A Korpsman's Purpose || WH40K Korpsman Reader x RWBY

Chapter Three - Death is an Acceptable Risk

Classes pass in a flash, up until lunch. I learned some useful things. Apparently there is a substance called 'dust' which I actually may be able to use to load my weapons. I asked my weapons teacher, Harold Mulberry, if I could run some experiments after classes have concluded. I want to see if I could use this dust to create the plasma needed to fire my lasgun and hellgun.

I look down at my map and allow it to lead me right to to the mess hall. Now that I think about it, I haven't eaten a single thing since I got to this world. Hopefully I can get some food.

As I enter the mess hall, I get a few stares but most people mind their own business. I approach the line of students who wait for food as I pull the sheet of burlap fabric I purchased with the money I was provided by Ozpin.

I use my pen to draw to circles where I am planning to put the eyes. This will be my new makeshift respirator. I remember one battle where I saw some of my comrades lose their respirators so they made ones out of sacks and salvaged glass. They took charcoal from the fires to make the filters. I can probably buy some charcoal from a hardware store. Actually, I will need a way to make money if I am planning on buying the things I need.

My thoughts are interrupted by heavy footsteps fast approaching behind me.

"Hey, fuckface!" I hear someone shout behind me; the same voice as that meathead from my first class who I went off on. I sigh and turn around, placing the burlap sheet back into my pocket after folding it up. A lot more eyes go to us now.

"What? You want me to make good on my threat?" I ask him, sizing him up. He's tall, sure, but I am Kriegsman. We are adult male height by age 12 in order to fit in with the rest of the Guardsmen. I am older than that, so I am easily taller than this fuck.

"Well, now that we ain't in class, my team and I are here to show you how to talk to people in our language." He motions to the three men behind him, though I note hesitation in their eyes. They are not as invested in this as their little ringleader.

"Oh, you said something about language? All I hear is bullshit. Now, unless you want me to gut you and your friends like the heretical trash you are, get the fuck away from me." I spit on his shoe and then stare him down. He squares up and appears to get ready to throw a punch.

"I'll teach yo-"

"CARDIN WINCHESTER!" I look up past this idiot to see that blonde teacher I met before. "Making trouble again?" He freezes up and then slowly looks back at her.

"Just... boys being boys, Professor Goodwitch!" He tries to lie in a trembling voice with a nervous laugh as she smacks her hand with a riding crop which she holds in the other hand.

"Well, I am certain you fellows can wait to settle this little quarrel in my class. If you want to settle it now, Winchester, I will allow you to throw one punch before I make sure you wish you were never born." Professor Goodwitch gives Cardin that same look she gave me and he isn't man enough to resist succumbing to the tension and fear.

"S-sure. See you then, fucker-" And that gets him a slap on the wrist from that riding crop.

"Language, Mr. Winchester." Prof. Goodwitch raises a finger at him. He grumbles as he and his cronies march off. She then turns her attention to me. "You could've tried defusing that situation and yet it appeared to me as if you were trying to escalate it."

"Well, I did what I needed to do to protect my honour and to put him in his place. If I had to hurt or even kill him, I would've done it." I feel instant pain as the riding crop is run into my cheek very hard, though I barely even react.

"Kill him? Mr. (L/N), you will do nothing of the like. I have no idea how your life was before, but we do not kill here." She says, staring at me with serious eyes.