The Emperor said, “Let there be light.”
So Su Ming pulled out the Holy Fire Dagger.
Su Ming, a low-hive nobody, believed neither in the Emperor nor in the Imperial Creed. He carried a sanctified fire dagger and had a [Game System] hidden inside him.
Kill monsters to level up. Die and reload. Start over as many times as you like.
Can’t win? Reload and learn their moves.
A trap? Reload and go around it.
Ambushed? Reload and kill them instead.
When the Imperial Academy began recruiting, special admission student number 047 cut through the ranks of the freshmen.
Smashed a third-year’s power armor with one punch.
Split a nascent Chaos Daemon in half with one slash.
Fought four Genestealers alone.
Everyone thought he was just lucky.
Only Su Ming knew the truth:
He’d simply died a lot.
The Imperial Creed wanted to burn him, but then a cardinal showed up at his door to take him as a disciple.
The Inquisition wanted to investigate him, but then Bella Donna personally came to recruit him.
The Adeptus Mechanicus wanted to study him, but then a Magos asked him to choose his own augmentation plan.
Su Ming: “Can you stop bothering me? Ask again after I pass the Adeptus Astartes trials.”
Humanity wanted him, and so did the Chaos Gods.
Khorne offered blood, Tzeentch laid his schemes, Nurgle bestowed corruption, and Slaanesh lusted after him.
Su Ming: “Get lost, all of you.”
Darkness descended, Chaos broke through into reality, and everyone fell to their knees in prayer.
On his 127th reload, Su Ming stood at the front, holding golden flames.
“The Emperor is busy?”
“No problem. I’ll handle it.”
