Chapter 144
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: A Joke That's Dead Serious (1)
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Quarry.
A place where stone is literally dug out.
It’s a facility that can secure large quantities of high-quality stone for all sorts of construction projects, sculptures, and other various uses.
It was also the facility Lloyd needed most right now.
‘Of course it is. To properly build the grand sewer system, massive amounts of stone are essential.’
This sewer system would cover the entire scope of Frontera County.
Not just the existing central village, but also the Marez Reclaimed Land, the Eastern Mountains reclamation sites, and even the northern apartment complex.
It was a truly vast construction project that would encompass it all.
Naturally, it would require an enormous amount of stone.
‘Sure, we could use rebar and cement too. Since we have Bangul. But realistically? That’s pretty much impossible.’
The rebar and cement Bangul was producing right now.
Most of it would go into the apartment complex construction.
There wouldn’t be enough left over to deploy for the grand sewer system too.
No matter how much he pushed Bangul, that’s how it would be.
‘Phantasmal species aren’t machines, after all.’
They were living creatures.
They naturally had limits.
He couldn’t overwork them beyond those limits.
‘I can’t do that. Bangul’s butt would wear out and tear apart.’
Even now, Bangul was constantly expelling rebar with a puhuaak every day.
Cement bursting out like a volcanic eruption with a ku-kwaang.
Bangul’s butt had no time to rest.
He was already carefully managing it, feeding only the best soil to prevent it from chafing.
‘So Bangul’s at his limit. I can’t make him work any harder. That means the grand sewer system should be built primarily with stone rather than cement. It’ll be more advantageous for long-term maintenance too.’
Cement was a magical material.
But that didn’t make it a miracle cure-all.
Over long periods, it would crack and crumble.
Every time that happened, it needed meticulous inspections and repairs.
Fill the cracks, patch the crumbled spots.
That’s how cement structures lasted.
‘Otherwise, they wear out surprisingly fast and collapse. You see it a lot in rural areas—abandoned buildings left unmanaged.’
Lloyd didn’t want this grand sewer system to end up like that.
It was a project into which he’d pour tremendous effort and time.
He wanted it to last as long as possible, sturdy and enduring.
‘That’s why stone is the way to go for this construction.’
The grand sewer system would be a structure difficult to maintain.
Moisture would accelerate its deterioration.
And with its vast scope, darkness, and foul odors, inspections and upkeep would be brutally tough.
That’s why.
It needed to require as little human intervention as possible.
Even infrequent checks and repairs had to hold up.
‘That’s exactly what stone provides. Granite, in particular.’
Granite.
What we call “ssukdol” in our tongue, a type of stone.
Granite’s internal structure is extremely uniform.
In simple terms, it has no grain.
Without grain, it doesn’t warp, split, or crack in any direction.
‘In other words, it doesn’t deform even after ages. That’s why it’s widely used for base stones in semiconductor equipment or precision measuring devices that demand ultra-precision. The stones used in curling are granite too.’
It withstands immense loads with ease.
Even water can’t penetrate its interior.
It perfectly defends against external contamination.
That’s why it’s often used in lighthouses built in harsh coastal environments.
Once erected, it could be left untouched for years without deforming.
Such sturdiness and resistance to deformation.
A lifespan you could confidently call eternal.
Lloyd believed granite was the most suitable material for this grand sewer project.
That’s why.
“Here to there. Today, we’re building a quarry. So what do we do? We dig out every last bit of soil from the slope. Alright, let’s get started. With a hearty cheer. Begin!”
The southern foothills boundary of Racona Viscountcy.
Lloyd’s hand pointed to that area.
The Engineering Corps, White Lancers, and Orc Warriors all gripped shovels.
Podong, now grown to ten meters, gleamed with sharp eyes.
Bibung shook out his spire-sized front paws, loosening up.
Even the five baby Mastodons raised by Sir Bayern joined in.
“Ppuuuaaaang-!”
They were now around seven to eight months old, having grown to twice the size of a bull—the five Mastodon siblings.
Stroked by Sir Bayern, they diligently pulled large plows.
‘Good. As expected, big projects need heavy equipment.’
Lloyd’s eyes, surveying the site, filled with satisfaction.
He had already investigated the area early on using the “Underground Scanning” option of his Surveying skill.
Thanks to that, he’d discovered thick granite bedrock starting three meters below the slope’s surface.
That’s why.
He’d marked this spot as the quarry site from the start.
With the plan set, he’d visited Viscount Racona.
He’d extracted the viscount’s consent, more or less by force.
He’d pushed forward the quarry development plan.
Since he was doing it, he’d do it swiftly and cleanly.
Under that motto, he’d brought every available manpower and phantasmal species.
“Forget trees or whatever—bulldoze it all! Until the bedrock is exposed!”
“Uooo!”
“Kkuik!”
“Ppong!”
“Bibung!”
“Ppuuuaaaang!”
Lloyd took the lead, shovel in hand.
He even deployed the Asrahan Heart Method, demonstrating textbook shoveling.
The Engineering Corps members, who prided themselves on their seasoned experience with shoveling and construction, looked at him with admiration and awe.
The White Lancers, confident in their stamina, burned with rivalry and shoveled even more furiously.
The Orc Warriors, who’d been treating today’s digging as exercise, flexed their massive pecs in competitive spirit.
Everyone’s pace gained momentum.
Six days passed like that.
The southern foothills of Racona Viscountcy.
The slope there had perfectly transformed into a quarry.
The dense trees were gone.
The moist piled soil had all been cleared.
In their place, the granite bedrock lay fully exposed.
