bdsm-fiction Chapter 49 The Star Child
Chapter 49 The Star Child
He stood up and looked down at her.
"You went through life and death, and you saw the monster's true face. A cracked face, a purple carapace."
"Then tell me, before the monster's face split open, did you feel that the monster's eyes looked familiar?"
The older widow paused for a moment, then answered tremblingly:
"Yes, it's eyes. A fervent, almost desperate look, like they'd give up everything... My husband and I saw that look when we lived in the lower wards. They were from the 'Star Children Mutual Aid Association'."
"Star Child Mutual Aid Society?" Lo Wei keenly caught the word.
"Yes, sir. They're an underground organization that often distributes free potions in abandoned pipe areas."
"They said that as long as you drink their medicine, you will hear the call of the star god and you will... no longer be hungry."
Lo Wei pulled a notebook out of his pocket.
Unscrew the pen.
I solemnly wrote down this name.
now it's right.
The logical chain is closed.
The Genestealers cult never appears out of thin air.
They always masquerade as charity, religion, or mutual aid societies, taking root and sprouting at the very bottom of society.
They exploit people's despair and hunger to spread their blasphemous genes.
"Very good, that's what I want you to do."
Luo Wei closed his notebook and spoke again:
"Change into your uniform, go to the laundry room, the canteen, the medical station. Those are places where rumors and gossip gather."
"I want you to use your status as 'widows of heroes' to listen and record."
"Who is secretly spreading strange doctrines? Who has strange purple spots on their body? Who is praying into the sewers at midnight?"
"Write these names down and give them to me."
"This is your job. You don't need to carry guns, you don't need to fight, you just need to use your ears and mouth."
The three widows looked at the uniform and keys on the table.
That represents dignity, survival, and the hope of living like a human being.
They slid off the bed, knelt down, and slammed their foreheads heavily against the cold cement floor.
"We are willing, sir. We are willing to be your eyes."
Lo Wei nodded.
He didn't feel the thrill of power; he only felt somewhat exhausted.
In this rotten world, so-called redemption is nothing more than replacing base exploitation with a more sophisticated form of utilization.
"Old John, take them to their new dorms. Oh, and find them a literate teacher to teach them how to write reports."
"Yes, advisor."
……
Back in his supervisor's office at the top of the tower, Lowe did not rest immediately.
He drew a red circle around the words "Star Child Mutual Aid Association" in his notebook.
It's like discovering a staggering amount of unexplained expense during an audit.
You can't immediately launch a large-scale investigation.
It would alert the enemy.
It will also drive those who falsify accounts to desperate measures.
Even a governor could not simply purge a "mutual aid society" with a large number of lower-class believers without solid evidence.
Doing so would incite riots.
The lessons of history are not far off.
In Luo Wei's mind, the "Internal Riot Assessment Report No. 982" listed as "confidential" in the Executive Yuan's archives came to mind.
Twenty years ago, the former governor.
That is, Alicia's father.
Events that occurred during the reign of His Excellency Varantius the Elder.
This governor, known for his iron fist, discovered that a group called the "Iron Spoon Brotherhood" in the underworld was suspected of possessing weapons illegally.
Without any external cuts or public opinion preparation.
They directly mobilized three regiments of legal arbitrators to attempt a physical cleanup of the bottom nest.
The results of it?
The seemingly loosely organized Brotherhood actually controls 80% of the wastewater recycling system in the bottom nest, as well as the maintenance of the heat exchange pipelines.
Just three hours after the cleaning order was given, the bottom nest rioted.
They didn't rush in to their deaths.
The heat exchange valve leading to the upper spire was shut off directly.
At the same time, untreated industrial wastewater was poured into the water supply system.
That was a disastrous winter.
The noble aristocrats, shivering in their mansions where temperatures were forty degrees below zero, drank filthy water that tasted of sulfur.
The entire ecological cycle system of the nest city is on the verge of collapse.
Production capacity has plummeted by 60 percent.
Old Valantius almost faced immediate reprimand from a high-level auditing task force sent by the Gothic Sector Military Affairs Department for failing to pay his tithes on time.
