Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 390 We Don't Need Gods

Hughes grinned, but did not answer directly.

He waved to a member of the Guards of the Church beside him, and the young man ran over excitedly, saluted, and occasionally glanced at the prince with curious eyes.

"Give me your gun."

The friar immediately took the rifle from his shoulder. It was an ordinary bolt-action rifle. Since he was on patrol and the cathedral was a very safe place, the bullet was not chambered. Several magazines were also handed to him.

Hughes skillfully opened the receiver cover, removed the recoil spring and bolt assembly, and in a short while, the bolt-action rifle was reduced to a pile of parts.

Many people noticed the commotion and gathered around, even Monica and the other banshees curiously peering over.

After dismantling it, Hughes found another older member of the clergy and had his gun dismantled into parts as well.

The prince frowned in confusion. Bolt-action rifles were the most powerful firearms available at the time. Ever since Hughes gave him one, he had been playing with it from time to time and studying it carefully for a long time. He could also disassemble Hughes's rifles.

The two guns didn't look special at all; he had seen every single part of them before.

He then winked at the prince and began assembling—mixing the parts of the two guns together.

Nope.
The prince suddenly understood what he was about to do and couldn't help but take a deep breath.

It didn't take long for Hughes to assemble the two guns, but it was hard to tell which gun belonged to the young man and which belonged to the other.

The parts of the two guns were completely mixed together.

After loading, Hughes took the magazine, loaded one bullet into each gun, signaled the crowd to make way, and opened fire on a garden in the courtyard.

boom!boom!
Both shots were fired.

The prince swallowed hard, remaining silent.

The idea that parts from any two guns could be interchanged was practically a fantasy in this era.

It's not that there are any difficulties in the craftsmanship. If the prince needs them, he can simply order the craftsmen to make such guns. Not to mention two, even ten would not be difficult.

The key point is that these are just two randomly selected rifles. Hughes has no need to put on a show in such a place. If the prince is not mistaken, all the bolt-action rifle parts in Castells can be interchanged at will.

The entire Castells, all the guns.
Anyone with basic industrial knowledge knows what this means. Although the prince once held the highest power in the empire, he had put in a lot of effort to study industrial production.

Seeing this scene before him was just as shocking as witnessing the succubi's divine appearance at Blood Harbor.

The people around didn't think anything was wrong, as if it were just a normal little thing. They were clapping and applauding Hughes's skillful disassembly and assembly of the gun.

It took the prince a long time to recover. He licked his dry lips, and although his tone was much weaker, he still asked the question:

"This is indeed a remarkable thing, but what does it have to do with the Banshee? I still think it's a waste of efficiency."

Glancing at the still-stubborn prince, Hughes picked up a brand-new magazine and casually asked, "How many bullets do you have left in your bolt-action rifle?"

".Three shots."

This surprised him somewhat. Hughes hadn't given him many bullets in total, and now he still had three left, which could only mean that the prince had almost done everything he could to conserve them.

You wouldn't have guessed, you can be quite stingy sometimes.

"Then what use is the gun after you run out of bullets?" The prince's eyes flickered; he seemed to understand what Hughes meant.

"The banshees are very powerful, invincible on the battlefield, and there are quite a few of them. They can indeed change the course of a battle."

"But everything on the battlefield is a consumable, including human lives. No, especially human lives."

“I could indeed build an army around a banshee, but just like the bolt-action rifle in your hand, once the bullets are gone, it’s nothing more than an iron rod.”

“And Castells will have plenty of battles to fight in the future.” Hughes handed the two guns back to the Papal Guard. “Sir William, you certainly know a lot about industry, but you haven’t grasped its core yet—”

"Anything that is irreplaceable, difficult to replicate, or made by hand in a small workshop can never become the true core of industry."

"No matter how powerful they are, we must eliminate them without hesitation."

"The bolt-action rifle is very powerful, but its greatest strength is not its firepower or accuracy, but its ability to be mass-produced and use interchangeable parts. As long as the materials are provided, it can be produced continuously on the assembly line."

“Your Excellency William, what you just said is a waste of efficiency, but I excluded the Banshees from the tactical system precisely for the sake of efficiency—they are not powerful enough to overturn this system.”

The prince pursed his lips tightly; Hughes's theories were like a bolt from the blue to him.

He has always been a pragmatic and efficient person, sometimes even resorting to unscrupulous means to get things done.

But all of this stemmed from his subjective will. Hughes also pursued pragmatism and efficiency, but his approach was completely different from his.

Hughes built the entire highly efficient system.

Even the strongest prince is still just a person. He can only push forward a project or even drive the entire empire with his own strength, like propelling a rotten carriage forward in a staggering manner.

Hughes, on the other hand, removed the broken parts, not allowing those rotten, chaotic, and inefficient things to exist from the very beginning.

He doesn't need to handle everything personally, yet everything proceeds according to his plan. He doesn't need to be the savior, because the kingdom he builds will never experience these disasters.

The prince suddenly remembered a sentence written by Hughes himself on the title page of the Imperial Truth.

We don't need gods.

The prince stood in the church courtyard for a long time.

He stood there, lost in thought, oblivious to everyone around him. No one knew what he was thinking. He was a smart man, perhaps even the smartest man in the entire empire. No problem had ever troubled him for so long.

So, something that could make him think so carefully must be very important.

Hughes stood aside, watching with great interest, showing no sign of impatience.

Before him stood the supreme ruler of the Duchy of Tis, the lord of this productive, dark, and chaotic era.

He was a feudal nobleman who grew up in a country ruled by the Papacy and nobility, where industry and science were originally out of reach.

Yet he yearns for these things; he has never experienced modern society on Earth, but he is spontaneously pursuing them.

If Hughes opens a new door for him, where will he go?

(There will be two more updates today, but it might be quite late before I finish writing them.)
(End of this chapter)