There was definitely something wrong with the factory.
Walking through the two workshops, Lynch had gradually come to understand the meaning behind little Janet’s doodles.
In fact, they were remarkably vivid. Weren't the assembly lines in the workshop—long, winding, and varying in thickness—just like the tentacles in the drawings? And the workers laboring beside those assembly lines, their eyes dull and expressions numb as they mechanically repeated the same movements over and over, resembled parasites clinging to the tentacles.
And that incomprehensible, bizarre entity at the center was perhaps the source of it all, ensuring that the workers who attached themselves to the assembly lines would never return.
This was exceedingly eerie, because workers hadn't merely died in factory accidents; it was as if they had been completely erased. Neither the overseers nor the workers remembered this laborer who had worked there for at least half a month.
Lynch even suspected that perhaps not even the worker’s family outside the factory remembered them anymore.
The practiced actions of the three overseers at the entrance indicated that this was likely not the first time such an incident had occurred. If the family outside still remembered, the matter would have been nearly impossible to cover up.
A living person, just completely vanished from this world? Lynch felt a chill run down his spine.
‘Neighbor, is such a thing possible?’
The gentle Lady Luna remained silent for a moment, as if unwilling to entertain his question, but finally answered: 【Please understand your own authority, Lynch.】
Huh? Lynch paused, quickly realizing that this manifestation could indeed be explained by Concealment. No wonder she looked down on him.
‘So I can do this too?’
【Not now. Once your understanding of Divine Authority deepens to a certain degree, you will be able to do so.】
‘Can it be as bizarre as what’s happening here?’
【That is rather difficult.】
‘Hiss, even with Divine Authority it’s difficult?’
【Yes. It is difficult to keep the effect so crude.】
Whether it was his imagination or not, there was a touch of brisk lightheartedness in her gentle voice. Though it vanished in a flash, it left Lynch speechless, mouth agape.
Lady Luna, that’s not very nice.
【When a concept of a thing that you cannot directly comprehend is hidden or devoured, the phenomenon you have encountered occurs.】
‘Existence?’
【You may understand it that way for now.】
Drawing inferences from this, Lynch’s thoughts branched out immediately: ‘I get it. The very concept of this person’s existence was erased, which is why everyone forgot him. But you said this effect is very crude... Ah, I see. What was erased was only memory, while the name on the register remains. Is that why you called it crude?’
【Yes. The effect of erasing existence is confined strictly to the conscious level, unable even to interfere with reality from consciousness. Describing it as crude is already quite polite.】
Lynch nodded, having already pieced together the general outline of the incident in his mind.
An unknown mystery phenomenon existed in this factory that could erase certain people's existence. Little Janet, for reasons unknown, had become aware of this phenomenon. According to the law Madam Bessie had mentioned—Mystery begins with perception—Janet had established contact with mystery, and her mind had suffered repeated psychic shocks from it. Not only did she continually draw the lingering images from her mind, but it had also manifested onto her physical body in reality, causing her to grow weaker and weaker, teetering on the verge of death at any moment.
Still, this is just speculation. I’d better find concrete evidence first. If things truly get out of hand, I can always ask for help. After all, I’m a Soul Severer now and have developed some resistance to mystery; I won’t be completely defenseless like before.
‘I should be able to handle this, right, neighbor?’
【I will always stay by your side, witnessing your journey to immortality.】
‘I will always stay by your side, witnessing your journey to immortality. Look, I’ve memorized it. We have a deal, alright? You’ll stay with me on this path the entire way—no lying.’
【Mm.】
Lynch smiled to himself. Drawing on his experience from his first night, since he suspected this place was influenced by a mysterious event, whether he wanted to find evidence or solve the problem, he had to locate the source of the mystery.
He tried activating his mystery intuition. The concentration of mystery filth here was rather peculiar—slightly denser than in normal environments, but evenly distributed everywhere, unlike the normal radial distribution seen at Donnie’s house.
Lynch had also done some research over the past two days; such an appearance seemed to indicate that the mystery’s effect had a blanket coverage distribution, meaning his self-invented concentration-tracking method would hardly work.
Frowning, Lynch’s gaze landed on the workshop overseers.
These overseers probably knew some inside information and weren’t worried about being affected themselves, or else they would have fled long ago. Yet they willingly acted as accomplices to conceal the truth. Doing so brought them no benefit, so they wouldn't have done it spontaneously; there was likely a higher-up behind them who knew more and directed their actions.
