Chapter 122 The King of Hell
The underground hive industrial area, if this can still be called an industrial area
The old tank factory where he made his fortune has been buried in ruins under the fire of the orcs. Who knows how long it will take to clean up these things.
Those workers, yes, those citizens and scavengers coming to the bottom and middle-level hives, I can only wish them good luck.
The industrial area has complex terrain and a large flow of people.
The attacks faced were scattered and scattered from all directions.
The orc special forces boys who sneaked in lurked in the shadows, attacking workers who came down to take a breather from the never-ending production line.
Scalp them, stick them in every corner, and crush their morale with fear.
But it was quite good. After seeing the fate of their companions, those lucky guys gave up the stupid idea of compromising with the orcs one by one.
People are strong, and they can burst out with amazing perseverance and endurance even with the lowest food security.
People are also fragile. A long, hopeless and cruel war can destroy their spirit, and their body, burned by the heat of molten iron, will collapse.
Yarrick left, taking all the fighting troops with him, leaving only some gang thugs around Domicilon, as well as the larger number of workers and militiamen.
He relied on his cunning and familiarity with the sewers and traps of the underlying hive city to survive, and survived until the orcs retreated.
Sitting silently on a half-burned sofa and extinguishing some stray flames with his fingers, Domicilon looked at his office.
In this office where I have been staying for decades, there are many skins of monsters in the sewers of the hive city hanging in it, as well as some realistic paintings painted by middle-level hive city painters.
Half of the house was missing, and Domicilone could see the outside world from his couch without having to open the door.
He felt like a king of hell, looking at the steel cemetery in front of him with sparks and molten iron flowing.
Farther away was a field of flames and black smoke, and the smell of burning corpses wafted in waves.
"There are not many living people left in this place."
Domicilon shook his head, "A war."
"Tsk tsk tsk, a victory."
The more he talked about it, the more sarcastic he said.
He took out a bottle of wine from a relatively complete safe, but after searching for a long time, he couldn't find a decent cup.
He shrugged, cut the mouth of the bottle open with a single-molecule dagger, and poured the wine into his mouth against the smooth and neat cut.
“A thousand, ten thousand, or more people died just to keep one person alive.”
"Did the remaining person really see victory?"
"It's really cheap. Even the results of a gang war are better than this. There are no trophies in front of me, only pure graves."
After taking another sip of wine, Domicilon was a little drunk. He kept talking as if he was chatting with someone else.
"And you idiot. You've always been so reckless that no one can stop you."
"I've told you a long time ago that everything on those pieces of paper is false. But you just didn't listen. You didn't listen when I first met you, and you didn't listen when I went to see that poker face of Yaric. listen."
Lifting the bottle, he found that there was no more wine. Domicilon shook the reflective glass bottle and threw it back.
The quality of this glass bottle is quite good. It did not break due to bumps and was rolling smoothly.
"Hahaha! I will be able to manage this hive soon, instead of just hanging out in the dark with those little beings in the sewers."
"And you? Stop teasing me. I will never give you an official position. Go and play with your dear political commissar Yarick."
Domicilon stood up unsteadily, then sat down again with his head in his hands. It seemed that he drank the bottle of liquor too quickly.
He touched the inner pocket of his clothes and found a tube of metal products. When he took it out, he saw it was a poorly made injection with a photo stuck on it.
Domicilon's thin and mean face was completely unphotogenic, and looked so cold and terrifying in the photo, but Ryder beside him was smiling happily, looking simple and honest.
"I should have killed you with one shot."
Domicilon looked at the photos on the needle tube and chattered, telling stories about their past.
———-
At the combat meeting five days later, General Westad of the Casare Corps, political commissar Yaric, Sage Kaos, and Domisilon specified a combat plan against the orcs in a fortress in the Hades nest.
"There are still many orcs lurking in the industrial area below. I have tried my best to collect survivors from the ruins, but it will still take a long time to resume production." Domicilon still looked so frivolous, He was turning the knife with one hand and supporting his chin with the other hand, looking at nowhere.
"This is a military meeting, please be respectful." General Westad frowned, but did not get angry immediately. He already knew this man's talent in the production line from his exchange with Yarick.
He also knew that the leader of the gang in front of him had gone through several bloody battles, and he still retained some respect for the soldiers, so he did not curse him, but reminded him in a strong tone.
Domicilon could not comment and leaned on his chair without speaking.
Yarrick saw that the atmosphere of the meeting had become somewhat stagnant, and he coughed lightly, "Our current situation is not very good. In order to break through and occupy the Holy Word Square, almost half of our experienced soldiers were killed."
"And those armored vehicles need to be repaired. The current industrial capacity has been allocated to the repair link. The only thing we can produce in the short term is the laser gun." Domicilon interrupted and supplemented Yarick's summary.
"Our legion also has a certain amount of armored troops, but most of them were damaged during the warp voyage. It may be difficult for us to launch a counterattack against the orcs in the short term. We can only wait for the troops of the Styx defense line to advance from somewhere and fill this jagged chaotic front. Then we can launch an attack from the side."
General Westad was also helpless. The demon army they suffered in the warp caused serious losses to his legion and equipment. Although the soldiers left from the magic army and the Inquisition cleansing had stronger combat capabilities and were more pious to the Emperor.
But it still could not change the fact that they lacked the means to break through and attack.
"That seems to be it. We will defend the city. I believe other legions will soon come from the Styx defense line."
"Hey, can I say a few words?"