Under the influence of the civilian factories—or rather, the System—the labor recruitment speed far exceeded Odinson’s wildest expectations.
Even by his most optimistic estimates, the process should have taken about a month.
In reality, it took less than a week to gather a hundred million laborers, even exceeding the quota.
Odinson didn’t turn anyone away; he accepted every extra soul.
Per the Chapter Master’s instructions, this project wasn’t just about expanding starch factories.
Increasing the Underhive residents’ trust in the Astral Claws was also a primary objective.
Furthermore, with the Chapter Master’s guarantee of ample supplies, Odinson incorporated the nearly two hundred million people into the labor force.
With nearly double the expected number of people, Odinson had thought the tens of thousands of chapter serfs he brought, along with the “grassroots autonomous organization” personnel he had forcibly requisitioned, would be overwhelmed.
To his surprise, everyone—including the conscripted Underhive residents—displayed unprecedented levels of efficiency.
The management staff were diligent because the God-Emperor’s Angels were truly watching them; the Underhive residents were equally apprehensive, having witnessed the strange behavior of the gangs and believing the Angels might indeed be observing from the shadows.
Everyone tried their best to prove themselves, causing the experimental management system to run quite smoothly despite being set up in a hurry.
The Underhive residents were first divided into groups and then registered.
Those without names were given designations.
Once the lists were completed, logistics printed ID badges using low-grade ceramite and distributed them.
The management staff felt that the average quality of these Underhive residents was suspiciously high.
Not only were there no sudden outbursts or troublemaking, but there weren’t even many who couldn’t understand basic instructions.
The PDF soldiers conscripted to the side found themselves with little to do other than occasionally maintaining order or giving directions to the lost.
With such high efficiency, everyone was registered and grouped in less than half a month.
Aside from the System’s assistance, another reason for this efficiency was that Huron and Odinson had agreed to use a large number of electronic products, achieving a semi-digitized office environment.
Although the Imperium’s fear of the Iron Men had led the lower classes to loathe and reject all electronic products and automated machinery, the nobility naturally wouldn’t abandon such convenient technology.
Taking Palatos Hive as an example, the Spire nobles not only had high-fidelity virtual pods, personal info-terminals shaped like pocket watches, and an internet that connected with other Hives, but they had also installed a vast network of surveillance equipment throughout the Upper Hive to monitor every aspect of life.
The Spires where the nobles lived naturally utilized a great deal of automation and information technology.
Fully intelligent furniture and narrow AI butlers were essentially standard.
Many nobles even possessed numerous humanoid robot servants, and their private armies were equipped with various types of drones.
While these mechanical servants looked hideous to Huron due to aesthetic differences, the technology within them was actually quite advanced.
The Astral Claws, having plundered many nobles, were naturally well-stocked in this department.
Consequently, the frontline management personnel were equipped with personal terminals loaded with narrow AI and connected to information databases.
This allowed even the “gibberish” of many Underhive residents to be identified as specialized local dialects, further boosting efficiency.
The collected information was transmitted directly through the network to cybernetica ceramite printers.
Logistics only needed to replenish materials and transport the finished ID badges to designated locations.
Other stages of the process were also accelerated, reducing a vast number of information-exchange hurdles.
Although construction hadn’t started even after a month, Odinson continued to provide the laborers with sufficient amounts of starch gruel every day.
These machine-made portions, while having an indescribable taste, were enough to fill their stomachs.
In addition, the starch gruel was supplemented with vitamins to improve the laborers’ health.
Otherwise, simply eating their fill every day would have been enough to kill a large number of malnourished Underhive residents.
Odinson ordered this to be publicized, driving the two hundred million laborers’ enthusiasm even higher.
The promised benefits were being delivered even before the work began—what would happen once they actually started?
Many had heard that the Angels might select high-performing laborers to be their servants.
Initially, they had come for the starch and vitamins, not believing a word of it.
Lowly Underhive trash like them, fit to serve the Angels?
That was the privilege of the Upper Hive lords and Spire nobles!
But now, they were starting to wonder.
What if it was true?
Once everything was ready, the two hundred million people were deployed to disassemble and transport factory equipment.
Palatos Hive, Middle Hive, Frost District, Watt Starch Factory.
Old John, who had received his ceramite ID badge, eaten his fill for over ten days, and consumed more than one unit of vitamins, was assigned to work here.
As an experienced veteran porter of the Underhive, he had been selected as the head of his hundred-man group.
The Angel’s servants had even given him a magical pocket watch.
When Old John led his team to the designated location following the route projected by the watch, the place was already a hive of activity.
Precision equipment had already been disassembled and moved by technical personnel among the chapter serfs and hired Mechanicus tech-adepts.
What remained were the rugged, heavy-duty machines that didn’t mind a few bumps.
The projection from Old John’s pocket watch changed, highlighting a pile of heavy components and pointing toward a large truck that had just pulled up beside him.
The driver was a Mechanicus servant.
She hopped out of the cab, her left eye—now a bionic lens—scanning Old John and his team.
“Quickly load the cargo onto the truck!
Do not waste time!”
Everyone looked at Old John.
Old John saw the projection envelop the Mechanicus servant, while the pocket watch emitted a voice: “Follow her instructions.”
“No problem.
Let’s get these things onto the truck.” Old John took the lead, rushing to the pile.
He lifted a component taller than himself, weighing two hundred kilograms, hauled it onto the truck, and set it down firmly.
He then ran back to the pile, not even out of breath.
After taking the vitamins gifted by the Angels, his various ailments had vanished.
He felt reborn; a mere two hundred kilograms was nothing to him now.
The others swarmed forward as well.
With the reward of “becoming a servant of the Angels” dangled before them, combined with the tangible benefits they had already received and the System’s influence, everyone was full of fervor, competing to be the fastest.
The Mechanicus servant estimated the group’s efficiency through her bionic eye and let out a satisfied smile.
At this rate, they would finish twenty minutes ahead of schedule.
She intended to ask these people later if they were willing to become Mechanicus servants like her and bask in the glory of the Omnissiah.
As the truck drove away, a new one pulled up.
The morning passed quickly, and Old John led his team to the canteen for lunch.