They knew what was happening, but unless he forcefully interrogated them, getting them to talk wouldn’t be easy. Should he... Hm? Who’s that?
Lynch noticed that shortly after he entered, a middle-aged gentleman in a formal suit and top hat hurried inside. The two overseers immediately stood up, quickly stepped forward to greet him, and stood at attention before the gentleman with their hands respectfully lowered.
The gentleman said a few words and turned to leave. One of the overseers promptly followed after him.
Hesitating for only a moment, Lynch immediately maintained his lurking state and followed closely behind. This was clearly factory management. Seeking out Workshop 10E’s overseer right after Lika’s disappearance was hardly a coincidence.
Following the two deeper into the factory grounds, they arrived at a two-story building. Outside stood a lovely flowerbed and a fountain, while the stables held carriages for upper management's travels—a stark contrast to the chaotic factory area outside.
Security guards were stationed at the entrance of the building. Seeing the two approach, they enthusiastically swung the main doors open, completely failing to notice the sound of three sets of footsteps passing by.
Entering the building, the suited gentleman stopped and instructed, “The manager called you here to ask a few questions. I’ll go in first. When you’re called, step inside and answer whatever you’re asked. The lords haven't been in a good mood these past few days, so remember not to speak out of turn.”
“Yes, sir.”
The overseer’s back straightened at once. With a delighted look, he followed the man up to the second floor and stood by the staircase. At the end of the hallway, directly opposite the stairs, were two heavy, ornate wooden doors. As soon as they were pushed open, a thick cloud of tobacco smoke billowed out.
Inside, four men in suits were seated across several sofas, not even glancing at the two newcomers. They were engrossed in listening to a man in his forties speaking. The middle-aged man wore a curly wig, his slender eyes narrowed into slits.
“The production schedule must be kept on track. I don’t care what cost you pay; the goods must be fully prepared before August. To secure the supply rights for the Norin-Rhine Railway project this time, I conceded far too many profits. Don’t cause trouble behind my back like those hillmen. Whoever tries to sabotage this collaboration is my mortal enemy, and I’ll make them pay a bloody price. Do you understand? I’ve already given you over a year, and now only the final two months remain. You know what will happen if you fail.”
Lynch, having slipped into the room, recognized the man at first glance and felt the trip was entirely worthwhile. He had seen this speaker once before—it was none other than the Speaker of the House of Commons and owner of the Grant Screw Factory, Mr. Truen Grant.
“Your Excellency, the time is too tight,” the oldest gentleman in a top hat stood up and said in distress. “The workers are already at their limit; it’s nearly impossible to increase efficiency any further.”
“Manager Frank, I already gave you that thing. It cost me great effort to obtain, and you told me back then it was effective. Now you’re telling me it doesn’t work?”
“Your Excellency, we have already accounted for the effects of your treasure. That thing indeed makes those lazy bums think of nothing else and focus entirely on working hard, which greatly increased efficiency. But someone disappears every day...”
“Do you work for me without eating? It’s just feeding it a little something every day, and no one will ever know. It’s not as if it’s eating you, so what are you nervous about?” Chairman Grant forced his slit-like eyes open slightly and sneered, “It’s only one person a day. For such a small cost to boost output, what is there to be dissatisfied with?”
“But, Your Excellency, something went wrong with that thing.”
“Hmm?” Chairman Grant’s expression changed.
“Some time ago, there was a day when no one in the records was chosen, and all the workers returned home normally. Ever since then, problems started arising. The number of disappearances has been climbing. Yesterday, four people disappeared. Moreover, it is no longer confined to the night shift; just now during the morning shift, another case occurred. I brought their overseer over—their group has lost three people in the past few days.”
“Bring him in.”
Before long, the overseer was brought in, wringing his hands nervously as he stammered answers to the gentlemen’s questions.
Just as Frank had stated, while rumors had long circulated in the factory that someone vanished every day, no one had actually witnessed it. An unfamiliar name would merely show up on the shift roster once in a while. With so many overseers, the chance of a disappearance occurring among the day laborers under one’s own charge was minuscule, so the overseers had simply treated it as ghost stories. But with the recent surge in disappearances, the overseers had begun noticing during their private conversations.
