Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord-Chapter 87: The Secret of the Shell

Beatrice’s maid quickly came to deliver a message, saying that the noble lady was feeling unwell and planned to rest for a day, intending to attend the banquet Hughes had prepared tomorrow.

Hughes naturally agreed and even had the servants send over soap and perfume.

Traveling at sea meant there were no proper bathing facilities, and although Extraordinary beings did not sweat much, there was undoubtedly a need for cleanliness.

It was the perfect opportunity to promote soap.

After detailing the usage of soap and briefly mentioning that it was a specialty of Castel, Hughes had a maid deliver an exquisite gift box.

— These soaps were, of course, not merely wrapped in oil paper. Those finely crafted boxes were essential to elevating their status.

After handling Beatrice, Hughes summoned Connor.

He intended to inquire about the Candlelight Church’s movements.

His elaborate efforts to welcome Beatrice at the dock were only partly about selling soap—the main objective was to confront Beatrice as a noble.

Beatrice was both a noble and an "Investigator" of the Candlelight Church.

However, the secrets of Castel Island could not withstand thorough scrutiny.

Hughes’ best strategy was to firmly entrenched her in the role of a "noble lady" before she had a chance to react.

Sure enough, Beatrice was still young. She subconsciously followed Hughes’ lead, shackling herself with the chains of secular expectations.

In this era, it was improper for noble ladies to show themselves in public too often.

The Empire’s aristocratic circles were indeed chaotic, but that was mostly among married noblewomen. High society remained quite strict with unmarried young ladies.

Hughes planned to continue playing this noble social game with Beatrice until she left.

There was another advantage to this—Hughes could take the opportunity to investigate the secrets of his previous body shell worker Hughes.

— Did the worker Hughes have any secrets?

Lord Hughes thought so.

The Candlelight Church had gone to great lengths to transport the corpse intact, even bringing along relevant workers.

That clearly indicated some underlying reason.

What could it be? Had his casual jokes inadvertently triggered cognitive interference?

That was possible, but unlikely. While he had indeed improved the steam engine at the time, his understanding of machinery had been sound.

The modifications he made were limited to peripheral transmission mechanisms.

As for gathering workers to tell stories, those stories did contain many scientific terms, and he had intended to spread scientific knowledge, but he had been killed by that priest before he could even begin.

Speaking of which, the identity of that priest seemed peculiar.

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The former Hughes, of low status, had never come into contact with the Church.

Now, as a lord, he had gained some understanding of the Candlelight Church.

Yet, according to Nora, neither "Investigators" nor "Secretkeeper" would have the appearance of someone covered in gears and metal prosthetics.

Perhaps he could find a chance to subtly probe Beatrice about it.

"Young Master Hughes, Sister Chloe has completed the ritual and sent the workers over. As per your prior instructions, I have settled them on the eastern side of the island, near your experimental base. Our people are stationed nearby to keep watch."

"Good. What about that cultist’s corpse?"

"It was buried in the cemetery in front of the church."

Hughes knew that cemetery. He had passed by it before when visiting Sister Chloe.

At the time, he had wondered why the church had two cemeteries. Now it seemed that believers were buried in the cemetery behind the church, while the one in front was used to seal away cultists.

"Did they perform any rituals? Purification rites for the cultist or anything?"

"There shouldn’t be any," Connor paused. "It was our people who buried the wooden coffin. There aren’t many left in the church, Brother Kaeski has fallen ill, Sister Chloe isn’t strong enough, and the church’s followers, well…"

"What about the followers?"

"The followers have gone to work in our factories. They don’t have time for worship anymore."

Hughes twitched at the corners of his mouth.

Why did this church seem so pitiful?

All the believers had abandoned prayer for wages, and no one was left to attend the church. He wondered how Sister Chloe was managing.

"Alright, leave it for now."

Connor nodded and left. He had many matters to attend to, including arranging the banquet for tomorrow and gathering information on the Joanne family.

Hughes sat in his chair for a while before walking to the door and locking it.

He planned to find an opportunity later to take a look at the corpse of worker Hughes.

Although it had already been buried, digging it up shouldn’t be too difficult.

With only Sister Chloe in the church and Brother Kaeski, who seemed to be an Extraordinary, out of commission, now was the perfect time to investigate.

Speaking of which, could Brother Kaeski be a "Secret Keeper"?

That didn’t seem likely. He was completely different from the previous priest. There were no mechanical components on him at all.

"Never mind, I should contact the Sirens first. I’ll need their help for this investigation."

Hughes had no intention of blatantly digging up a grave.

The area around the church had a dense forest, making it easy to hide.

A plan was gradually forming in his mind.

"Hmm?"

Just as Hughes activated his Mind Link to summon the Banshees, a thought suddenly struck him.

On the Golden Throne, he had always possessed the body of worker Hughes.

After his death, that body had displayed the fatal wound on its chest.

Then—

"If the corpse changes, will it be reflected on that body as well?"

Hiss—

This was something he had never considered before, but it was easy to verify.

He glanced at the locked door, found a comfortable position, and slowly closed his eyes.

On the Golden Throne, Hughes’ expression gradually became more animated.

Soon, he withdrew his gaze from Lord Hughes. The noble youth’s head drooped like a puppet.

"Back again."

His eyes shifted to the chairs beside the long table.

A robust middle-aged man, an elderly man with white hair, a priest in a white robe, and a young man.

He first looked at the middle-aged man.

"Hmm, the first time I descended, I was a farmer. I quietly farmed for a while, then was killed by bandits on my way to a nearby town."

The farmer’s chest bore several bullet wounds.

Hughes turned his head.

"The second time, I descended at the port, found clues about the local Brotherhood, and tried to investigate the existence of Extraordinary power. Unfortunately, I exposed myself and was killed."

Then, he looked at the priest and frowned.

"This body has been here ever since I transmigrated. I can’t descend into it, nor can I communicate through it. Something seems off."

He stared at the white-robed priest, but the priest kept his head bowed, his face obscured by shadows, unlike the other shells that met his gaze.

"Hmm, and then there’s worker Hughes. The wound on his chest seems normal, untouched. It looks like it only records the state of the moment of death."

He deliberately avoided worker Hughes’ eyes.

If he looked into the shell’s eyes, it would turn to face him, initiating a descent.

But as long as he avoided eye contact, nothing should happen.

— At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

As he stared at the wound, worker Hughes slowly turned around and looked toward the Golden Throne.

In Hughes’ horrified gaze, the worker tilted his head.