Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

The people of Black Coal Street forced themselves to smile and greet Will as he passed.

Many elderly women pulled their children forward, urging them to show off their meager muscles.

They begged Will to take the boys into the mining crew, as their families could no longer afford to feed them.

Will smiled and responded kindly to each request.

He accepted one boy but gently declined the rest.

"Let them grow a bit more. Sending these little ones into the mines now would be a death sentence!" Will said.

Despite being rejected, the people maintained their composure and dispersed quietly.

In the eyes of the governor, Will might have been just another replaceable figure.

But on Black Coal Street, Will was their king.

He commanded thousands of miners, holding the livelihood of the residents in his hands. No one dared defy him.

Not that they would. Will had earned their respect.

Reaching his door, Will turned back to the crowd. "Go and let those boys who went home know they can return to work. Don't leave them waiting."

As the crowd dispersed, Will pushed open his door and immediately scooped up his two little girls, who came running to him.

The door closed, and only the sound of their giggling could be heard.

Deeper in the street, in a lowly shack, Mecca and his family were gathered for their midday meal.

In truth, they could only afford one meal a day now.

They had to finish eating before the sun moved, or else they'd have to eat in the dark, as the sunlight wouldn't reach their shack deep in the street.

As for candles, they couldn't afford them.

Candles were a luxury. Only Mr. Will and his captains could afford such extravagances on Black Coal Street.

Such was the world. Miners dug up energy stones to power the hive, yet couldn't afford to use electricity themselves.

Most of the electricity was sent to maintain the shields and air circulation systems of the upper hive or to power the factories.

The rest was sent to the royal district to illuminate the night skies there.

Mecca watched his son devour the last bit of food with a tender gaze.

The boy was twelve now.

In a few years, he'd be able to find work, and then there'd be hope for the family.

"Dad, I'm still hungry..." his son whispered.

Hungry, yes...

Mecca's smile faded.

He could see the hunger in his son's eyes. The boy was growing—of course, he was still hungry.

But there was no more food left.

His wife's hands were crippled, so no factory would hire her. The entire family survived on Mecca's earnings from the mining crew.

But yesterday, the mine had put him on "paid leave."

Mecca didn't quite understand what that meant, but he had received his next day's wages.

At first, he had been happy, but the pitying looks from others made him realize this wasn't good news.

He had asked the man delivering the news why he couldn't return to work the next day.

The man simply replied that it was the governor's orders. Everyone who received wages for the next day had to stay home and was forbidden from going to the mines.

Everyone was terrified, asking why.

If they didn't go tomorrow, someone might take their place. Would they ever be allowed back?

The man couldn't answer and only barked that they had to follow the governor's orders.

Then, overseers from the royal district came and drove them away, injuring a few unlucky souls in the process.

"Dad..." Mecca's son tugged on his hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Mecca patted his son's head with a heavy heart. "Go to sleep. If you sleep, you won't feel hungry. Tomorrow, when I get paid from the mine, I promise to feed you until you're full!"

"Really?"

His son hesitated as he crawled onto the bed and wrapped himself in the blankets. He sat up again, still unsure. "You promise I'll be full tomorrow?"

"You little rascal, when have I ever lied to you?"

Satisfied with the answer, his son lay back down and soon drifted off to sleep.

After a moment of silence, Mecca's wife looked at him with concern. "Do you really think you can go back to the mines tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Mecca said, slumping in defeat. "Mr. Will went to see the governor. Hopefully, he'll come back with good news."

"But... but I've heard people say the royal district is out of food. They say even the governor can't get his hands on a decent loaf of sawdust bread anymore..."

Mecca's wife was on the verge of tears. "They say the mines can't pay that many wages anymore. Once you leave the mines, you'll never be able to go back!"

She broke down, sobbing into her hands but quickly covered her mouth, afraid of waking their son.

"God-Emperor, are we going to starve to death?"

When a man in Black Coal Street could no longer work the mines, starvation followed soon after.

There were countless such stories here. It was nothing new.

But when it happens to your own family, you realize how terrifying it truly is.

Seeing his wife in tears, Mecca felt helpless. He didn't know what to say to comfort her.

He wasn't confident that he could return to work tomorrow either.

"Let's wait for news from the mines. Mr. Will will speak on our behalf."

Mecca forced out the words, then fell silent again. The only sound left in the room was his wife's muffled sobbing.

As the midday sun shifted, the light began to fade.

The shack, carefully tended by his wife, was slowly swallowed by darkness.

And like the shack, so too would this family, just like thousands of others in the upper hive.

Gradually, even the sobbing stopped.

Only silence and darkness remained.

Bang, bang, bang!

A loud knocking sounded on the shack's iron door.

Mecca instantly tensed, gripping the iron rod he kept by his side.

Black Coal Street wasn't completely safe—strange attacks occurred from time to time.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Mecca!" a gruff voice replied.

The captain!

Mecca nearly jumped to his feet, asking eagerly, "Did Mr. Will get an answer from the governor?"

"Heh, of course! When the boss steps in, it's all taken care of!"

The captain's voice was cheerful. "The governor said the mines will continue as usual. You'll be able to return tomorrow!"

"That's... that's wonderful!"

Mecca was so overcome with emotion, he could barely speak.

"Would you like to come in?" Mecca's wife, equally excited, invited the captain inside.

But she quickly realized there was nothing left to offer him.

The figure at the door didn't seem to notice the awkwardness. "No need! I've still got to spread the word to the others."

The captain turned and left, only to crash into something nearby with a loud clang.

"Damned Black Coal Street! You can't see a thing after noon!"

His grumbling faded into the distance.

The commotion woke Mecca's son, who rushed out in the dark and hugged his father, scared. "What happened?"

"Hahaha! It was someone from the mine. Tomorrow, you'll finally get to eat your fill!"

Mecca, overjoyed, hugged his wife and child.

They clung to each other tightly.

And somehow, the night didn't seem so dark anymore.

Meanwhile, in the spire office of the royal district...

Eden furrowed his brow slightly.

A maid immediately drew the curtains, preventing the bright sunlight from distracting him.

Eden was deeply worried. The territory's food reserves would only last one more month.

In other words, he had just one month to reach Green Wave Farm in the space hulk.

He needed to bring back the crops and agricultural technology from the Golden Age.

Otherwise, once the food ran out and chaos erupted in the territory, gathering Hope Energy would become even more difficult.

"Sigh..."

Eden switched off the data pad and leaned back in his chair. "How am I supposed to foster hope among the people?"

He felt like he was on the verge of an idea but couldn't quite grasp it.

"Governor, do you have a moment?" Bayev entered the room and bowed to Eden.

"What is it?" Eden asked.

(End of Chapter)

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