Alexander stepped out of the hotel on Ninth Street, Eighteenth Residential Area, Ninth District.
Yesterday, he and Reyna had silently tracked the old woman named Namakor.
Alexander even changed his face several times, pretending to brush past her.
This allowed him to observe Namakor more closely.
The skin of this mathematician and Actuary was dark and sallow, with slightly deep-set eyes, characteristic features of the South Asian subcontinent of Terra.
Her eyes showed no madness, nor the usual turbidity common in the elderly; instead, there was a peculiar liveliness.
It was as if countless numbers were swirling and arranging themselves in a spiral within her pupils, converging to form them.
Besides this, Alexander found no other unusual signs.
She had no psyker reaction, spoke clearly and rationally, and showed no blasphemous behavior.
She only occasionally lowered her head, rapidly calculating in a notebook she held, seemingly working something out.
Alexander cautiously glanced at the contents.
It was indeed filled with dense mathematical formulas, function graphs, and derivations.
Alexander, having a university education in his previous life, could barely understand a little of the content.
But he found absolutely no problems.
As for Reyna , she was even more clueless.
She had only learned some basic mathematics with Namakor when she was young.
She was capable of managing accounts for her gang in the Lower Nest, but when faced with real mathematical problems, she was utterly lost.
Even the string of numbers "387, 420, 489" Reyna still hadn't memorized.
Alexander always felt there was something wrong with this string of numbers, but he could never pinpoint what it was.
Neither of them found any signs of Namakor being corrupted, so they could only stay for now.
Alexander stood on the street outside the hotel and glanced at a small chapel not far away.
According to Reyna, this small chapel was built by the residents of the Ninth District themselves, who pooled their money.
Inside were statues of the Emperor and Sanguinius, as well as a handful of crimson sand from Baal, considered a holy relic.
Alexander had strongly insisted on staying at this hotel, even though it was several blocks away from Namakor, precisely because of this chapel.
If there were truly signs of Tzeentch's corruption, then this small chapel in the Ninth District might be able to resist some of it.
Another point was that Alexander and governor Augustus Flax had arranged to meet at this chapel.
Alexander entered the chapel.
There were no lights inside the chapel, only candles burning fiercely beneath two tall stone statues, casting a dim, orange glow over the chapel.
One statue was of the Emperor, holding a flaming blade, gazing into the distance.
The other was of an angel, holding a power spear, striking at a serpent coiled on the ground.
Blessed speakers played sacred prayers, and the scent of holy oil diffused a faint fragrance throughout the entire chapel.
In the chapel, some people sat on chairs, their heads bowed in prayer.
An Imperial Cult Priest devoutly bowed his head and whispered to Alexander:
"Son of Man, do you wish to confess your sins to the Emperor?"
"Son of Man, do you seek the mercy of Sanguinius?"
If I wanted the mercy of Sanguinius, why wouldn't I find that winged figure of Sanguinius in the corner of my eye?
Alexander wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but after entering the chapel, Sanguinius seemed to become even brighter.
"I'm looking for the governor." Alexander ignored the priest's proselytizing and went straight to the point.
The priest nodded gently, signaling Alexander to go upstairs to the second floor.
"Son of Man, no matter how great worldly authority may be, it is but a sliver of the Emperor's radiance."
The priest said to Alexander as he walked towards the second floor:
"Son of Man, no amount of glittering wealth can compare to the brightness on an angel's feather."
"I completely agree with that." Alexander nodded in agreement.
It was so bright it was almost blinding him.
Alexander glanced at Sanguinius in the corner of his eye; it was getting brighter and brighter.
As if this chapel allowed him to push more into the physical universe.
Hearing Alexander's heartfelt agreement, the priest's gaze towards Alexander immediately became much friendlier.
He pointed out the governor's room to Alexander.
Alexander nodded in thanks, pushed open the small door of a confessional on the second floor, and entered.
A gaunt, listless old man with dark circles under his eyes and cloudy pupils sat in a corner of the confessional, perusing the Holy Word Records.
Governor Augustus Flax, the current head of the Flax family.
Alexander narrowed his eyes slightly.
This governor actually met him face-to-face.
Augustus was an extremely cautious man who rarely exposed himself to danger.
Alexander sat opposite him.
"So you're still a devout believer in the Imperium." Alexander said with a hint of mockery in his tone.
Augustus closed the book he held and placed it aside.
"Faith in the Emperor brings a measure of peace to my heart."
Augustus lightly brushed off Alexander's mockery.
He looked at Alexander, every muscle in his face working in a subtle way, adopting a scrutinizing yet polite posture.
Training, Alexander detected traces of training on him.
It must have been years of training.
The nobles of the Imperium enjoyed privileges, but they were not merely useless idlers; their lives were far from easy or pleasant.
In fact, they were more often weary and exhausted; many Imperial nobles and even governors died at their posts.
The privileges granted by the Emperor did not come without corresponding responsibilities.
From birth, nobles underwent extremely rigorous training.
Every day, every moment, every action, every expression was meticulously planned.
They had to learn the knowledge required to govern a planet, learn piety and combat, learn etiquette and social skills.
Let alone weariness, they were not even allowed to show it.
Such a life would repeat endlessly until they were forged into a form capable of bearing the privileges and responsibilities bestowed by the Emperor.
This was especially true for a governor; managing an entire vast planet with only a human brain was a task that almost challenged the limits of human physiology.
The Augustus before him was a scoundrel; as governor, he had abandoned all governmental affairs of the Lower Nest.
But this did not mean he was a useless person; his past training still served him well.
"You, and that illegal psyker, what do you intend to do in the Upper hive?"
Augustus stared at Alexander and said:
"What do you want with Namakor, that Actuary?"
Alexander was not surprised.
While tracking Namakor, he had noticed someone else tracking them.
It was indeed the governor's spies.
"I suspect she's a heretic, corrupted by Chaos."
Alexander narrowed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, and said:
"Are you interested in lending me a squad of PDF? I'll help you eliminate this trouble."