He filled a bowl with porridge, picked up five pieces of bread, and sat down at an empty table, stretching his aching body.
His newfound physical strength had made him feel great, fueling his relentless work ethic.
Now, relaxing, he realized his entire body felt uneasy.
“Looks like I’ll have to take a break this afternoon,” Old John thought, otherwise, he’d have no one to blame but himself if his body collapsed.
With his porridge, Old John devoured a piece of bread in a few bites, finishing it quickly before taking his bowl to the window to queue.
While queuing, he sipped his thin porridge, still somewhat incredulous that the water in it was purified water.
Pure starch and purified water — for Old John, this was practically a luxury.
That bowl of porridge he’d just eaten cost more than a year’s worth of goods he could carry in the lower hive.
These days, the food he ate was more expensive than he was, not to mention that magical pocket watch.
The angel’s servant had told him when he gave him the pocket watch that as long as he didn’t make mistakes at work, it would be a bonus.
At that moment, only one thought occupied his mind: Loyalty!
Honesty!
He’d be willing to do anything, even murder a nobleman, let alone move goods!
As he thought this, Old John suddenly realized that the aches and pains throughout his body seemed to be easing.
In just a short while, the discomfort lessened considerably.
Holy crap!
Stimms!
Old John had heard of things that could quickly relieve muscle pain.
Although he couldn’t afford them, that didn’t stop him from fantasizing about how comfortable they would feel.
This felt almost exactly as he’d imagined.
If he’d had this stuff back then, he could have carried three times the cargo volume a day!
Now the cafeteria was even providing it for free — he could never repay the angel’s kindness!
As for whether it might be vitamins?
Old John didn’t even dare to think about it; that was beyond his comprehension.
Huron, of course, wasn’t as ruthless as Old John imagined.
The porridge was simply mixed with vitamin tablets, just like before.
As a nano-therapy agent, minor problems like muscle strains were naturally within its scope of application.
And a civilian factory could only produce one type of consumer product, so there was no way to allocate production.
Producing 1 billion units of vitamin tablets a day would leave them with some left over after paying wages.
The warp routes in the Maelstrom region were unpredictable and volatile.
A single trade run was measured in years, a return cycle that left Huron speechless.
Instead of relying on foreign trade to absorb excess production capacity, why not just add it directly to the workers’ rations as a nutritional supplement to improve their health?
After all, consuming carbohydrates every day without anything else can easily lead to problems.
While vitamins aren’t actually vitamins, they can convert starch into other nutrients, maintaining stable vital signs.
Even disregarding Huron’s worldview ingrained from his previous life, he already considered the entire Badab to be his own.
Giving his own people some benefits is no big deal; it’s not like he can’t do it.
Of course, only Huron thought this way.
Odinson, unaware of the truth, felt like the sky was falling as he looked at the daily consumption statistics.
If it weren’t for the fact that the Chapter Master could produce massive amounts of supplies every day, he would have desperately pleaded with Huron to lower the welfare levels.
Even the Chapter’s serfs couldn’t manage to eat vitamin pills as food before; now these workers were doing it.
However, Huron naturally wouldn’t favor one over the other.
Of the remaining two civilian factories, one was used to produce “gene enhancers.”
This stuff could only be produced for 100,000 units per day, making it extremely precious.
Its effects were naturally impressive, comprehensively enhancing human functions; it was a special resource for special operations units like the Tempestus Scions.
Over the past few days, they had produced enough for over a million people.
Huron, naturally, wouldn’t hoard it for breeding; each Chapter serf was fed a two-person dose.
This stuff could be taken multiple times to enhance its effects, but the subsequent enhancements would decrease.
A typical Tempestus Scion only needed a two- to three-times dose.
However, Huron didn’t care.
It was practically free; if they could eat it, so be it.
System: I have no objection.
However, if other nobles saw this, they would probably be heartbroken.
Leaving aside the expensive and extremely difficult-to-purchase gene enhancers, even inexpensive vitamin pills were still real resources.
The expensive vitamin pills were simply handed out to the poorest of the poor — what a waste!
Thanks to the vitamin pills, the entire project maintained a high level of efficiency.
Otherwise, even with the system boosting work enthusiasm, the actual strain on the body couldn’t be mitigated.
In fact, under the combination of high-intensity physical labor and the potent vitamin pills, many people actually became stronger.
It just goes to show that technology and grueling work are good for people.
Time passed, and a month later, the reaction zone of the super-large starch factory was almost complete.
Since the equipment was readily available, trial operation had begun.
Meanwhile, the energy zone, feeding zone, control zone, and the transportation channels between them were under construction at a rapid pace.
Old John, who had always been diligent, was summoned to the management office for questioning.
“Become a servant of the Angel?
Me…
me?” Old John looked at the manager with a mixture of surprise and trepidation.
The manager had just told him that after evaluation, he could become a member of the “Chapter Auxiliary Army” for training.
He didn’t know what a “Chapter Auxiliary Army” was, but he understood it was an organization managed by angels, where he could frequently see angels and even potentially become one himself!
But he didn’t understand what was so special about him that made him a darling of the angels.
If it was about effort, his hundred or so teammates were just as hardworking, and other teams were about the same; if it was about results, there were plenty of people more capable than him, some were like miniature Ogryns, lifting a ton of weight without batting an eye.
Seeing his nervousness, the administrator reassured him, “If you really can’t figure it out, just attribute it to luck.
There will be more selections later; you were just lucky to be chosen in the first batch.”
“Then…
what will I be doing then?” Seeing the administrator’s kindness, Old John relaxed and became somewhat curious.
The manager considered the Chapter’s orders: “Probably doing similar work to what I’m doing.”
Old John was so frightened that he fell to his knees with a thud, only to be pulled up by the manager: “What’s wrong with you?”
“M-Sir, can I become someone like you?” Old John’s voice trembled.
This was the highest-ranking officer he’d ever met in his life.
Not only could he command a PDF regiment, but he could also chat and laugh with a priest of the Mechanicus.
Old John had even seen him accompany the Angel on a site inspection.
The manager understood, somewhat speechless: “The work I’m doing is all hard labor; you’ll see when the time comes.”
Good heavens, he was originally a captain in an artillery company of the Chapter’s serfs, but Odinson, seeing that the army had few tasks and was short-staffed, pulled him in to do management work.
He couldn’t wait for these people to get to work so he could return to his original post.
Especially hearing that the Chapter Master was reorganizing the Chapter’s serfs, he figured he could get promoted, maybe even become an Astartes reserve.