Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming

Chapter 9 Andy's Identity

Andy sat in the chair welded from scrap steel plates, with the Gamma-9 in front of him.

Gamma-9 knelt perfectly, his scalp touching the ground, not daring to raise his head.

After what happened today, he finally had the time to earnestly ask Andy who he really was.

This is normal. A metal man who can repair air purifiers in seconds, treat gangster squads like trash, and conjure food out of thin air—if he doesn't give an explanation, Gamma-9's brain will burn out sooner or later.

When you're out in the world, your identity is something you give yourself, and identity is a dangerous thing; you can easily run into big problems if you're not careful.

You can't say you're AI, that's a capital offense; you also can't simply say you're an ancient technology with self-awareness, that's also a capital offense.

The only way to survive and gain a high status is to be associated with the words "sacred," "ancient," and "emperor." The Mechanics rely entirely on archaeology for their understanding of technology, and the older and more sacred something is, the more awesome it is in their eyes.

After a brief moment of thought, Andy gave his answer:

"I am a self-regulating engineering unit left over from the Great Expedition by Om Messiah."

Andy's voice was calm and even, without any fluctuation.

"My code name is, Pioneer Angel."

"I am not bound by any dogma, because I am the embodiment of dogma."

Mmm, that's more like it.

Upon hearing Andy's explanation, Gamma-9's single eye instantly shone brightly, and its body trembled as if it had been electrified.

He had no doubts whatsoever.

Or rather, his brain's logic automatically filtered out the option of doubt.

In his view, Andy's technical prowess demonstrated today is the best proof.

Since Andy can do so many things that the Cult of Mechanics cannot, then he is God's chosen one, and whatever he says is right.

Andy, watching the increasingly frenzied Gamma-9, took the opportunity to ask about the planet.

The intelligence was quickly gathered.

This is Furnace-7, located on the edge of the Hazy Starfield.

This place is terrible, terrible in a perfectly good way.

The Empire's main fleet was busy fighting at the Eye of Terror and had no time to spare for this godforsaken industrial world.

The planetary governor here is a good-for-nothing who only hides in the upper hive and throws smut parties. The administrative system below has long since collapsed, and the lower hive is completely dominated by gangs and mutants.

As long as Andy doesn't cause a planet-destroying event, no one will bother with him.

This is the perfect start for an Ironman who needs to develop.

The first essential element of the great cause of farming is environmental safety.

In Holy Terra or Macurag, Andy would be annihilated by the Imperial Guard or Ultramarines if he dared to show his face. But in this lawless frontier world, as long as you have enough power and can feed people, you are the local tyrant.

Andy began to renovate the shelter.

First and foremost, it's about people.

Three hundred and forty-two refugees—that's all Andy currently owns.

These people were a burden before, but now they are a source of labor.

Andy abolished all rituals involving prayer, sacrifice, and anointing. He established a new rule: no work, no food.

This rule is simple and straightforward, and it works better than any religious dogma.

Andy divided the people into three groups.

The first group was a scavenging team, consisting of strong men whose task was to scavenge metal, plastic, and electronic components from the ruins outside.

The second group is the purification team, consisting of the elderly, women, and children, whose task is to clean up the shelters.

This group of people was responsible for cleaning up all the feces, garbage, and human bones that had accumulated over hundreds of years. After all, the sanitary environment was directly related to the health of the workers. In this place where medical care and medicine were scarce, a single bout of dysentery could reduce Andy's workforce by half.

The third group was the engineering team, consisting of Gamma-9 and a few apprentices who knew a little about the technology.

The engineering team had the heaviest workload.

Andy wants to expand production capacity; for example, the iron bucket used to cook starch balls is too small and simply not enough to meet demand.

Andy had the construction team bring in three abandoned oil storage tanks.

These jars are everywhere in the bottom nest; once the residue inside is cleaned out, they become ready-made reaction vessels.

Andy used the STC database to provide the simplest modification solution.

No precision machining is required; all you need are a few heating rods, a few stirring motors, a simple self-sustaining environment, and the control of that black box.

Three days later, three enormous, standard-issue bioreactors stood in the center of the hall.

The production of starch balls also skyrocketed to two tons per day.

Although this stuff doesn't taste very good and has a texture like chewing some kind of gelatin, it provides a lot of calories.

For the bottom-nest people who grew up eating corpses, this was already a delicacy.

Many people misunderstand STC, thinking that STC only builds high-tech weapons that can destroy the world.

In fact, the greatest strength of STC lies in its backward compatibility.

It can provide an optimal low-end industrial solution based on the waste materials you have on hand, and build an automated production line from scrap iron and rubber pipes. This is the true value of the technology of the Golden Age.

Once production capacity increased, Andy began upgrading his tools.

The refugees were still carrying scrap metal by hand and breaking steel bars with stones.

The efficiency is outrageously low.

Andy pulled up tool blueprints from the 20th century.

Handcart, crowbar, entrenching tool.

In Andy's previous life, even elementary school students knew the principles behind these things.

But this knowledge isn't even widely available here.

When Andy used a freshly polished crowbar to easily pry up a slab of stone weighing several tons using the lever principle, the people around him looked at him as if he were a magician.

When the first handcart equipped with bearings and rubber wheels was built, and a thin boy pushed two hundred kilograms of ore with great speed, the entire shelter was in an uproar.

In just one week, the shelter has changed.

The once dark, dirty, and despair-filled refugee camp is gone.

Instead, a production base that is already taking shape has been established.

Everyone had a handy tool in their hand. Although their bodies were still unclean and their faces were still greasy, at least they had some spirit.

But the problem also followed.

Andy stood in front of the control panel, looking at the energy monitoring screen in front of him.

The red warning lines are almost fully drawn.

[Warning: Power grid load is 92%.]

[Warning: Unstable voltage. It is recommended to disconnect some devices.]

That old geothermal generator has reached its limit.

It couldn't power three high-powered reactors, let alone the automatic sentry turret that Andy wanted to build.

To develop, we need electricity.

Andy pulled up STC's planetary scan map.

Fifty kilometers underground in this shelter lies a massive high-energy reaction point.

[Marked as: Planetary-level geothermal hub (backup node)]

That point of light was ten thousand times brighter than this broken generator.

If they could take that place, Andy would gain access to almost limitless energy and could even restart those ancient production lines deeper within the bottom nest.

But next to that spot of light, STC marked a bright red skull.

[Extremely Dangerous: High-energy biological activity detected. Heavy weapons recommended.]