Warhammer: Start with a dog

Chapter 321 But I'm Not Really a Dog

Chapter 321 But I am not a real dog...

The crown of the night shines like a black diamond.

The footsteps of the king of the night bring death silently.

His long hair smells good.

His face smells bad.

His claws are sharp.

He was so reluctant when he was told to "try to develop new food" with Ramezane - his own body.

But stretching fingers to knead starch dough like kneading blood and flesh mud, pouring acid to make curd cheese, whipping margarine and egg whites, beating dough and sifting synthetic starch or synthetic frosting are so fascinating...

Then, the eighth primarch Konrad Curze, the cat master who used blood to stick his hair and flesh to stuff his nails, crawled darkly and twistedly, and was known for eating his son alive and skinning him, stayed in the newly built kitchen ordered by Ramezane for eight hours, playing (of course, he stated that "he helped my Eighth Legion so I am just repaying this debt") and having a lot of fun.

Until a sheepdog owner and ninja who had just returned from a meeting with Macharion, Dietrian, Aeneas, and Gallus discovered this and screamed again: "(Gutai swear), even if you are a pig, you have to drink water and eat on time! ! ! Do you know how difficult it is to deal with a cat's urinary system once it has problems?!"

(*But I'm not really a dog...)

"How long ago was the last time you drank water?!"

(*...Nine or ten hours ago, I don't remember, it doesn't matter.)

"Come! Drink water! And this is the good stuff I brought you from Valer's new laboratory while I was inspecting after the meeting."

Put in front of Koz along with the bowl of water was-

a handful of young leaves of some genetically engineered crops that were juicy, fresh, and green, and pleasing to the eye.

(*……What is this? Even if I don’t consider my own taste, the species in the real universe that I am using now at least doesn’t eat this kind of plant food. I know, don’t try to fool me.)

“Really? Then don’t you have any knowledge about ‘cats need to eat cat grass to stay healthy’?”

(*……(The thought is gradually being led astray))

“What’s more, I specifically asked Valer to improve your taste. Well, there’s a surprise after you take a bite!”

(*……Surprise……Is this how surprise is used?)

The tip of the black and white long-haired cat’s nose moved suspiciously, and the tip of its tail also moved.

(*Well, then, I'll be merciful and give you a bite.)

"No problem... Hey, I knew you would like it. No cat can refuse. Valer did a great job. Let me think about what crops to let him study next time..."

——————————

(*I remember you said it's not good to open champagne at halftime.) When he finally remembered the serious business after the joy, and raised his head from the compound catnip wheat seedlings that he had almost chewed, Conrad Coz said this indignantly.

Across the large kitchen island, Ramy Zane was wearing an oversized kitchen apron over a short toga, and shoveled out more hand-made brown pancakes from the oven with a spatula under the admiring eyes of the mutant slaves around him.

It is almost round in shape, with a tough bottom and burnt edges, and a thick layer of Astarte's special nutrient paste on top. It is now a little melted and bubbling, and then sprinkled with some precious cut Solanaceae fruits from the hydroponic farm and a little green mint embellishment - even if it is the 41st millennium modified wheat seedling catnip, it is still mint!

"How is the amino acid oatmeal porridge?! - It's not good to open champagne at halftime, but if we can't afford to celebrate, at least we have to ensure that there is a hot meal and hot water during the celebration. People on the ground can't get the food materials for the Astartes, but these are crucial to everyone's morale."

(*This is nonsense. I have never heard of any veteran or senior officer - even Malcharion, who was also an officer known for his mastery of war skills in the Great Crusade 10,000 years ago. He wrote so many theoretical works and poems on war, and never mentioned this in them - it's just a meal that was not cooled down. There is no blessing from the Sea of ​​Souls, and no combat stimulants from the Mechanicus. How can ordinary food have such a magical effect?)

"Oh? Don't believe it? Then do you want to do it yourself? Have you used your second sight to see the effects they will cause?"

(*There is no need to use my second sight for such a small matter that can be seen quickly... Didn't you teach me not to rely too much on it to make decisions, otherwise I will become like the 15th Legion?)

"Oh, when I was teaching you, didn't someone say that he didn't want to listen or learn, and that nothing was better than a direct and quick final solution, because that could solve the problem from human instinct? It turns out that not only did he remember it, but he actually followed it! You are such a smart and practical cat!"

(*Hey! I didn't! I just... gurgle gurgle gurgle...)

Lami Zane smiled and moved his finger covered with corpse starch from Conrad Cat Curze's furry chin and tapped his nose. The latter sneezed and looked like he was about to explode.

"By the way, when you were having fun here (*I didn't play! (hissing breath)) so much fun and hard that you forgot the meeting time I told you to go to, and didn't respond to my subsequent call, do you want to listen to the content of our meeting just now?"

(*What? Didn't you go to discuss with that group of slaves...mortals and captives how to turn the sand and how to use the pointy-eared alien?)

"Oh, yes and no, you know, when we decided to develop agriculture, agriculture is certainly not as simple as it seems."

(*You sound as if you really want to teach our Eighth Legion how to work like a farmer. Are you trying to teach a group of criminals? , scum, thieves, robbers and murderers or worse criminals, learn agricultural labor? To be large animals and farm machinery, the physique and character of the captives are more suitable, *sneer* more in line with their nature. )

"Then it seems that I should indeed talk about it."

——————————

About a few hours ago, the rebuilt conference hall in the underground catacombs of the Arctic of Tessaguarza

"So water alone is not enough."

Everyone attending the meeting sat in their seats a little stiffly. There were additional promethium lamps in front of mortals and other Astartes, and the old and new owners of the planet spoke at the top, looking very excited.

The Lord of the Night, who was sitting at the head, pointed out seriously, "First of all, do you know that this place is all desert?"

The people at the meeting blinked in confusion.

"My Lord." Regent Gallus had to stare at several murderous eyes because of his urgent personal involvement and spoke tremblingly first.

"It's true that this is all desert, but we have rain, right? You have brought us the rain, and the sect led by the priestess Sandra is eager to pay homage to you..."

"Wrong. Rain will not bring a good harvest."

"Wrong? My Lord." The old man shrank back, he almost cried. "Can't the rain save us? Is this the punishment we must suffer..."

"But it's not your fault. After all, you have been working in hydroponic farms for more than four centuries. - You really don't know that the desert cannot store water and nutrients, so even if there is rain, plants cannot be grown in the desert, let alone crops with higher requirements."

"So what we are going to talk about next is..."

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