"Strictly speaking—" said Conrad Coates. "——Our behavior can be regarded as committing a felony to a certain extent."
Khalil replied without raising his head: "There is no imperial law that stipulates that the Legion is not allowed to add regulations on the selection of new recruits."
"But you call it the twentieth surgery."
"It is not a surgery, but it is not much different from surgery. They all need to bleed, be injured, and be in pain. The only difference is that the surgeon and the patient are themselves, that's all. Furthermore, this statement is different from a weird and confusing Much better for rituals that lead to sleepwalking, Conrad."
Conrad Coates nodded and agreed with Khalil's statement.
He is one of the only two promoters of this matter. How much of the inquiry at this moment is really because he has an opinion on the name of the twentieth operation, or is he trying to use this as an excuse to start other topics? I'm afraid no one knows the answer.
The Lord of Midnight has now learned some special skills, no one taught him, he is self-taught - he can keep a straight face and hide all emotions, like throwing them into a box in his heart.
Is this good?
Conrad Coates didn't have the answer, but he didn't care about the answer right now.
He leaned against the wall behind Khalil, rubbing his back against the cold wall and feeling a long-lost comfort. The war is over, and the outcome can still be classified as 'good'. This is enough, Coz doesn't expect too much.
He squinted his eyes, watching Khalil write line after line on the blank document, and couldn't help but ask a question: "When did you become proficient in this?"
"What's up?"
"Write a document."
Curze shrugged, knowing that Khalil could tell what action he was doing through the disturbance in the air.
"You look like another Robert when you write these documents."
"Have you ever seen him write documents?"
"No, he always uses the data pad."
"Then I-"
Khalil turned his head and thrust a pen into Conrad Coates' hand.
"Not another Roboute Guilliman, but a more old-school professional word processor. Now it's up to you, Konrad, since you're done with the meeting and you plan to come here to chat with me, then Let’s chat while correcting the documents.”
"."
"Why, don't you want to?"
".I thought I would get a little break after a war."
"If the Lord of the Legion wants to rest, then rest."
Khalil smiled slightly, put one hand on the back of the chair and shook his head.
"Paperwork isn't going to get away anyway, is it? Whether you write it or not, it's there so you can go get some rest, Conrad."
"What do you mean I can take a rest?" Coz raised half of his eyebrows, which made his expression look a little intriguing. "I am the master of the legion, Khalil. If I want to rest, I can rest."
"yes."
"yes?"
"Yes, you can rest if you want." Khalil nodded with a half-smile. "Then rest."
"."
Conrad Coates walked around him wordlessly and came to the opposite side of the table. He moved out the full-size chair, sat down silently, and started doing paperwork like Khalil.
Frankly speaking, his handwriting was beautiful enough that Khalil could tell that it was derived from Fulgrim just by looking at it, but Konrad Curze wrote very quickly, which caused some confusion between the words. Many connected lines.
And they are not soft.
They are not curved arcs, they even look as straight as blades, very much in the personal style of Konrad Coates.
Very difficult to understand.
"Conrad, I have to say that although your font is very personal, it also caused a lot of trouble for our clerical officials." Khalil tapped his fingers on the table. “They even had to come to me a few times.”
The tip of Conrad Coates' writing pen suddenly stopped.
".What are they looking for you for?"
"Drinking tea, chatting, studying which knuckles of other people's fingers can cause more pain - what do you think?" Khalil asked with a smile. "What do you think they are here for?"
"The ring finger or index finger is better."
"Ah, I think it's better to bend four fingers at once and then snap them back again. But, what do you think they came to do with me?"
Conrad Coates put down the pen in his hand wordlessly and curled his lips dullly: "I have long said that I would implement paperless office. Robert even gave us a batch of data pads, but you didn't. You have to ask for paper documents in this matter.”
"What I'm talking about was long before you ever wanted to go paperless, Conrad. And it's normal to use paper documents in this matter."
Khalil shook his head, his dark eyes calm. Today he was wearing a dark blue long-sleeved top and a black and gray vest - standard office clothing, from a tailor who traveled with the Emperor's Dream.
Before this expedition, he gave several pieces of clothing of different styles and uses to Khalil, without asking for anything in return, or even saying why.