At that time, a strike cruiser belonging to the Gothic Sector Fleet was already anchored in the crowded low orbit of the hive city.
Its large cannons locked onto the Governor's Spire.
If it weren't for old Varantius choosing to compromise with the bottom nest at the last moment...
He ordered the execution of several arbitrators who carried out the order, making them scapegoats, and promised to double the amount of the deficit to be paid over the next ten years.
The Auditor General of the Ministry of Military Affairs would undoubtedly sign off without hesitation, bringing the Valentius family's rule to an end amidst the roar of cannons.
This is the ecology of Nest City.
These so-called "mutual aid societies" to some extent replaced the social security function that the empire lacked.
They are the only campfire for the underprivileged to huddle together for warmth in their despair.
Lo Wei couldn't help but recall the scene from two days ago when Father Simon, the representative of the Church of England, who was covered in incense, visited him.
The priest sat in the leather sofa and told him a story about "the sewer and the rats".
This was a reminder to him not to underestimate the influence of grassroots gangs.
Therefore, he must be patient.
More data is needed to corroborate this.
Luo Wei closed his notebook.
They locked it in a drawer with a genetic identification lock.
"consultant."
Buck stood in front of the desk, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping himself.
"Just say what you want to say, Buck. Stop stammering like a girl." Rowe poured himself a glass of cold water.
"Aren't we... being too cruel?" Buck pointed downstairs. "Using them as bait, and now we're making them our spies. They just lost their husbands, after all. I'm worried my men will have something to say about it."
Luo Wei put down his water glass and looked at the old soldier, whose face was full of fierceness, but who surprisingly still retained a bit of principles.
"cruel?"
Luo Wei walked to the window and pointed to the pitch-black night outside.
"Buck, look at this darkness. What will happen to them if we don't do this?"
"He took that little bit of compensation, had it all stolen by his neighbors, was gang-raped by a gang, and ended up as a floating corpse in the sewers, becoming food for the zombies."
"I gave them dignity and the means to survive. Even if that means was selling intelligence, it was something they earned through their own abilities."
"The greatest kindness we can show to others is not charity, but giving them 'value to be used'."
"You are only safe when you are useful."
Buck was silent for a moment.
He nodded and gave a standard military salute.
"I understand, advisor. This is for survival... I'll go arrange tomorrow's patrol."
"After you've made the arrangements, bring your people and come with me to a place."
Loewe picked up the brass pocket watch and glanced at it.
The clock hands pointed to 2:15 a.m.
But he was wide awake.
There is one more thing that must be done.
……
On the edge of the Seventh Granary, in Slum Area C.
This is the festering wound of this steel fortress.
Countless abandoned shipping containers, rusted sheet metal, and plastic sheets picked up from who-knows-where were piled up in layers.
Mold, engine oil, and old excrement.
This created the unique character of the slums.
Lowe, accompanied by a squad of fully armed guards, stopped in front of a container numbered C-17.
These guards were not wearing regular bulletproof vests.
They were wrapped in heavy, bulky, white, fully enclosed hazmat suits.
The explosive gun in his hand was replaced with a portable flamethrower, and a Geiger counter that made a "sizzling" sound.
"Is this the place?"
Luo Wei's voice came through the gas mask, sounding somewhat muffled.
"Yes, Advisor." Buck held a tactical terminal in his hand, checking the coordinates. "According to intelligence, the fourth-generation... that man's home is here."
Luo Wei nodded, signaling to proceed.
Yellow biohazard warning lines were quickly drawn, keeping the curious rats that were peeking out of the area out.
Then, Lo Wei pushed open the somewhat deformed iron gate.
Surprisingly, the inside of the container was not as disgustingly dirty and messy as the outside.
Although the furniture was pieced together from industrial waste, the floor was spotless.
Several clean, tattered pieces of cloth were hanging on the wall as decoration.
In a corner by the entrance, there is a flowerpot made of discarded gears and wire.
A faded plastic flower was stuck in the flowerpot.
Luo Wei's gaze lingered on the plastic flower for a moment.
This is the fourth-generation hybrid:
A monster whose genes are etched with the instinct to kill and devour, in this desperate world, tries to maintain its "home" through clumsy imitation.
