Chapter 61 Production Accident

"Impossible. The dead cannot be resurrected; that is an ironclad rule."

"After a person dies, their soul dissipates. This process is irreversible. No amount of vitality can alter it."

"Lord, are you looking to bring the dead back to life?"

Ash's expression grew serious.

Because of the innate ability granted by their symbiotic contract, banshees perceive souls far more clearly than other races.

"If it is merely a physical death—such as the mermen earlier whose vitality was drained due to the contract—there is still a remedy."

"For instance, pouring massive amounts of vitality into them can restore them rapidly without side effects. Back in the cave, before signing the contract with the other banshees, your vitality was nearly drained away, yet you recovered almost immediately."

"The exact opposite of this is the death of the soul."

"Once the soul dies, no power in existence can save it."

"Even if a vessel is reanimated, it is no longer the original soul."

"......"

The psychic link fell silent once more.

"What if—"

"I mean, hypothetically speaking—"

"What if the soul is transferred to another place? Is there a possibility of resurrecting the physical body then?"

"Impossible, My Lord. A soul cannot exist independently of the flesh. A mortal's spirit and body are inextricably bound."

"What about transcendent beings?"

"I do not know."

"......"

"However, I have a conjecture."

"What is it?"

"Only gods can allow a soul to exist alone in this world."

Ash fancied she heard a sigh.

After a moment, another message came through the psychic link:

"Ash, there is something I need to ask a favor of you."

"Go to the deep sea, into the abyss, and bring me back some of the contamination."

"I have a persistent premonition that the contamination in the deep sea is different from all others."

***

"Now that our vitality pool is sufficiently large, you no longer need to worry too much about the loss of vitality from distance to the contractor."

Contamination? She frowned. Such things could no longer threaten the banshees; ever since she signed the contract with Hughes, all the vitality flowing through him was purified by an unfathomable power.

Yet, what was there to study in such a substance?

She did not understand, but she was willing to obey.

Ash nodded. She originally intended to leave just like that, but hesitating for a moment, she reopened the psychic link and replied:

"Understood."

"......"

..................

............

......

Hughes closed the psychic link with a complicated expression, raising his head to look at the chief secretary standing before him.

"Ahem, please continue."

Alexei cast a strange look at him. Why had his lord been drifting off into thought more and more frequently lately?

He brought out his notebook and flipped through the pages:

"The soap production is proceeding very successfully. We began pressing oil from olives when we modified the workshop earlier, and now we are making soap directly with olive oil. The first batch of finished products is already out. I had two crates delivered earlier."

"The olive oil reserves cannot keep up anymore, can they?"

"Yes. I have dispatched more men to level the roads, and the situation will improve soon."

"The school's classes have also officially commenced. At present, the enrollment is still dominated by the night school; daytime attendance is sparse. The adults on the island generally have to work, and as for the children, people are still not quite at ease letting them come to school by themselves, though the situation is gradually improving."

"The above is the good news, but some trouble has arisen as well."

"First are those confidential workshops—you know the ones, where nitroglycerin is manufactured."

Hughes nodded. Although large-scale preparation of nitroglycerin had not yet begun, he had nevertheless set up a workshop to experiment, allowing the craftsmen to run through the standard procedures and identify potential issues.

"We did not actually put any materials inside; we merely asked the craftsmen to try following the standard procedures. The problems we encountered as a result were far too numerous."

"To begin with, the craftsmen are unwilling to accept your operational safety protocols. For instance, the rule that the finished product must not be subjected to heavy impacts—they stubbornly believe that following traditional brewing methods is quite sufficient."

"Have you informed them of the danger these substances pose?"

"I have, and I even assigned supervisors specifically to watch them. They behave obediently while being watched, but the moment no one is around, they do whatever is most convenient. Some even deliberately violate the rules in front of others just to appear brave."

"Similar incidents have occurred in the soap workshop. Some craftsmen, seeking convenience, failed to follow the regulations, and several have already suffered scalds, though fortunately none are severe."

Hughes sighed.

This was precisely why he insisted on establishing schools first.

Without basic education, without a fundamental understanding of industry, such occurrences were bound to happen repeatedly.

Lacking understanding, they lacked reverence; knowing nothing, they cared little for their own lives. If one wished to achieve industrial upgrading, education would forever remain the most crucial link.

Even with boiling pots of hot water that could be seen plainly with the eyes, people still sought shortcuts and got injured—let alone hidden dangers like nitroglycerin.

Alfred Nobel himself had suffered numerous accidents.

During Hughes's last descent, the factory owners in the Rhine region had simply thrown human lives into the furnace; once enough people died, a sense of reverence would naturally arise. Setting aside whether that approach was humane, Hughes was operating an explosive workshop. Should something go wrong, everyone would be sent flying skyward.

Under the present circumstances, he simply could not feel at ease letting these artisans touch even slightly complex production processes.

"Seal that workshop temporarily. Also, in the soap workshop, publicize the accounts of the injured craftsmen repeatedly to serve as a warning to others. Ensure the injured receive prompt medical treatment, and we will cover all medical expenses."

"Since few people attend daytime classes at the school, slow down the pace of the daytime schedule. I will speak to Zoe about this."

Zoe was currently teaching people how to read at the school. Because she was extremely patient and taught well, she had won unanimous praise, and she basically ran all the daytime classes.

"What about the matter of the nitroglycerin?"

"Leave it as it is for now. We will focus primarily on soap manufacturing, and put that project on hold."

Alexei nodded and took his leave. Truth be told, he no longer dared to let the craftsmen produce nitroglycerin; he had witnessed the sheer terrifying destructive power of the substance with his own eyes.

The study fell silent, and Hughes sat back in his chair, lost in deep thought.

"At present, it seems much more appropriate to let the banshees run the nitroglycerin workshop."

"They lack the stubbornness and arrogance of ordinary craftsmen and maintain a prudent attitude toward production procedures."

"Furthermore, with the symbiotic contract in place, even if an injury occurs, their lives will not be in danger."

"I just need to find a place to set up a new workshop..."

Hughes sighed.

The underground cavern where the banshees currently resided offered great security, but it was thoroughly unsuited for the manufacture of explosives.

An underground explosion would almost certainly cause a collapse. Buried beneath tons of earth, even the symbiotic contract might not be able to save them.

Not to mention that directly above this underground cavern lay his own manor...

Suddenly, an idea struck him, and his eyes lit up.

"I recall Chloe mentioning that the Candlelight Society intended to banish a group of skilled workers over to this side?"