Feeding

The factory was definitely problematic. Walking through these two workshops, Lynch had gradually come to understand the meaning behind little Janet’s graffiti.

It was actually quite vivid; the assembly lines in the workshops, long, winding, and varying in thickness, looked remarkably like the tentacles in her drawings. The workers stationed along them, with their dull gazes and numb expressions, repeatedly performing the same mechanical motions, resembled nothing more than appendages clinging to those tentacles.

The mysterious, incomprehensible presence at the center was likely the source of it all, the reason the workers attached to the lines never returned.

It was truly eerie. It wasn't just that workers were dying in accidents; it was as if they were being erased. Neither the foremen nor the other workers remembered anyone who had been employed there for at least half a month.

Lynch even suspected that perhaps their families outside the factory didn't remember them either.

The practiced way the three foremen at the gate operated suggested that such events were not a first occurrence. If the families outside still remembered them, it would have been difficult to cover up.

Had a living person just completely vanished from this world? Lynch felt a chill run down his spine.

"Neighbor, is this kind of thing possible?"

The gentle Ms. Luna was silent for a moment, as if she didn't want to bother with his question, but finally answered: 【Please try to understand your own authority, Lynch.】

Hmm? Lynch was stunned, then realized that this phenomenon could indeed be explained as being 'concealed.' No wonder she looked down on him.

"So I can do this too?"

【Not right now. You will be able to when your understanding of divine authority reaches a certain level.】

"Can it be as eerie as what is happening here?"

【That is quite difficult.】

"Hiss, even with divine authority it's difficult?"

【Yes, it is very hard to maintain such a crude effect.】

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the gentle voice held a hint of lightness. Although it was fleeting, it left Lynch speechless, his mouth hanging open.

Ms. Luna, that is not the right attitude.

【When a concept of a thing that you cannot directly comprehend is hidden or devoured, the phenomenon you are encountering will occur.】

"Existence?"

【You can understand it as such for now.】

Drawing inferences, Lynch’s thoughts immediately branched out: "I understand. The concept of this person’s existence itself was erased, which is why everyone forgot them. But you said this is a very crude effect. Ah, I see. Only the memory was erased, while the name in the register remained, which is why you called it crude?"

【Yes, the effect of erasing existence can only be confined to the level of consciousness. It cannot even interfere with reality through consciousness. Calling it crude is already being quite polite.】

Lynch nodded, already piecing together the general outline of the events in his mind.

This factory harbored an unknown mystery that erased the existence of certain people. Little Janet, for some reason, had become aware of this phenomenon. Following the law that mystery contact originates from perceiving mystery—which Madam Bessie had mentioned—she had established a connection with it, causing her mind to be repeatedly impacted by the mystery. Not only did she keep drawing the lingering images in her mind, but it had also manifested in her physical body, making her increasingly frail and on the verge of death.

But this was just speculation. He needed to find some concrete evidence first. If all else failed, he would seek help. After all, he was now a Soul Severer and had a certain resistance to mystery, so he wouldn't be as helpless as before.

"I should be able to handle it, neighbor."

【I will always be by your side, witnessing your journey toward immortality.】

"I will always be by your side, witnessing your journey toward immortality. Look, I’ve memorized it. It’s a promise, then. You will stay by my side on this path, and you are not allowed to lie."

【Mm.】

Lynch smiled to himself. Based on his experience from the first night, since he suspected the place was affected by a mystery, he had to find the source—whether to find evidence or solve the problem.

He tried activating his mystery intuition. The concentration of mystery filth here was peculiar; it was slightly thicker than in a normal environment, but it was evenly distributed everywhere, unlike the radioactive, natural distribution he had seen at Donnie’s place.

Lynch had done some research over the past two days. This performance seemed to mean that the mystery’s effect was a blanket distribution, making his self-invented concentration-locating method difficult to apply.

Frowning, Lynch’s gaze fell on the foremen in the workshop.

These foremen must have known some of the inside story. They weren't worried about being affected, or they would have run away already. But they were willing to be accomplices and hide the truth. There was no benefit for them in doing this; they wouldn't do it on their own initiative. There was likely someone in higher management behind it who knew more.

