Chapter 116: The Underwear Warrior

Wang Ming delivered one resounding slap after another to Mortarion’s face. Each strike generated a massive shockwave, with golden flames spreading from the impact to the surrounding Nurgle daemons and Plague Marines.

These golden flames were lethal to the minions of Nurgle. Even a single spark landing upon them caused their bodies to be instantly consumed. The karmic fire of humanity’s collective consciousness obliterated their very essence, utterly destroying the daemons and Plague Marines. The golden fire spread through the Nurgle host like ignited gasoline, turning the daemons and warriors into nothingness.

"False Emperor!" Mortarion roared in fury as he watched his progeny reduced to void by the golden flames.

Mortarion lunged at Wang Ming with claws bared, only to be smashed to the ground by another thunderous slap.

"I am no longer your son!"
*Smack!*

"My master, Nurgle!"
*Smack!*

"You—"
*Smack!!*

Mortarion was stunned, utterly unable to resist. Every time he struggled to his feet to attack, another earth-shattering slap would land squarely on his face.

"Do you have nothing else besides this?!" Mortarion bellowed in collapse, having lost count of how many times he had been leveled.

"Oh, sure." Wang Ming smiled at Mortarion, withdrew his hand, and reached toward his waist.

*An opening!* Seeing the hand retract, Mortarion sensed his chance. He quickly drew the vial of virus prepared by the Grandfather for Wang Ming and thrust it toward Wang Ming's neck. Having removed his helmet earlier—perhaps finding it uncomfortable to deliver slaps while wearing it—Wang Ming had provided the perfect opportunity.

*Smack!*

Just as the needle was about to pierce his neck, Wang Ming caught Mortarion’s arm, freezing the syringe in mid-air.

"A little gift from Nurgle, is it?" Wang Ming said with a smile, holding Mortarion’s arm. He then kicked the Primarch away, catching the syringe as it flew from Mortarion’s grip. "I'll take this off your hands."

Wang Ming looked at the water-bottle-sized syringe, pulled off the needle, and downed the viral solution.

"What?" Mortarion watched in utter confusion. *Why did he drink it? What is happening?*

"Not bad, though it lacks a bit of a kick." Wang Ming walked toward Mortarion as if nothing had happened.

"You... you... don't come any closer!" Mortarion retreated, haunted by the memory of those affectionate slaps.

"Well, time's up. I’m a man of my word. Let's continue our father-son chat next time; I have another child to deal with now." Wang Ming stood before the terrified Mortarion and said regretfully. The Emperor, having enjoyed five minutes of fun, finally returned control of the body to Wang Ming.

"Oh, my aching head! What happened? Why is my mouth so bitter? Damn it, Emperor! What did you do with my body? And where is my helmet?" Wang Ming awoke from his slumber. Though only five minutes had passed, it felt like a millennium. He felt as if ten thousand Custodians were crawling all over him; it was unbearable.

"Wait? Mortarion? Where is my sword?" Seeing Mortarion still cowering in the wake of the Emperor’s "lesson," Wang Ming hurriedly drew his golden greatsword. "Wait, something is wrong with Mortarion."

He noticed Mortarion’s state: like a wayward youth who had been disciplined by his father, his face was a mask of shock and terror. Incidentally, Mortarion’s respirator had been reduced to shards under the Emperor’s loving slaps.

"No weapon. I'll take this chance to kill him." Wang Ming raised his sword and brought it down.

Mortarion, however, was not foolish. Seeing the sword, he quietly used his psychic powers to open a Warp portal, intending to retreat to Nurgle’s realm. He knew that in his current state, he could not possibly fight Wang Ming. His weapons were gone, and the slaps had inflicted deep trauma upon his ten-thousand-year-old "young" heart. Plus, the virus had proved useless. What was the point of fighting?

As the blade fell, Mortarion slipped into the portal and fled back to the Garden of Nurgle at top speed. Wang Ming’s strike missed, the golden blade cleaving the ground and causing an explosion of flying rock and dust. He stared at the crater, feeling a pang of regret.

After watching the spot where Mortarion had vanished, Wang Ming walked over to Li Yongkang, who had been watching the family drama. It was time to fulfill his promise to end Li’s suffering.

"May your soul return to the Golden Throne." Wang Ming raised his sword, golden flames dancing along the edge.

"My fellow countryman from Earth, you know that is basically impossible. But thank you for the blessing. Do it." Li Yongkang smiled with his distorted face. He was grateful for the words, even though both knew the prospect was unrealistic.

"Sigh... what is your name?" Wang Ming asked.

