Chapter 47: Reality (1/5)

Chapter 47, Reality, 15

Hawk listened to the complaints around him and let out a slight sigh.

"Praise be to the God-Emperor; we are born sinners and must temper ourselves through suffering."

The missionary's voice echoed through the public transport's loudspeakers.

They were always this noisy, as if mere volume could make people believe their words.

The Emperor simply did not have that much time to pay attention to these madmen.

A slightly heretical thought drifted into Hawk's mind.

He knew such thoughts were disrespectful, but he could not help himself.

The priests claimed that the Emperor loved everyone, so why was the gap between people so vast?

Some possessed everything, while others had nothing at all.

Clearly, the Emperor could not possibly look after everyone.

Those fellows were merely using the Emperor's name to swindle and deceive.

Hawk turned his head to look out the window, gazing at the neon-flashing, cluttered, multi-layered hive city, his eyes growing increasingly lost.

He had no idea what the meaning of his birth was.

Endless work, a confined living space, and twelve hours of labor every day.

Aside from these, he seemed to possess nothing at all.

Yet the priests still insisted that they were happy.

Where on earth was this happiness?

Amidst Hawk's stray thoughts, the public transport stopped at a slightly dilapidated metal platform.

[Station 2 of Sector 36 has been reached. Passengers heading to Residential Area 2, please disembark at this station.]

The mechanical broadcast sounded, snapping Hawk out of his deep contemplation.

He hurried to his feet and walked toward the vehicle's doors.

The moment he stepped out of the vehicle, he heard a beep.

The transit credits for the public transport were directly deducted, transferring into the account of the Public Transportation Commission.

Citizens living in Hawk's hive world received a data chip upon reaching adulthood, which recorded their personal information and financial accounts.

This chip was not the private property of the citizen; it belonged to the Mechanicus.

The Mechanicus was responsible for maintaining all the machinery within the hive city, and all mechanical products fell under their purview.

The data chip was merely something rented to the citizens.

Upon a citizen's death, the Mechanicus would retrieve the corpse's chip, format it, and rent it out to someone else.

Hawk suspected that his data chip was at least two hundred years old, perhaps even older, having survived through at least three or four generations.

Much of the Imperium operated this way.

The service life of such items far exceeded that of ordinary human beings.

Coupled with the maintenance of the Mechanicus, these objects often lasted for centuries, or even millennia.

Having just stepped down from the vehicle, Hawk was jostled by an incoming passenger.

The other person did not apologize, walking straight into the carriage and finding a seat to sit down.

Hawk was long since accustomed to this.

In this cold, cruel, and oppressive world, everyone was equally numb.

Walking down a metal corridor that exuded a distinct metallic stench, Hawk heard a buzzing sound and looked up above him.

A luxurious private grav-car, engraved with the Imperium's two-headed eagle and a noble family crest, swept past overhead, weaving between the towering structures of the hive city.

Envy flashed in Hawk's gaze, and he watched the vehicle longingly until it disappeared from sight.

These private grav-cars were a luxury he could never afford in a lifetime of labor.

They belonged solely to the deeply rooted nobility.

Passing through the corridor connecting the metal platform and walking a few hundred meters further ahead brought him to the crowded residential area.

Here, people came and went in a bustling, noisy throng.

Some peddlers shouted to sell their wares: medicines, meat, alcohol, and contraband acquired through special channels.

In some places, floating projections displayed advertisements from various cartels or merchant guilds.

In darker corners stood gang members with various tattoos painted on their faces.

They often carried good items; given enough credits, they could procure high-powered plasma guns, well-maintained cybernetic limbs, or even various illicit drugs.

Law enforcement officers wove through the crowd, stopping every now and then before a peddler to demand their share of the cut.

To do business in the residential area, one had to pay taxes to the hive, a cut to the gangs, and a bribe to the law enforcers; only what remained was profit.

Each residential area was massive, easily accommodating millions of people.

Once individuals could legally work and earned an income, they were forcibly assigned a housing unit and required to pay rent.

One must not think of living with friends to save a little extra money.

The Gross family did not look kindly upon those who failed to support their real estate ventures; law enforcement agencies would come knocking, and apprehension meant imprisonment.