They knew what was happening, but unless he forced a confession, it wouldn't be easy to make them talk. Still… hmm? Who was that?

Lynch noticed that shortly after he entered, a middle-aged gentleman in a formal suit and top hat walked in hurriedly. Two foremen immediately stood up and quickly went to meet him, standing at attention with their hands respectfully lowered before the gentleman.

The man said a few words and turned to leave. One of the foremen immediately followed him.

Lynch hesitated for a moment, then maintained his lurking state and followed closely. This was clearly someone from the factory’s upper management. It was unlikely to be a coincidence that he sought out the 10E foreman shortly after discovering Lika’s disappearance.

Following the two men deep into the factory, they arrived at a two-story building. At the entrance were beautiful flower beds and a fountain, and the stables housed carriages for the executives, a sharp contrast to the chaotic factory area outside.

There were security guards stationed at the small building’s entrance. When they saw the two approach, they immediately opened the door diligently, not noticing the three sets of footsteps passing by them at all.

Once inside, the man in the formal suit stopped and cautioned, "The manager has something to ask you. I will go in first; when you are called, you enter. Answer whatever you are asked. The gentlemen have been in a bad mood lately, so remember not to talk nonsense."

"Yes, sir."

The foreman straightened his back, followed him to the second floor with a look of joy, and stood guard at the top of the stairs. At the end of the corridor, facing the stairs, were two heavy, ornate wooden doors. As soon as they were pushed open, a thick smell of smoke wafted out.

Inside, four men in formal suits sat on several sofas. They didn't even glance at the two who entered, listening intently to one of the men in his forties who was speaking. The man wore a curly wig, and his two thin eyes were narrowed into slits.

"Production progress must be kept up. I don't care what price you pay; you must have the goods ready by August. I have already conceded too many interests to secure the supply rights for the Norin-Rhine Railway project this time. Don't cause trouble behind my back like that group of hillmen. Whoever wants to sabotage this cooperation is my mortal enemy, and I will make them pay a brutal price. Do you understand? I have given you over a year, and now there are only two months left. You know the consequences if you fail."

Lynch, who had followed them into the room, recognized the man at a glance. His only feeling was that the trip was worth it. He had seen the speaker once before—it was the Speaker of the House of Commons and owner of the Grant Screw Factory, Mr. Truen Grant.

"Sir, time is too tight," the oldest gentleman in the top hat stood up and said distressfully. "The workers have reached their limit. It is difficult to increase efficiency further."

"Manager Frank, the item has already been given to you. I put a lot of effort into finding that thing, and you said it was effective at the time. Now you are telling me it doesn't work?"

"Sir, even accounting for the effect of your artifact, that thing does make those lazy bums think of nothing but working hard, and efficiency has increased significantly, but one person disappears every day..."

"If I don't feed you, will you work for me? It's just feeding it a little something every day. No one will know, and it's not like you're being fed yourselves. Why are you so nervous?" The Speaker’s slit eyes opened a fraction, and he sneered. "Just one person a day; with such a small cost, production can be increased. What else are you dissatisfied with?"

"But, sir, that thing has developed a problem."

"Hmm?" Speaker Grant’s expression changed.

"Some time ago, there was a day when no one was selected in the records, and all the workers went home normally. Since then, problems have arisen. The number of missing people has been rising. Four people disappeared yesterday. And it is no longer limited to the night shift. Just now, a case occurred in the morning shift. I brought their foreman over; three people have disappeared from their group in the last few days."

"Call him in."

Soon, the foreman was brought in, rubbing his hands nervously and stuttering as he answered the questions of the gentlemen in the room.

Just as the man had said, although there had been rumors for a long time that people disappeared from the factory every day, no one had actually encountered it; it was just that an unknown name would occasionally appear on the roster. And with so many foremen, the chance of it really falling on a day laborer they were responsible for was extremely low, so the foremen had just treated it as a legend. But with the recent surge in disappearances, the foremen had become aware of it during their private conversations.