"Li Yongkang. 'Yong' for eternity, 'Kang' for health."

Wang Ming nodded and swung the greatsword toward Li Yongkang’s head. The blade, wreathed in golden flames, moved like a streak of light, severing the bloated neck. The soul from another world had died in a foreign land, in this wretched universe. He was unfortunate—spotted by the Emperor only to be snatched by a Ruinous Power—but he was also lucky; his soul would be utterly consumed by the karmic fire of humanity, spared from the soul-sea ravaged by the Dark Gods.

"Farewell, our compatriot." Wang Ming stood silent for a long time, watching the body burn. This was the first death of an Earth compatriot he had witnessed, and it had been by his own hand.

While he stood in a daze, Hu Jin arrived with the second group of transmigrators, accompanied by Edwy and Kroyas Rengar. Kroyas’s wounds were under control, and he was slowly recovering. Wang Ming pulled a funerary urn from the shop interface and carefully collected the soil where Li Yongkang’s body had rested.

"Li Yongkang, a human." Wang Ming typed the words onto the urn's electronic display. Li Yongkang was a human, and he would remain a human; no matter how the Warp gods twisted his flesh, he had held fast to his identity. He handed the urn to Hu Jin, telling him to keep it safe so that when they found the way home, they could bury their countryman in his homeland.

Meanwhile, in the Warp, a green consciousness and a golden one vied for a fragment of a soul. The golden consciousness prevailed, snatching the fragment and carrying the poor soul to a great blue orb of light. The soul would be under the Emperor’s protection, even if it were only a fragment.

Perspective shifted to a defensive line on the world of Gobey. It was a position held by an Imperial Guard regiment that had arrived before the "Star Travelers," having fought Nurgle’s forces alongside the locals for three months.

"Laust! Laust! Wake up!" In the field hospital, Laust lay on a cot, surrounded by Wang Xiaofa and several other transmigrators. Lair sat by his side, delivering slap after slap to Laust’s face, trying to rouse him.

The transmigrators remembered their first encounter with this Imperial Guard sergeant. When they had arrived to provide support, they had witnessed an unforgettable scene: a naked guardsman holding only a pair of underpants, pinning a Plague Marine to the ground and suffocating it to death with the garment. The transmigrators had been so stunned they recorded the footage for future research.

Commissar Kelt stood nearby, swallowing hard as he looked at the silver-armored Astartes.

"I'm back... no limbs missing, but why does my face hurt?" Laust finally woke up under Lair's slaps. His first instinct was to check his body parts. Fortunately, they were intact; the "old meat" hadn't mangled him too badly.

"Wait, who are these people?" Laust asked, seeing the transmigrators for the first time.

"You're awake? How do you feel?" Wang Xiaofa looked at the sergeant with complex emotions. He considered this man who had strangled a Plague Marine with his underwear to be a true agent of the Emperor.

"Honored Astartes, greetings." Laust scrambled off the cot and performed the Aquila.

Wang Xiaofa nodded, helped him up, and handed him a data slate. "Sergeant Laust, can you explain how you managed that?"

Laust watched the video on the slate: himself, the "Underwear War God," pinning a Plague Marine and then running naked across the battlefield, chased by a horde of enemies.

*That old bastard!* Laust cursed internally a thousand times. When that entity had taken over his body, it had been far too uninhibited—the behavior was more ridiculous than any patient in a hive-city asylum.

"Sir, I... I really don't know. I passed out on the battlefield. I have no memory of this; I was completely unconscious." Laust told the truth. He couldn't lie to an Astartes standing on his doorstep.

"Hmm." Wang Xiaofa simply nodded and walked away. After giving Laust one last deep look, he uploaded the video to the communication terminal.

On a transport plane, Wang Ming was mourning over Li Yongkang’s urn when his terminal chimed. He and the others opened the message.

"What the hell!" Wang Ming stared at the screen, nearly dropping the urn. Edwy, standing beside him, reacted quickly and caught it.

"Holy cow, what is this? The Underwear War God?" Edwy leaned over to look, almost dropping the urn herself as she saw a naked man strangling a Chaos Astartes with a pair of boxers.

"This... this is a bit too uninhibited, isn't it? He actually strangled a Plague Marine to death?" Wang Ming sighed at the mortal soldier’s feat.

"Boss, did you see the video?" Wang Xiaofa asked over the comms.

"I saw it. It’s too ridiculous. 'Underwear War God,' huh? He actually strangled him to death!" Wang Ming rewatched the video, still stunned. It was just a pair of boxers! And yet, it had been the end of a Chaos Astartes.