Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming

Chapter 4 Hydroponic Farm

As the last bit of current surged into his body.

The battery icon in the upper right corner of Andy's vision finally turned into a reassuring solid green.

100%.

That feeling of weakness, like the system might crash at any moment, vanished instantly.

Instead, it offers the clarity that comes from the core processor running at full power.

Andy even felt that his thinking speed had increased.

He pulled the data probe off his finger to examine the still-flashing STC signal source.

[Standard Construction Template - Fragment: Beta-Level Hydroponic Farm]

Status: Standby

[Expected output: High-calorie starch blocks, vitamin synthesis agents, purified water.]

These words were more tempting to Andy than any explosive gun or power armor.

In Warhammer 40K's lair, food is hard currency, and clean food is the hardest currency of all.

The common people at the bottom of the empire usually eat corpse starch.

You can tell what it's made of just by its name: recycled dead people, mixed with all sorts of fillers and preservatives, and pressed into hard, solid bricks.

That stuff tastes like a mixture of stale oil and sand, and long-term consumption can lead to various forms of chronic poisoning.

Even so, the bottom-nest people could go completely mad for a mouthful of corpse starch.

At this point, a hydroponic farm that could produce green plants and clean starch meant that Andy could establish a real base in this godforsaken place.

Only when you are well-fed can you have the strength to mine, smelt steel, and work on the production line.

The STC in Andy's mind is just a database, while the so-called STC fragments outside often refer to hardware carriers containing some production data, or black box facilities that can be used directly.

More importantly, the industrial environment in Warhammer 40K was terrible.

Although Andy has hundreds of thousands of blueprints ranging from "fully automated photosynthesis factories" to "planetary-level agricultural ecosystems," he can't mold them now. Even a single screw is beyond STC's current processing standards.

This fragment of a "beta-level hydroponic farm" likely contains an adaptive production hardware system, or at least a low-end blueprint that can run on current scrap materials, which is exactly what Andy urgently needs.

Therefore, he was determined to get this STC fragment.

Andy put away the data cable and pushed open the heavy explosion-proof door of the energy room.

The air in the hall was no longer so suffocating.

The air circulator that Andy had repaired was running smoothly, emitting a reassuring hum.

The refugees, who had been listless, now seemed to have regained some spirit, and some children even started running around in the corners.

This is the power of oxygen.

Gamma-9 remained respectfully guarding the door, still holding the broken card reader used for swiping cards. When it saw Andy come out, its one eye immediately lit up.

"Sage, have you finished your meditation?"

Gamma-9 leaned closer, his tone full of anticipation.

He now believes that Andy had some kind of high-dimensional spiritual communication with the Omniscient One inside.

Andy glanced at him and nodded.

It seems that maintaining an air of mystery is the best way to control these charlatans.

Andy's gaze swept across the hall, finally landing on the guards patrolling in the corner, carrying iron pipes and homemade spears.

too weak.

Since they've decided to settle in this shelter and are even going to lead a team out to find STC, this kind of defensive force is practically suicide.

"Take me to the armory."

Andy's voice was cold.

Gamma-9 was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed.

The Sage is about to bestow a blessing upon our military!

He eagerly led the way, leading Andy to a locked iron cage on the other side of the hall.

"This is our sacred arsenal, which contains holy weapons collected by priests throughout the ages."

As Gamma-9 spoke, it used a huge set of keys to open the cage.

Andy went inside and took a look.

His core logic almost went wrong on the spot.

Is this what you call an armory?

This is clearly the defective goods section of a scrap metal recycling station.

There were seven or eight laser guns on the shelf, along with several live-fire automatic guns and a pile of rusty chainsaw swords.

Andy casually picked up a laser gun.

Good guy.

The gun's heat dissipation vents were sealed tightly with red prayer wax, and even the battery interface was coated with a thick layer of grease.

The Mechanicus has an extremely absurd logic: they believe that heat is the wrath of the machine spirit, and if the heat dissipates too quickly, the machine spirit will catch a cold.