Speaker Grant asked for details about the foremen’s reactions before waving his hand for the foreman to withdraw. Once the irrelevant people had left, he frowned and fell into deep thought.

"Sir, that thing is becoming more and more dangerous. We are very worried that its influence will gradually expand."

"So what?"

"We were wondering if we could shut it down for a while to see if it can be calmed down, and to keep the people below from panicking."

"Shut it down? What about production progress? Don't even think about it." The Speaker slammed the table and said indignantly, "I warn you, Frank, I don't care how many people disappear; that is a problem for you to consider. But if you dare to delay the deadline, I guarantee that none of you will even have the chance to regret it."

"Yes, yes." The several gentlemen stood up with ugly expressions, lowering their heads cautiously.

"Just hold on for these few days. Isn't it only four people a day right now? Increase the number of recruits. There are more and more people entering the city anyway; Rhine is not short of idlers without work. How many pennies are these lazy bums worth? As long as the ones recruited are alive, they can work for us. If they are selected, it's even better; we don't even have to settle their wages for the day. Is there any business more profitable than this? What are you afraid of?"

"But, sir, the people below know that they won't be selected if they don't get on the production line, and they have started to panic. They are all worried about whether they will disappear too," Frank said distressfully. "And... the number of people per day has increased. We are worried that the selection range is also expanding. If people who don't use the production line are also selected, that would be terrifying."

"That is a problem. We cannot trigger a panic, or no one will work. Here is what we will do: Frank, find the few people who know the most, especially those at the gate. They know the most. Give me their names, and I will find a way to clear them out so that there won't be a panic. As for the expansion problem, don't worry. I will contact the person who provided that thing in the next two days and ask him for a solution. But before that, production must absolutely not stop. No matter how many people it feeds on, we must persist. All of you remember: whoever dares to affect this business of mine, whoever dares to stop me from making money, is my enemy—including you all."

"Yes, yes." The gentlemen looked distressed, but they had to swallow the bitter fruit themselves.

The Speaker didn't even look at their expressions, rising on his own to pick up his cane. "Once I get the solution, I will send someone to fix the problem. That bunch of trash at city hall spends so much money every month, they should do some work too. Keeping a dog is more useful than keeping them. Keep it confidential until they arrive."

Saying this, Speaker Grant called for the attendants waiting outside and left in a huff, leaving the factory executives staring at each other, unable to even cry.

"Hmph, such a large business, at least tens of thousands of pounds in profit. You want me to give that up for a few human lives?"

Until he boarded the carriage, the Speaker was still sulking, full of anger toward his attendants.

"Remember to remind me to contact that person tonight. The thing he provided has developed a problem, so he must be responsible for fixing it. You want me to pay out of my own pocket to find someone to solve it? Keep dreaming."

Cursing as he went, the carriage rolled away. Amidst the dust on the roadside, a figure in plain clothes wearing a flat cap appeared faintly.

Lynch, standing in the shadows of the building, watched the departing carriage with a dark expression, feeling deeply shocked.

He had originally thought this was just a factory accidentally encountering a mystery, with management hiding the accident, leading to increased casualties. Similar things were not rare in his past life.

However, after only ten minutes of conversation, the more he heard, the more horrified he became. For the first time, he realized that he had truly underestimated the cold-bloodedness and brutality of this emerging class.

Everything was actually proactive. They were using human lives to feed the mystery just to increase production efficiency and earn tens of thousands of pounds in profit.

But thinking about it, it made sense. This person could secretly incite the Railway Workers Union to create the Crown Square incident, causing hundreds of casualties just to smear the hillmen. It was no surprise that he would exchange lives for huge profits.

People were dying every day, and the number was increasing. Although these were people from another world, they were still human lives. If he didn't know, he would let it be, but since he had stumbled upon it and it conflicted with his commission, how could he pretend not to see it? Even if the damn Speaker had great influence, he would find a way to ruin this for him, at least to live up to his own conscience.

But he didn't even know where the mystery relic was. Even if he asked the Watchers to step in, it could be easily dismissed. Acting rashly at this moment would be unwise. Lynch pondered for a moment, and a plan gradually took shape in his mind.