Starting a family and having children required upgrading one's living quarters, or else facing charges of child abuse.

Conversely, remaining childless would equally result in a criminal sentence.

What should one do if they had no work and no financial income?

They would end up like the fellow currently before Hawk, lying in a somewhat gloomy alcove, placing all their worldly possessions beside them, wrapping themselves in a tattered blanket to sleep, becoming a vagrant despised by the upper echelons, who wished nothing more than to have them humanely liquidated.

"Hey, Hawk." The vagrant caught sight of Hawk and flashed a smile.

"Hey, Barn."

Hawk greeted him, fumbled in his pockets for a moment, and tossed an energy bar to the other man.

"Thanks, may the God-Emperor bless you." Vagrant Barn unwrapped the energy bar, bit off half of it in a single motion, and expressed his muffled thanks.

"How is your leg doing?" Hawk walked over to the vagrant and asked.

"It's lost its flexibility and is hard to use. The Mechanicus said that maintaining it would cost twenty thousand to fix. If I'm willing to sell it, they can also recycle it, and the price is quite good. I've already made a plan; once I sell this mechanical leg and get a crutch to use, I'll be able to treat you to a good meal, Hawk."

Barn bared his cybernetic leg and patted it, producing a crisp metallic sound.

Barn was not a native of this planet; he had originally been a soldier garrisoned in another sector, transferred here due to the war, and when the conflict ended, he was left behind.

Initially, he could still survive on his military pension.

Later, the Gross family succeeded to the position of planetary governor of the Natal system, claiming that the systemic government was facing financial difficulties and could no longer sustain it. They urged retired veterans to continue embodying the spirit of loyalty to the Emperor and canceled their pensions.

Having lost his source of income, Barn had no choice but to take to the streets.

"You're already struggling enough; wouldn't getting a crutch make things even harder to endure?" Hawk asked. "Perhaps you could ask the black market merchants; their prices are much lower, even if the goods might not be of the best quality."

"Don't try to persuade me, Hawk. I've lived for forty years, participated in over twenty wars, and seen Orks and Tyranids. I've had my fill. I don't want to live without dignity like this anymore. I used to be a warrior, but now I wander around begging for food like a beggar."

Barn's words left Hawk momentarily stunned, reminding him of some unsettling possibilities.

"Are you going to commit suicide, Barn?"

"Yes, I've had enough. I enlisted when I was seventeen, and I've fought the Emperor's wars all my life. I have enough medals to cover my entire body. But now I'm just a homeless beggar, and my honor can't even buy me a mouthful of food."

"Once I sell this mechanical leg, we'll go eat something good, and then you can collect my corpse. Put my medals and my body together; they are the only things I have. The remaining money, if there is any left, will be yours."

Listening to Barn's words, Hawk opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Suicide was nothing new; people took their own lives every day.

The despairing, those who had crossed the gangs, those who had offended the nobility.

The reasons were myriad.

Living in such an oppressive world, suicide was a form of release.

"I'm heading back." Hawk fled as if escaping, unwilling to continue discussing such a heavy topic with Barn.

Dragging his exhausted body, Hawk returned to his cramped, mere thirty-square-meter dwelling.

The room was dilapidated and cold, the wooden flooring severely worn, and the walls had lost any trace of their former appearance, bearing only glossy white patches.

The creaking ventilation fan shook its oil-stained blades, expelling the stale air and drawing in the equally wretched air from outside.

Hawk turned on his battered holographic projector.

Before the official broadcast began, an advertisement played first.

[Brave citizens of the Imperium, fill yourselves with passion once more! Believe in the happy life brought to you by the Gross family. The holy and great Emperor once said that a worker should die at his workstation, not on his sickbed. The Gross family proudly introduces our brand-new Vitality-1 Elixir, designed to stimulate the human nervous system and make you feel full of energy once again.]

[Tired from staying up late to work without spirit? Drink the Vitality-1 Elixir. Is your wife dissatisfied? Drink the Vitality-1 Elixir. Sick and lacking strength all over? Drink the Vitality Elixir.]

[Look for the Gross Vitality-1 Elixir, guaranteed to keep you full of vigor.]

(End of Chapter)