"
A voice behind him shouted:
"Hey, you! The man in the fur coat!"
Sorge cursed, no doubt His fake ID was discovered.
He looked back and saw a team of guards approaching him from the checkpoint. They were speeding up and pushing aside pedestrians blocking the road.
Most of the locals knew what they were doing and got out of the way immediately, because these guards were not only menacing, but also equipped with large-caliber guns and quite vicious swords.
“Stop!” one of the men shouted, but Sorge didn’t obey, so the officer began shouting at the pedestrians.
“Get out of the way! Don’t stop us from shooting!”
Shoot? It's really nice and heart-warming.
The timing was worse than he expected, the situation was worse than he expected, and his expectations were definitely not that high.
It was time for him to change his identity and begin to use the skills he had honed over his long years of hunting and being hunted, as well as the power his master had given him.
The man smiled and twisted his body, turned sharply to the left, and rushed along the street into a maze of narrow alleys - this is the most crowded area in the West End.
He didn't hit anyone or knock down anything. Pedestrians either ducked in front of him or stood still and let him pass by.
After that, he made two more turns, turning left once and then right, walking along the damp alley between two wooden fences.
The alleys were lined with flags, and he could smell food and pipes.
But those guards were also in excellent physical condition and followed closely behind him. Although they were wearing cumbersome armor, they were still walking as fast as they could, chasing after him.
The blurry gray shadows of several giant food warehouses ahead gradually appeared, and Sorge considered whether he could hide there.
But the guards were very efficient. The second team had already appeared on the other side of the street two hundred meters away. They planned to double-team him from the other end of the street and surround him with the previous pursuers. stand up.
He realized he needed to take action.
He was disappointed, but also a little happy, to have to consider killing so early.
He has been in the subspace for too long, is cold and hungry, and is suitable for taking a few lives.
Sorge was in a bad mood, and the guards who chased him gave him a chance to vent his emotions.
He brought four weapons with him, which he carried here in a living flesh bag, ensuring that these metal objects could perfectly avoid any scanning and inspection equipment.
The flesh sac was the product of some kind of witchcraft, clinging to his back—his wizard master was very good at it.
Among the four weapons, there is a pair of finely crafted pistols with long barrels and thick handles. They are made with top-notch craftsmanship and can fire a covering of needles.
What they lack in range and accuracy, they more than make up for in speed and penetration.
He took the two guns out of the flesh bag and put them inside his fur coat.
The third weapon is a small chain sword, which is similar in length to a short sword. Its history is said to date back to the long war years before the Horus Heresy. I don’t know what its owner did. Arrived.
The fourth weapon is a grenade, but it is not any grenade known to mankind. Strictly speaking, it comes from some kind of alien craft. It is currently installed in the right pocket of his fur coat, mixed with other items together.
Sorge hid in the shadows under the eaves of a dilapidated shack, leaning against a partition wall and waiting quietly.
Six people surrounded them from behind, and another six people rushed from the front. They were all guards, armed with weapons, and equipped with well-crafted long swords for close combat.
They are well trained and armed, and are sure to take him down.
Sorge hurriedly put his hands into his coat, pulled out his two guns, and pointed the muzzles at the dark clouded sky.
Then he flicked a button with his thumb, activating the nearly silent gravity accelerators and setting them into motion.
The handle of the gun gradually grew warm.
The pursuit of footsteps suddenly stopped. Sorge listened carefully. Amidst the gurgling sound of the nearby man-made canal and the noise of the distant streets, he captured some short and subtle sounds: the team's internal communication, they The search is gradually spreading out.
Come and catch me, he thought to himself.
Two men suddenly appeared on his left, turning the corner of the shack, weapons at the ready.
Sorge smiled slightly, took steps, and fired with both guns in his hands.
He pressed the trigger extremely gently, and the gravity accelerator projected the needle at an unusually high speed - this system was extremely efficient and would release several high-penetrating bullets within a second or two.
Sorge was very skilled. The gun in his left hand spit out four needles and penetrated the breastplate of one guard, while the gun in his right hand did the same thing to another guard.
The next second, they fell silently on their backs, wounds that were difficult to see with the naked eye loomed between their chests, and then a large amount of blood gushed out.
"Huh?"
Sorge suddenly turned around and saw the third guard appearing behind him on the other side of the shack.
So he turned around, straightened his arm and fired with his left hand, sending two needles into the man's face, splitting his brain in his skull.
The man fell to his knees, then lay back, his helmet spurting out a stream of blood as it hit the ground.
But such actions still aroused alertness around them.
(End of this chapter)