Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Following the Network Path, Hughes quickly arrived at the Eastern Test Site.

Now that the entirety of Castel Island had been reclaimed, there was technically no need to use the Network Path anymore. However, most people were still accustomed to traveling through it.

First, it was a matter of habit. During the earlier battles, almost all troop deployments had been carried out via the Network Path. Resource deliveries, evacuation of the wounded—whether it was the Holy Guard or the islanders, everyone had gotten used to moving through the Path.

Secondly, the Path was simply very convenient.

Elevators had been installed at several key nodes. The Paternoster elevator had a simple structure and high reliability. The islanders weren’t weaklings who spent their lives behind desks—they had quick reflexes and nimble hands, and could easily hop on the elevator when the chance arose. Ever since its construction, there had never been any real issues.

Aside from its efficiency, the Network Path offered another advantage—it made weather irrelevant.

After all, Castel was located on the Storm Ocean, where the weather changed constantly. One moment, the sun could be blazing in the sky, and the next it might start pouring.

Traveling through the Network Path meant none of that mattered. Although Castel was an island, most areas were not low-lying. Not to mention the southwestern volcano—Castel’s main cathedral only began to risk submersion after prolonged sea level rise.

Higher terrain made drainage easier. The Path’s intricate design included numerous drainage outlets, so even in the face of a storm, there was no need to worry about flooding.

Once the subway project was complete, it was possible that all of Castel’s transportation would go underground.At that point, any visitors to the island would likely be surprised by how few pedestrians there were on the surface.

Hughes soon arrived at the Eastern Test Site. After Chloe’s death, Richard had temporarily taken over this area of research. As for electing a new Chief, the Moths Chasing Fire weren’t in any rush.

Though cultists, the Moths Chasing Fire functioned more like a research organization. Yes, they summoned Heretical Gods and caused all sorts of trouble—but much of that was to aid their research.

Unlike other cultists, for whom research was an afterthought and summoning was the main job.

Then again, whether their research or the Heretical Gods they summoned were more dangerous... was anyone’s guess.

“Where’s Richard?” Hughes casually grabbed a nearby researcher and asked.

“Over there,” the man pointed toward a factory in the distance. “You’re here about the cannon, right? They’re doing a test firing now—I’ll take you there.”

“Test firing? It’s already done?”

“It’s done, yes, but...”

The man’s eye twitched. He seemed reluctant to continue.

Hughes felt a jolt of unease in his heart. These Moths Chasing Fire... had they made another new monstrosity?

The two of them soon arrived at the test firing area, carefully avoiding the direction the cannon was aimed. They found Richard there.

He was frowning deeply, staring at the enormous cannon in front of him.

Yes—enormous.

The size of this cannon completely exceeded Hughes’ expectations. He couldn’t even recall any weapon in his memory that matched this. To put it this way, even a three-meter-tall Banshee would find this thing a bit oversized.

Hughes swallowed hard, looking at Richard with a complicated expression.

“Mr. Richard... I didn’t expect your ‘Yield Worship Syndrome’ to be this severe...”

Richard’s face darkened.

“Ahem... My Lord, I didn’t mean to make it this big either. It’s just that... there was no other way.”

He pointed to a pile of scrap metal off to the side.

“We started by following the design schematics and ideas you provided, but we just couldn’t make it work. No matter how we adjusted it, the shell wouldn’t explode on impact like you described. Either it wouldn’t detonate at all, or it would blow the chamber apart.”

Hughes took a closer look at the metal pile. Sure enough, it faintly resembled small-caliber cannons. The structure of a cannon wasn’t complicated—in fact, it could be considered simple. If things were as Richard said, then there could only be one possibility—the explosive charge ratio was off.

That was where things got tricky. Hughes didn’t know much about the exact loading ratios of cannon shells. Even if he remembered all the ratios by heart, he could only offer a reference—Castel’s chemical industry was still quite underdeveloped. The impurities in the various raw materials could easily mess up the formula.

At times like this, what was most needed was a ratio derived from experience. But they hadn’t found one that worked.

One possibility was bad luck. The other was... a technology lock.

If it were just bad luck, they could keep testing until it worked. But if it was a tech lock—then there was nothing to be done.

This world seemed to constantly reject the pure advance of technology. Every time Hughes tried to push the boundaries of tech, he would inexplicably fail at a certain stage. This was what was known as the “technology lock.”

Based on experience, it was extremely difficult to break through a tech lock head-on. Simply throwing more manpower and money at it rarely worked. The most effective method was to find a way around it.

Since this world rejected pure technological advancement, the solution was simple—make the technology *less* pure.

If the tech got stuck, combine it with Extraordinary Power to bypass the lock. For example, the airship’s outer skin used supernatural materials, which avoided the bottleneck caused by the tech lock.

But how exactly was one supposed to combine explosives with Extraordinary Power? Should they have a Father stand nearby and recite the sacred texts while mixing the explosives?

Forget it. Maybe the sacred texts of other Churches might work, but the sacred text of the Imperial Truth? That thing could be used as a textbook for advanced physics.

The Holy Guard had to maintain their firearms, and to prevent cognitive interference, Alexei had stuffed a bunch of mechanical principles and physics knowledge into the sacred text.

Now, the Holy Guards might not be able to explain the doctrine, but they could definitely explain the physics.

Explosives and cannons...

If Chloe and Monica were still alive... oh, and Gaia—they would have been extremely interested in all this.

Hughes shook his head, pulling his drifting thoughts back together. His gaze landed on the massive cannon.

“If the shell’s reliability is so low, then enlarging the cannon doesn’t help much, does it?”

“Well... it’s not exactly a simple enlargement,” Richard adjusted his monocle. “I got some inspiration from the Banshees’ method of throwing explosive packs. If the shell can’t detonate on impact, then just launch a burning explosive pack instead.”

He pointed to the giant cannon. “This is the result. Strictly speaking, it’s not really the cannon you described earlier. It’s more like... an explosive pack launcher.”

Launching burning explosive packs?

Hughes blinked.

A Heartless Cannon!?

Since they couldn’t make shells, they just fired lit explosive packs instead? Damn, Richard really did have a broad imagination—to come up with something like this.

Historically, the Heartless Cannon had been quite effective in battle—a field-tested, simple weapon. But it was notoriously unreliable. If you wanted higher reliability, you had to build something as massive as the one in front of him.

If you miniaturized the explosive pack, the power would drop significantly, and adding a fuse became difficult. That meant the overall size couldn’t be reduced, and the barrel had to be huge just to accommodate it—all of which led to this massive cannon.