Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord
Chapter 684 ·The Lord Is Not Breathing!
With one blink and another, Castel Island arrived directly before him.
No matter how many bones were broken in between, the Symbiotic Contract supported him from below. Once he reached the destination, he was once again the healthy Lord Hughes.
Hughes sat upon the Golden Throne, calculating silently, and could not help but nod in satisfaction.
The transport method of the Assault Coffin might have been somewhat ahead of its time, but his solution was even more advanced—he had simply shipped himself as cargo.
It was just that now, he was somewhat bored.
There was not enough time to go over to Worker Hughes and give a lecture. He wanted to stroll around between the thrones, yet the Golden Throne beneath him prevented him from standing up.
Hughes, utterly idle, locked eyes with each shell one by one, withdrawing his gaze at the instant before completing Descent.
“Should I create a new small account to play with?”
After thinking carefully for a while, Hughes still shook his head.
He was already a lord now. The matters he had to handle every day piled up like mountains. He simply had no time to run dual accounts.
Besides, creating a new shell would bring him almost no benefit.
What Castel Island needed was technology and development. A new shell could at most be used to obtain some intelligence.
Although it sounded rather tragic, Castel Island’s victories in external wars had basically had little to do with intelligence.
As Hughes let his thoughts wander, his gaze casually swept across the space between the thrones. Very quickly, it settled upon the White-Robed Priest.
Looking at the priest seated at the table, Hughes gradually frowned.
He was no longer the young man who had just transmigrated. He already had a considerable understanding of the various Churches.
This White-Robed Priest’s shell, like the others, sat at the table. The difference was that this shell had been visible to him from the very moment he transmigrated; it was not something he had deliberately created.
Moreover, when he looked at it, the shell did not raise its head to meet his gaze. Naturally, there was no subsequent Descent.
“It’s somewhat like having saved a dead file.”
Hughes murmured, rubbing his chin.
With nothing else to do, he began carefully observing the priest’s appearance.
Because of the angle, he could not see the priest’s face. And since he could not descend from the Golden Throne, all he could see was his clothing.
The long robe on the priest seemed to belong to some Church, but it was not any style Hughes had seen before.
On the priest’s robe was a Sacred Emblem. Upon it were patterns of flame, and Hughes found it extremely familiar—
Of course it was familiar. Castel Island’s insignia had been designed by him with reference to this emblem. Now every product manufactured by Castel Island bore that mark.
Truly bored out of his mind, Hughes stared at the White-Robed Priest and subconsciously activated 【Descent】.
As his will began to focus, the White-Robed Priest suddenly trembled slightly.
Hughes’s eyes flew wide open. If his backside had not still been glued to the Golden Throne, he would have jumped up in shock.
How could it move again!?
Yet the White-Robed Priest’s movement lasted only that instant. Like a toy that had not been fully wound, it trembled once, then lowered its head again, returning to silence.
But even that was enough to shock Hughes. This was the first time he had ever seen the White-Robed Priest react.
“It wasn’t my imagination… Let’s try again.”
Hughes rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and after mentally preparing himself, fixed his gaze on the White-Robed Priest and once again attempted 【Descent】!
As his attention concentrated, his will enveloped the White-Robed Priest once more. His eyes stared intently at the movements of the white robe.
The White-Robed Priest trembled lightly again, as though wanting to meet Hughes’s gaze. Yet soon after, it lowered its head once more and became motionless, like a puppet.
Like someone overwhelmingly drowsy, struggling to lift their head, only to ultimately fall into slumber.
“It can actually move…”
Hughes was truly stunned. This White-Robed Priest shell had always remained completely still before—whether he signed the Symbiotic Contract with the Banshees, or when the Lord of Moths came knocking, it had never shown the slightest reaction.
“Could something have happened recently? It would have to be some change related to myself…”
Hughes pondered carefully for a long time, yet could not think of any changes in himself lately.
Could it have been because Worker Hughes had been giving lectures?
He considered it seriously for a while, then slowly shook his head.
“It shouldn’t be. Lecturing isn’t essentially different from previously plucking threads and forming a Connection. No matter how I think about it, that doesn’t count as a change. So what exactly made it able to move?”
Resting one arm against his chin, Hughes thought for a long time. Only when a faint unease rose within him did he suddenly realize he had forgotten something.
“This is bad—the Assault Coffin has probably arrived!”
With no time to think further, Hughes quickly lifted his gaze toward Lord Hughes. As their eyes met, darkness fell before him.
And when he opened his eyes again, his vision darkened once more.
This was not a figure of speech. He was genuinely seeing black from the ordeal, barely able to breathe.
Hughes had originally thought he was still inside the Assault Coffin, shaken nearly to pieces, which was why he felt so miserable. But when he focused his eyes, he realized that was not the case.
The Assault Coffin’s lid had already been opened. A group of Banshees surrounded him.
“Boss, how did you stop breathing!?”
“Hurry, resuscitate him! Quick!”
“Aren’t you from the Hospital Knights? Save him!”
“Don’t panic. This should be drowning. Start cardiopulmonary resuscitation. I’ll do compressions—you do artificial respiration!”
Hughes: “!?!!”
Hughes: “Wait—mmph!”
Just as he tried to speak, his neck was elevated, and hands immediately forced his mouth open to clear his airway.
Now he could not speak even if he wanted to.
The Banshees were in utter chaos and for a moment did not notice that Hughes had already awakened.
Hughes watched helplessly as Monica leaned closer. Suddenly inspired, he activated Mind Link.
『Hughes: Stop! I’m fine! @Everyone』
He was still too late. Monica’s two hands were already interlocked. She pressed down on his chest—
Crack!
Hughes’s face twitched. That had broken at least three ribs.
The Banshees froze for a moment, all staring at Hughes. Hughes glared at Monica.
“Eek!” Monica cried out, retreating several steps, looking as though she had just seen a corpse sit up inside a coffin.
Hughes coughed a few times. Each cough sent sharp pain through his chest.
He looked at Monica, and for a moment, could not bring himself to get angry.
Monica truly had not meant to cause trouble. In proper cardiopulmonary resuscitation, the chest had to be compressed more than five centimeters. Fractured ribs were almost inevitable.
There was no helping it. The ribs protected the heart too well, and cardiopulmonary resuscitation required pressing directly over the heart to forcibly maintain blood circulation.
Broken ribs were non-fatal injuries. If the heart stopped beating, the mortality rate was one hundred percent.
Before Hughes could continue suffering, Vitality from within the Symbiotic Contract flowed over, effortlessly healing his broken ribs.
Hughes climbed out of the Assault Coffin.
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