"Seal off this area. Conduct comprehensive disinfection according to the Level 2 biochemical contamination standards."
Lowe gave the order, his tone cold and hard.
The guards immediately dispersed.
The beeping of the Geiger counter broke the silence of the room.
The curtain to the inner room was lifted.
A thin woman was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Under the dim light, he was mending a large men's work jacket.
They saw this group of chemical defense soldiers barging in.
The woman dropped her needle and thread in terror and shrank back.
Luo Wei narrowed his eyes.
The clerk's keen professional observation skills allowed him to almost instantly capture a crucial detail:
In the instant the woman retreated in panic, her hands instinctively protected her abdomen.
There is a slight bulge there.
Luo Wei's gaze darkened.
This was a variable he had not anticipated.
A "bad debt" that may carry extremely high risks.
"Who...who are you? Where is my husband? He said he had to work overtime recently..." Mary's voice trembled, and she was on the verge of tears.
Lo Wei raised his hand.
He gestured for the guards with flamethrowers to retreat outside and wait, leaving only Buck by his side.
Then, he slowly removed the gas mask from his face.
Showing one's face is a high-risk behavior, but it is also the most efficient way to quickly eliminate suspicion and build trust.
"I am Lo Wei."
His tone was solemn, yet filled with compassion.
"Special Advisor on Agricultural Affairs, and Acting Director of the Seventh Grain Depot."
"Ms. Mary, it is with great regret that I inform you that your husband has been killed in a factory accident tonight."
Mary's eyes widened instantly.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
It was as if the soul of the person had been instantly ripped out.
"No...it's impossible...this can't be..."
Several seconds passed before she uttered broken murmurs.
"He promised me... he'd bring me real cookies tonight... not corpse starch... real cookies..."
Luo Wei took a transparent evidence bag out of his coat pocket.
Inside was the blood-stained diary.
For this moment, he specially had his diary thoroughly disinfected and sprayed with a little cheap synthetic perfume.
It was enough to mask the lingering smell of blood.
To mask the pheromone odor that belongs to the aliens.
"These are his belongings."
Luo Wei handed over the evidence bag.
They were weaving a perfect lie that they had prepared long ago.
"While he was salvaging a batch of fuel that was crucial to the grain silo, a pipe ruptured. The leaking high-temperature chemical vapors... instantly melted the area he was in."
"The body was unrecognizable. To prevent the spread of chemical contamination, we have carried out harmless disposal in accordance with regulations."
Died in the line of duty.
There was no body, only belongings.
This is a dignified gift left for the living, and a final fig leaf for the dead.
Mary reached out her hand, trembling, and took the bag.
Her movements were gentle, as if she were holding the most precious and fragile item in the world.
Through the plastic bag, she stroked the rough cover of the diary again and again with her fingers.
Tears slid silently down, dripping onto the plastic bag with a soft sound.
Suddenly, she looked up.
A clear light flashed in her previously sad and empty eyes.
"Sir, you're lying to me."
Buck, standing to the side, instinctively put his hand on the holster.
Luo Wei was also slightly startled.
"Why do you say that?" Luo Wei asked softly.
"I knew something was wrong with him."
Mary clutched her diary tightly and whispered to herself.
"He didn't eat the rationed corpse starch, he only drank water."
"At midnight, he would make strange noises into the ventilation ducts, like he was talking to someone, or like he was praying."
"His skin was always cold, even under the thickest blankets, even when I tried to warm him with my body..."
She lowered her head, looked at her swollen belly, and a miserable smile appeared on her face.
"My neighbors all say he's a mutant, a cursed being. But I don't care."
Mary looked up and stared directly into Rowe's eyes.
"Sir, do you know? Before I met him, I was kidnapped by the gang in the front district. They took turns raping me for three days and then dumped me on the roadside like trash. That's when my leg was broken."
"Those so-called 'normal people' looked at me like I was a piece of rotten meat, a damned burden."
"Only him... He's the only one who doesn't mind that I'm a cripple, doesn't mind that I'm dirty, and even brings me flowers."
"He's the only man who treats me like a 'human being'."