Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Hughes almost could not hold himself together on the spot.

He vaguely remembered that not long ago, he had rejected a proposal. It was about research on the Internal Combustion Engine. The idea of using fuel in an internal combustion engine was correct, but the reason he sent it back was—because the fuel was nitroglycerin.

And now Richard was telling him that pollution could be used as fuel to make explosives?

Could it be that nitroglycerin really could be added into an internal combustion engine as fuel?

Hughes suddenly wondered if he had been a bit too path-dependent. The prejudice in a person’s heart was like a towering mountain. Perhaps nitroglycerin really could drive an engine. After all, the cylinder was already a place for combustion explosions; now changing it to a literal detonation might not be much of a problem.

Oh no, I’ve become the villain who suppresses scientific research.

Hughes made a firm decision to approve this project once he got back. Wait… who was it that proposed this project again?

It seemed to be Nini.

Hughes sucked in a cold breath. A faint sense of foreboding rose within him. For the moment, he could not figure out the key point, but he decided that Nini’s laboratory must definitely be placed far away from the Church.

Yes, he should also let Nini write fewer reports. Those articles were sometimes far too outrageous. Even Hughes could not help but glance at them from time to time.

“I added living pollution into the nitroglycerin, and found that the properties of both became even more active. This was normal—after all, pollution had the characteristics of life, its activity was already very strong.”

“And how did you solve it?”

Richard’s expression grew serious: “That was thanks to Monica’s research, which gave me inspiration.”

Hughes: “…”

Monica, just your ideas alone could feed half of Castel.

“Miss Monica suppressed pollution by summoning a Machine Soul and attaching it to the Steam Engine. I thought, could I also summon a Machine Soul for cannons?”

“You succeeded?”

“Yes. These two Hand-Cannons are the result.”

Richard brought over the Hand-Cannons held by the Banshee, and skillfully opened a side hatch: “Inside here, you first load Entity Pollution, then load the shell normally. When firing, the Entity Pollution mixes with the explosive, bursting out of the barrel together, forming this flame jet similar to a fire dragon.”

Richard twisted a metal knob on top.

“You should have already guessed it—the ratio of pollution and gunpowder can be adjusted. But this requires cooperation from the Machine Soul. For now, only I can operate it.”

Richard slipped the cannon barrel over his arm and tapped the steel casing lightly.

The echo rang out crisp and resonant, as if the Machine Soul inside the Hand-Cannon was loudly responding.

Richard shifted to a sideways stance, raised the heavy Hand-Cannon—

Boom!

A massive jet of flame roared out. Richard’s legs were spread front and back, his stance bracing against the recoil. With a fierce swing of his arm—!

The fan-shaped area before him was instantly engulfed in flowing firelight!!

Like the breath of a dragon, it turned everything ahead into a blazing hell of molten lava.

This time Hughes was truly dumbfounded.

“I have named this weapon the Dragon’s Breath Cannon.”

“This technique requires an extremely familiar cooperation with the Machine Soul to master. A new recruit may struggle just to fire it. Because of time constraints, my synchronization with the Machine Soul only reached this stage. But I faintly feel that if I push further, the Dragon’s Breath Cannon could manifest a third form.”

Three forms of the Dragon’s Breath Cannon… That was indeed too powerful.

After a brief daze, Hughes quickly grew excited.

“This weapon—would mass production be difficult?”

The Dragon’s Breath Cannon was fine, but if it turned out to be another handcrafted oddity of the extraordinary world, then it was the opposite of industrialization, having no real practical value.

Richard smiled slightly: “The labor time required is only a bit more than for a Gatling Gun. For Castel’s production capacity, that’s no problem at all. The only real limitation is the summoning of the Machine Soul.”

The summoning of a Machine Soul was originally Monica’s unique ability, a power granted by the possession of the Sea God’s soul.

But after they stuffed the Sea God’s true body into the furnace, this summoning ability underwent subtle changes.

Now Monica could summon, the other Banshees could summon, and even extraordinary ones from the Moths Chasing Fire had recorded successful cases—though the success rate was relatively low.

However, these summonings all had to be performed in Castel. More precisely, at the Cathedral, atop the Stellar Furnace.

To summon a Machine Soul atop the furnace burning the Sea God—it was indeed an indescribably strange feeling.

In any case, summoning Machine Souls was no longer a difficult matter.

“Good, good, good! Excellent! Such a powerful weapon must immediately be implemented in the Holy Guard!”

Richard’s confident smile suddenly froze.

“Ahem, my lord, there may still be just a tiny little problem.”

“What problem? Don’t worry, I’ll prioritize production for you. Even if labor time is several times greater, it will still be quickly equipped to the Holy Guard!”

Richard revealed a trace of embarrassment: “Distribution won’t be a problem, but the actual use… may not go so well.”

“Is it an issue of communicating with the Machine Soul? Don’t worry, once we summarize ways to please the Machine Soul and inscribe them into the Holy Text, the Holy Guard will quickly master it. Difficulties in the extraordinary are never insurmountable.”

“No, it’s a physical problem.”

Richard sighed and placed the Hand-Cannon before Hughes: “Try it yourself, and you’ll see.”

Hughes examined the Hand-Cannon. Inside the arm slot, there was a grip. He slipped his hand inside and grasped it.

The instant he touched the steel, the Machine Soul chirped with joy, and he immediately received its recognition. Hughes was already numb to it; he had no idea why Machine Souls were always so close to him.

So Hughes prepared to lift it and try firing a shot.

He heaved—yet it didn’t budge.

Hughes blinked, inhaled deeply, and exerted his full strength. The result was that he barely lifted one side of the Hand-Cannon a tiny bit, not even off the ground.

Only then did he realize the weapon’s appearance was extremely massive, and entirely made of steel.

“My lord, this Hand-Cannon weighs around three hundred kilograms.”

Richard, being extraordinary, had no problem lifting this weight.

But Hughes was just an ordinary human. Three hundred kilograms was within the range of strongmen performing deadlifts, but holding it up to fire…

And that was only the weight.

Just now, the Banshee had lifted it with ease, but when firing, she had still been blasted back a good distance by the recoil.

If a Banshee’s body weight and strength could be thrown back, wouldn’t an ordinary person be sent flying?

“This isn’t unsolvable. Just add a gun mount, add wheels, carry it to the battlefield by carriage.”

Hughes braced his legs, panting heavily.

If the artillery was heavy, then so be it. On Blue Star, self-propelled artillery often started at several tons. By comparison, a few hundred kilograms was nothing. Add wheels, and soldiers could drag it onto the battlefield without issue.

“This is exactly the problem, my lord. This Hand-Cannon must be fired while communicating with the Machine Soul… meaning, it must be fired by hand!”