Therefore, they like to block the heat dissipation vents, euphemistically calling it "keeping the machine's soul warm".

If this gun is fired ten times in a row, the barrel will definitely overheat and explode.

Andy picked up another automatic gun.

This one is even more outrageous; the barrel is full of sand, fine, golden sand.

"What is this?" Andy asked Gamma-9, pointing to the sand.

Gamma-9 said with a devout expression, "This is sacred lubricating sand, Your Excellency. Each grain of sand has undergone three binary prayers to make the bullets run more smoothly when fired."

God™ Holy Lubricating Sand.

Pouring sand into the gun barrel—is that because they think the barrel isn't wearing out fast enough?

Andy's blood pressure is soaring.

It's a miracle that these people have survived this long, or maybe those mutants are just too weak.

"Take all this trash out of me."

Andy threw the sand-filled automatic gun onto the table with a loud bang.

Gamma-9 was startled: "Sage, these are..."

"dismantle."

Andy only said one word.

He stretched out his metal hands, his movements so fast they left afterimages in the air.

Click, click.

In less than ten seconds, the automatic gun was disassembled into a pile of parts.

Andy picked up the recoil spring and pointed to the rust and the reversed buckle.

"The spring is installed backwards, the firing pin is badly worn, and there's all this damn sand."

As Andy spoke, he picked up a rag and began frantically wiping the parts.

There was no holy oil, no prayers.

Only the purest form of violent cleaning.

He poured all the sand on the ground and pried off and threw away all the red wax blocks.

Gamma-9 watched with trepidation.

In his eyes, Andy's behavior was blasphemous and would invite divine punishment from the God of Machines.

But as Andy's fingers moved swiftly, the parts were reassembled.

Click.

The final, crisp snapping sound rang out.

A clean, unadorned automatic gun appeared in Andy's hand.

Andy pulled the bolt.

"Snap!"

The sound was crisp and clear, without any hesitation or extraneous noise.

The beautiful sound of metal clashing shut Gamma-9 up instantly.

Although it didn't have the scent of any holy oil, the killing intent emanating from this gun was now more than ten times stronger than before.

Just as Andy was about to throw the gun to the Gamma-9 so he could try it out.

"Ugh—!!!"

A piercing alarm suddenly blared throughout the hall.

This is not a machine malfunction alarm.

It's an external intrusion alert.

The refugees in the hall instantly erupted in chaos, screams filling the air.

A sentry covered in blood stumbled in from outside, shouting as he ran:

"The Skinners! It's the Skinners gang!"

"They blew open the outer door! They stormed in!"

The Skinners Gang.

These are the most notorious predators in the bottom nest. They like to skin their victims and hang the skin on their bodies as decoration, both as a deterrent and as a kind of perverse totem.

Gamma-9 dropped the scepter in his hand to the ground, his previous Mechanicus demeanor vanished instantly, and he trembled like a leaf.

"It's over... it's over..."

"Our guards can't stop them..."

The hall was in chaos, with everyone running around like headless flies.

In this extreme chaos.

Only Andy stood there, motionless.

His perspective is changing.

The original engineering maintenance interface quickly faded away, revealing a dark red tactical analysis layer.

[Hostile target detected.]

Threat Level: Low.

[Battle Protocol: Activated.]

Although there are many different models of Iron Man, some are specifically for construction and some are specifically for scientific research.

But in the dark age of technology, even an iron man used to unclog toilets came with a complete database of individual combat data in his factory settings.

Because in that era, every iron man possessed general intelligence that was unimaginable to humans.

Andy looked up, and his electronic eyes, which had been flashing a soft blue light, suddenly turned a cold, scarlet red.

He carried the newly repaired automatic gun in one hand and moved the still-trembling Gamma-9 aside with the other.

"Shut up."

Andy's voice wasn't loud, but it carried throughout the hall through the loudspeakers, carrying an irresistible air of authority.

"Everyone, take cover behind the bunkers."

He turned around, facing the door that was about to be breached, and pulled the bolt.