Chairman Grant questioned the overseer thoroughly about the overseers’ reactions before waving his hand to dismiss him. Once the unrelated personnel had left, he frowned and sank into deep thought.
“Your Excellency, that thing is growing more and more dangerous. We are very worried its influence will gradually spread.”
“And so?”
“We were wondering if we should temporarily shut down operations for a while to see if we can calm it down, and also keep the subordinates from panicking.”
“Shut down? What about the production schedule? Don't even dream of it.” Chairman Grant slammed the table and snapped furiously, “I’m warning you, Frank, I don’t care how many people disappear—that’s your problem to figure out. But if you dare delay the deadline, I guarantee none of you will even get the chance to regret it.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Several suited gentlemen stood up with unsightly expressions, lowering their heads cautiously.
“Hold the line for these next few days. Isn’t it only four a day right now? Increase recruitment. More and more people are entering the city anyway; the one thing Rhine has no shortage of is idle folk without jobs. How many pennies are those lazy bums worth? The ones we recruit can work for us as long as they’re alive, and if they get chosen, even better—we won’t even have to settle their wages for the day! Is there a more profitable business than this? What are you afraid of?”
“But, Your Excellency, the people below don’t know that anyone not on the production lines won’t be chosen. They’ve already begun to panic, all worrying whether they might disappear next,” Frank said in distress. “And... the daily number has already increased. We worry the selection scope might expand as well. If people who don’t work on the production lines can also be chosen, that would be terrifying.”
“That is indeed an issue. We cannot cause panic, or else no one will work. How about this, Frank: go find the people who know the most, especially the gatekeepers at the entrance—they know the most. Give me their names, and I’ll find a way to eliminate them. That way, we prevent panic. As for the issue of it expanding, don’t worry. I’ll contact the person who provided the item in the next day or two and ask for a solution. But until then, production must not stop. No matter how many people we have to feed it, we must keep going. Remember this well: whoever dares disrupt this deal of mine, whoever dares stop me from making money, is my enemy—and that includes you lot.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” The gentlemen looked gloomy, but had no choice but to swallow their bitter pills.
Without sparing a glance at their expressions, Chairman Grant stood up, took his cane, and said, “Once I get the solution, I’ll send people over to resolve the issue. Those useless freeloaders cost city hall so much money every month; it’s time they did some work. Even raising a dog is more useful than raising them. Keep everything strictly confidential before they arrive.”
With that, Chairman Grant summoned his entourage waiting outside and strode off, leaving the factory executives exchanging helpless glances, wanting to weep but having no tears.
“Hmph, such a massive deal with at least tens of thousands of pounds in profit, and they want me to give it up over a few human lives?”
Even as he boarded the carriage, His Excellency Chairman Grant spoke to his attendant with a dark, furious expression:
“Remember to remind me tonight to contact that man. If something went wrong with the item he provided, he’s responsible for fixing it. Expecting me to spend my own money hiring people to solve it? Keep dreaming.”
Cursing all the while, the carriage rumbled away. In the dust stirred up along the roadside, a figure in plain clothes wearing a flat cap faintly materialized.
Standing in the building’s shadow, Lynch watched the departing carriage with a somber look, profoundly shaken.
He had originally thought this was merely an accidental mystery event encountered by the factory, with management covering up accidents and leading to mounting casualties—such occurrences were not rare in his previous life.
Yet after just ten minutes of listening, he grew increasingly appalled, realizing for the first time that he had severely underestimated the cold-blooded cruelty of these rising bourgeois classes.
Everything was done deliberately—using human lives to feed a mystery, all just to increase production efficiency and rake in tens of thousands of pounds in profit.
Then again, it makes sense. If this man could secretly orchestrate the Railway Workers’ Union to cause the Crown Square incident, causing hundreds of casualties just to smear the hillmen, then trading human lives for enormous profits is hardly surprising.
People were dying every day, and the numbers were increasing. Even if these were people of another world, a life was still a life. Had he not known, that would be one thing, but it had landed right before his eyes and conflicted with his commission. How could he pretend not to see it? No matter how powerful that damn speaker was, Lynch had to find a way to wreck this scheme—if only to stay true to his conscience.
However, he didn't even know where the mystery relic was located. Even if he brought in the Watchers, Grant could easily brush them off. Acting rashly at this stage would be foolish. Lynch pondered for a moment, and a plan gradually took shape in his mind.
Rate on N.U.
