"I didn't choose to be a mutant myself."
Mont said with a resentful tone.
Joan just tilted her head, seemingly not intending to listen to Mont.
Mont's expression suddenly twitched.
"Is it our fault for becoming mutants?"
He said in a somewhat hoarse voice:
"My brother and I looked like normal humans until we were seven or eight years old, living ordinary lives in the Lower Nest."
"I've already forgotten what my father looked like; I only remember he was a small factory foreman, quite well-off in the Lower Nest."
"My mother, however, left a deep impression on me. When our scalps started bleeding and swelling inexplicably, she was very flustered and worried, applying medicine for us."
Mont took a deep breath:
"But when the swellings burst and beast-like horns grew out, my mother was terrified."
"She tried to file off our horns with a file, chop them off with a cleaver, and even attempted to pull them out with iron pliers."
"My brother protected me, but he himself was left with a bloody head by our terrified mother. Those broken horns on his head are how they got there."
"When my mom realized the horns on our heads couldn't be completely removed, she finally went completely mad."
"She dragged us outside and, before our father returned, shoved us into the sewer. If my brother and I hadn't been lucky, we would have died long ago."
Mont's expression twisted slightly, and he seemed to pound the ground in resentment.
"Perhaps it was unpurified water, or toxic food or air, or even the toxic light of the sun. But no matter what triggered our mutation, what did we do wrong?"
"We were just seven or eight-year-old children then, and even now, we are still doing it for the entire Ashford."
Listening to Mont's words, Joan just subtly shifted her body, increasing the distance between herself and Mont.
Mont's face showed a hint of breakdown.
This was not to blame him for breaking down.
Although Joan had never verbally expressed her dislike for Mont, nor had she directly opposed Alexander cooperating with them,
Her actions still revealed her deep disdain and revulsion for mutants,
Especially since Mont and Marquite were also mutants corrupted by Nurgle,
Joan felt an instinctive revulsion, preferring to hide behind Alexander rather than look at them.
But Marquite and Mont, perhaps influenced by Nurgle, showed a certain fondness and care for children.
Marquite merely smiled at Joan's disdain and ignored it.
But Mont couldn't quite bear it.
He had tried to talk to Joan several times, but Joan's reaction was always to act as if Mont didn't exist.
After they arrived at this settlement, Mont even shared his food with Joan and Alexander.
After Joan and Alexander exchanged glances, both of them tacitly did not eat.
Mont completely broke down then, constantly grumbling about "being born a mutant wasn't his fault," "he didn't do anything wrong," and "They were saving Ashford."
Regarding Joan's discrimination against mutants, Alexander's view was...
Joan was a smart child from a young age, much smarter than Joan.
Alexander didn't even think Joan's attitude towards Mont was discrimination.
As a mutant who believed in Nurgle, this was what Mont deserved.
Alexander walked over to the two with food in his hand.
"Which one do you want to eat?" he asked.
Mont glanced at the food in Alexander's hand,
Roasted large black rats, worm jelly, and mushrooms.
He seemingly retaliated by choosing the most expensive and meatiest item: the roasted large black rat.
Alexander then looked at Joan.
Joan hesitated slightly, then took the cheapest mushrooms from Alexander's hand.
Alexander sat in the empty space between the two, leisurely putting the worm jelly into his mouth.
This kind of worm jelly was somewhat similar to a specialty food called 'earth bamboo shoot jelly' on ancient Terra.
Although the raw materials for making them were different, they both belonged to the phylum Sipuncula.
These worms were rich in monosodium glutamate, which is the component of MSG and the main source of umami flavor.
Therefore, this worm jelly tasted incredibly savory and was very popular in the Bottom Nest and Lower Nest.
Alexander glanced at Joan, who was nibbling on mushrooms beside him.
These cooked mushrooms actually tasted quite bland; their only advantage was that they contained some moisture.
Alexander broke off a piece of worm jelly and gave it to her.
Joan took it and hesitated for a moment, then broke off a piece from her mushrooms and gave it to Alexander.
Mont watched the two from the side, seemingly feeling isolated.
Alexander glanced at him and said, "Go eat your big black rat."
Mont gloomily took a bite of the greasy roasted black rat.
Just then, a commotion suddenly arose in the crowd.
In the distance of the narrow road, a tall, piled-up tower cart slowly approached, pulled by more than a dozen Four-Armed Emperor cultists dressed in purple robes.
At the top of the tower cart stood four preachers carrying megaphones.
Among the preachers was a bald woman holding a staff as tall as herself, clad in a finely woven purple robe.
The woman had a beautiful face, upturned eyes, and a series of barely noticeable plate-like protrusions on her brow.
Her eyes, beneath delicate eyebrows, seemed to hold a captivating power, and they glowed with a faint purple hue.
The genestealer bishop, the Patriarch's right claw, a powerful psyker.
She was born for infiltration, created for corruption, and was the most skilled at corrupting humans among the genestealer.
Alexander, with Joan, subtly retreated, cleverly hiding himself within the crowd.
"Pay attention to the person in the robe in the distance to your left," said Sanguinius.
A light illuminated in front of Alexander, marking that person.
It was a person wearing a grayish-brown robe, hunched over, with their entire body hidden in the shadow of the large clothes, rough hands gripping a staff.
It looked like a very old, hunchbacked person.
"Genestealer cult guard."
As a former Tyranid player, Alexander had some understanding of the various units within the genestealer.
He quickly determined that it was a genestealer cult guard, the bishop's bodyguard.
These guards appeared frail, but in reality, they inherited many genes from the Tyranids, capable of swift stealth like a Lictor.
When they truly fought, they were fast and ruthless; even a normal Astartes might not be able to withstand them.
Several more white lights lit up, marking out more genestealer cult guards.
Too many...
Alexander quickly made a judgment.
Even if Mont brought his people to attack here, they wouldn't be able to kill the genestealer bishop.
Mont's side only had cultists, mutants, and a large number of plague zombies; while they outnumbered them, the quality gap was too great.
The tower cart carrying the genestealer bishop slowly advanced; she didn't seem to be in a hurry to preach.
She merely had her followers distribute food and purified water to the surroundings.
Suddenly, a thin man brushed past Alexander.
Alexander's peripheral vision caught the man pulling out a homemade automatic gun from under his clothes—
Bang!!!!