Howard decided to personally investigate the Gularczyk family. He had previously met their patriarch, Praslow, and at the time had not sensed any trace of corruption from the man, who served as the head of the Corpse Guild in Sandchiga Hive City.
However, just moments ago, as his vehicle passed a transport truck entering the Gularczyk estate, a deep unease gripped him; his Supernatural Intuition picked up an aura of chaos and madness.
The Corpse Guild was a major power in the hive, controlling the trade and production of corpse-starch.
With tens of thousands born and dying each cycle in the hive. Without systematic corpse disposal, plagues and diseases would run rampant.
The bodies were sent to massive grinders and processed into corpse starch, the staple food source for most commoners in the hive. If anything disrupted this process, the entire hive would be affected.
Especially now, with Nareth issuing directives to encourage population growth.
Howard plotted a circular route, one that would end where it began, and quickly donned his artificer power armor
He then drove to the Gularczyk estate. One kilometer from the manor, he activated his vox and issued an order through the Fifth Regiment's command channel:
"Operation Rat Hunt—commence!"
Immediately after, he switched to the First platoon comms:
"Michal, your squad is up. You're coming with me."
"The rest stay alert. Don't let a single one escape."
"Yes, Commander."
Brown-haired Michal emerged from a storefront hideout with his squad. Every warrior in the 1st Company was a veteran of dozens of battles since the regiment's founding, and the 1st Platoon represented the elite of the elite.
Howard, backed by wealth and authority, had equipped each of them with carapace armor and high-grade weapons.
Howard and his men marched straight to the Gularczyk family's heavy steel gates.
The guards spotted him early on and, recognizing both his artificer armor and his identity as the true authority in Sandchiga, immediately informed Praslow and opened the gates.
One guard tried to curry favor:
"Lord Howard, Clan Leader Praslow is already—"
"Out of the way," Howard snapped.
Without waiting, he pushed forward with his troops and stormed into the Gularczyk estate.
After walking several dozen meters, they arrived at a large warehouse where a transport truck was parked.
The "Sheriff" furrowed his brow. The vehicle no longer gave off the unsettling aura it had earlier; it looked completely ordinary now.
Just then, Praslow arrived, panting and dressed in a gray robe embroidered with a red crow. He clutched a bone staff as his flabby gray flesh jiggled with every step, like a mountain of fat on the run.
"Lord... Howard…"
Howard tapped his brow twice with his left hand, activating his spirit vision. His ice-blue gaze swept over Praslow, making the guild leader involuntarily shudder.
The "Sheriff" sensed a faint, almost imperceptible trace of chaos, but said nothing.
"A treasure from my spire tower, meant to be gifted to Monarch Nareth, was stolen. My men saw the thief flee into your estate."
"Move aside, unless you're protecting the culprit."
Praslow, visibly tense, sighed in relief. It wasn't his secret being uncovered, just some bold thief causing trouble.
He knew the "Monarch's" preferences well and didn't doubt Howard's words.
'Damn thief. Of all places to run, you came here?'
"My lord, I'd sooner eat this hive's entire corpse-starch supply than harbor thieves!
Search freely, but I assure you, no thief could've slipped into my estate. My guards saw nothing."
"Move."
Howard's tone was icy as he led his troops into the warehouse.
Inside, he found a large grinder in the center, surrounded by hundreds of corpses. He immediately barked:
"Search!"
"Yes, sir!"
First Squad obeyed without hesitation, inspecting every corner, even lifting decayed, stinking corpses without complaint.
Howard observed that while Praslow's aura held some gray fear, it was largely tinged with blue rationality and calm, which meant the hiding spot wouldn't be obvious.
The "Sheriff" carefully searched through the warehouse himself.
Twelve minutes later, Michal returned.
"Commander, nothing found."
Praslow stepped forward with a smile.
"My lord, as you can see, this warehouse only contains bodies. The corpse starch is used to feed my servants."
"Even if a thief did sneak in, he wouldn't hide among these corpses, let alone stash something valuable here."
Howard didn't reply. His Beyonder ability, "Supernatural Intuition," had picked up something. He strode quickly to the grinder.
Praslow opened his mouth, wanting to mention that Howard's men had already checked it, but thought better of it and held his tongue.
Howard knelt before the grinder and spotted a drop of blue among the dark red bloodstains.
"Supernatural Intuition" allowed the "Sheriff" to perceive irregularities and trace subtle clues far beyond the capabilities of ordinary men.
'That color shouldn't exist on a corpse. Something's wrong with the corpse starch.'
He stood and turned to Michal.
"Confiscate all the corpse starch."
As he said this, he noticed Praslow's aura shift; the fear in it spiked dramatically.
"My lord, the item you seek is extremely valuable. Why would it be hidden in something like that?"
"No one would be foolish enough to throw a treasure into corpse starch!"
Howard was now certain. He raised his heavy logging rifle and aimed it at Praslow.
"What now? Are you planning to stop me?"
Praslow glanced at his family guards, then back at Howard's soldiers. He made the wise choice; he gave up.
"Come with me."
Howard and his men detained Praslow and escorted him back to the spire tower.
At the same time, gunfire erupted across multiple domes and districts of Sandchiga.
Hidden Tzeentch cultists were swiftly eliminated by the Fifth Regiment, offering only brief resistance.
Only then did Howard activate his communicator again, switching to the security captain's channel:
"Deploy your teams immediately. Stabilize the hive."
Two standard hours later, with the test report in hand, Howard entered the interrogation room. He looked at Praslow and sneered.
"You laced the corpse starch with a drug. Anyone who eats it undergoes physical mutation."
"Now, are you going to tell the truth, or shall I have my men help jog your memory?"
Praslow sat deathly pale, clenching his teeth in silence.
An hour later, Howard stared at a data slate. Onscreen was an image of a young man with sunken eyes and a faintly mocking smile.
"Issue a hive-wide arrest warrant for Bartosz."