"Although paper files are more cumbersome to store and less convenient and faster to search than data pads, even the Ultramarines have not eliminated them. You might as well think about the reason, Conrad."
"I do not want."
"Um?"
"I don't want to think about it right now," Conrad Coates said. "I just want to get back to Nostramo as soon as possible, Khalil, and then I want to recruit troops, and then, I want-"
He paused oddly, pursed his lips, said nothing, and turned his gaze to the ground. It's like being silent, but also like thinking. Khalil stared at him silently, waiting for the next step, and Curze did not disappoint.
"——It seems too early to say this now." Konrad Coates said in a tone that was so rational that it was completely unlike himself. "Nostramo is still unfit for conscription."
He came to a conclusion and overturned his own thoughts. He controlled himself with reason, and Khalil sighed imperceptibly.
"So," he said slowly. "When do you think the time is right, Conrad?"
"I don't have an answer either." The giant who just said he didn't want to think thoughtfully held his cheek with his right hand.
He stared at the table and began to follow the lightning patterns on it with his eyes - everyone has different habits when thinking, and this is Konrad Coates's habit, which came from a long time ago.
It comes from the time when he was still squatting on the gargoyle waiting for the man named Khalil Lohars to tell him what to do. At that time, he would chase the figures and vehicles on the ground with his eyes while thinking about something. Nothing important.
At that time, they did not know what was hidden in the gloomy sky of Nostramo, nor did they know each other's true identities.
They hunted together for many nights, and the two monsters caused horrific tragedies one after another. The corpses of their victims could even fill several streets in Quintus.
And now?
Konrad Curze laughed harshly, it was unexpected, but it seemed normal to him - he was handsome, to put it inappropriately and inappropriately, he was even handsome to the point of being beautiful, for being a creature of the Emperor The best proof.
But he himself has turned this beauty into a temperament mixed with danger. On weekdays, this danger is invisible, and it is only really revealed at a few times and in front of a few people.
"I don't have an answer, Khalil." The Lord of Midnight chuckled and shook his head, his smile almost mocking. But who is he mocking?
Khalil also had no answer for this.
"Sometimes, I feel like I've changed." Conrad Coates smiled without a smile. "There are also times when I ask myself silently in my heart - Is it a good thing to abandon Nostramo and go fight in a war?"
"I know the need for the Great Crusade, and I know I shouldn't think so. But it's hard to convince yourself to do the right thing, Khalil."
He looked at the giant who looked very similar to him, and spoke softly, staring at him with dark eyes: "How did you do that?"
"What?"
"Always do the right thing."
"I've never done this, Conrad," Khalil told him calmly.
"I have made many mistakes, some of which I still regret, and some of which have become my own warnings. No one can do the right thing all the time, and those who force themselves to do so, without exception, all become A monster. Paranoia is a kind of curse on us. Anyone may be paranoid in some way. For example, I am used to turning things into riddles and carrying everything on my shoulders most of the time. Another example is The Emperor, he—"
Khalil couldn't help but smile: "——We won't talk about him."
"Why?"
"Are you really asking, or are you going to continue this and twist it into an awkward chat making fun of your father?"
Coz was not annoyed when his true intention was discovered. He just smiled and picked up the quill and continued writing. After a few minutes, he finished his writing, handed the document to Khalil, and walked out of the room.
Khalil watched him go away, lowered his head, and began to read.
He saw that the words Conrad Coates had originally written had been drawn with a big The font has changed, and the characters are no longer continuous, making it very easy to distinguish.
"We all have unfinished business, Father."
"I could just be a killer, a fierce assassin, but I realized that I can't be like this. If the crime is not judged, our killings are meaningless. I used to dislike being changed, and I even wanted to wear Fu Geli. There was some resistance to the clothes that Mom gave me. But now, I realize that I have to change."
"If I don't change, more people will be cruelly changed by this world."
"Let's go back to Nostramo, let's change it first."
The update is complete, a new volume will be opened tomorrow, and Sevita and others will appear.
Let me tell you something from my heart.
The data dropped this month. It’s my own self-destruction and there is no way to wash it out. I have read everyone's comments. Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read this. I will try my best to make this story exciting again.
In addition, the Shattered Steel Soul next door is now available! Go and see it! If anyone doesn't know, this one is for Perturabo! These are exciting times.
(End of chapter)