‘Alright, next up: the transport route to haul the quarried stone.’
Digging stone wasn’t the whole job.
The dug stone had to be smoothly transported to the site.
But stone was inherently large and heavy.
So roads had to be paved for easy transport.
Lloyd called Sir Bayern.
“Paved road construction. You know the drill from before?”
“Yes, of course.”
“The method’s the same as last time. Width and depth of excavation, specs and sequence of fill materials. You remember it all?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Just in case, I’ll detail it in the blueprints. I’ll assign Podong daily like before. And about 150 Engineering Corps personnel—should be enough?”
“Yes, that’ll suffice.”
“Good. The route starts at the quarry, heads north through Marez Reclaimed Land to this point in the territory. Just follow the construction plan and blueprints to the letter. And one more thing: make all roads as straight as possible. Keep that in mind.”
“Yes, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Alright. I’ll trust you.”
“Yes, leave it to me.”
Lloyd assigned Sir Bayern the “Territory Southern Highway Construction.”
A man who’d commanded the Engineering Corps for three years now, overseeing various constructions. As taciturn as he was reliable.
Even so, Lloyd still had mountains of work left.
‘Alright, next: apartment complex construction.’
Spring had arrived.
It was time to resume apartment construction, halted by freeze-thaw cycles.
Especially to finish move-ins before next winter, no day could be wasted.
‘Still, it’s a relief I have someone reliable to handle the apartments while I focus on the sewer.’
He grinned.
Then turned to the elf archer beside him.
“Right, Muira?”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I’m glad to have work again.”
At Lloyd’s question, the elf chieftain Muira smiled faintly.
She glanced at the Honeybee Apartment 103 site, where foundation work had just begun.
“Truth be told, I was bored stiff all winter. I’d been praying for spring to come soon.”
“Praying?”
“I wanted to roam high-rise apartment sites.”
Elf Muira’s gaze turned to the completed Building 102 standing tall.
“I still can’t forget early winter. Running around the eighth floor of Building 102 like the wind. Honestly, it was a first for me.”
Her voice grew slightly dreamy.
She still couldn’t forget it.
The dizzyingly high top of the towering structure.
Darting between the jagged rebar tips.
The thrill of stepping on the apartment exterior walls and safety nets, slicing through the wind.
It was a sensation bordering on ecstasy.
“The other elves felt the same, waiting for spring. They’re all fired up to raise Building 103 ASAP.”
So they could soon climb the exterior walls and soar.
And with dozens of such apartments lined up?
They could leap from rooftop to rooftop like squirrels.
Just imagining it was exhilarating.
“Good. But no rushed, shoddy work to speed things up. Of course, you’re as meticulous as I am, so that won’t happen.”
“Yes, no need to worry. We’ve already memorized all the blueprints you gave us perfectly.”
Elves were meticulous and thorough.
They’d gained experience overseeing Building 102’s eighth floor last winter.
They could handle the apartment site for a while.
Elves were born rebar workers, after all.
Assign them rebar assembly and formwork.
Support with some seasoned Engineering Corps vets, and it’d be fine.
Then what about him?
‘I’ll just inspect and supervise occasionally.’
Of course, he had no intention of slacking.
No, he couldn’t even if he wanted to.
There were other tasks only he could do.
Namely, surveying for the grand sewer construction.
‘Whew. No rest at all—this real?’
From the next day, he roamed the entire territory.
Constantly using the Asrahan Heart Method.
Replenishing mana sufficiently.
Firing off Surveying skill nonstop.
Over days, he scanned the territory’s terrain, features, and subsurface structure up to five meters deep—without missing a single needle’s eye.
Meanwhile, he conceptualized the sewer model.
‘Better make it a much larger structure than embedded concrete pipes. Not pipes, but wide underground passages big enough for people to enter.’
That way, sewer maintenance would be easier.
If clogs or issues arose, people could enter directly to fix them.
‘So go big. Like the sewers in movies set in modern European cities.’
A central channel for filth and sewage to flow.
Flanking walkways for people to traverse.
That’s how he envisioned it.
‘The cross-section for sewage flow should be inverted egg-shaped at the bottom. That’ll speed up flow and reduce debris buildup.’
The plan solidified in his mind.
But Lloyd’s worries didn’t end.
No, as the sewer outline took shape, his concerns grew.
One persistent problem defied all surveying and designs.
‘Hmm. Sludge disposal is the biggest issue, as expected.’
Sludge.
Also called “oni” or sewage sludge, it was the final precipitate from sewage treatment.
Sewage collected via drains.
Left in one place long enough, water and solids separate.
Water floats up, heavy dregs sink.
The settled muck is sludge.
Then you collect, thicken, decompose with microbes, and dewater the remnants.
‘Bury it, dump in the sea, or incinerate. That’s how the modern world handles sludge.’
Implementing that here felt daunting.
‘I can handle collection. Build a sludge thickener at the sewer terminus. Route all sewage there, let sludge settle. But then what to do with the collected sludge?’
Deploy the Engineering Corps?
Scoop it out and bury it?
Lloyd shook his head.
‘No, impossible.’
The volume would be immense.
Odor aside, toxic gases would be no joke.
Sludge was concentrated, compressed human waste, decomposed organics.
Methane and massive gases generated in real-time—send people in, and they’d suffocate en masse.
‘It wouldn’t spare Engineering Corps, Orc Warriors, or elves.’
Nor could he make phantasmal species do it.
Even if somehow scooped safely, another issue: no suitable burial site.
‘No space in our territory. Haul it far away? That’s trespassing. Even if empty land exists? The labor costs alone for that volume are absurd. Tsk. What now?’
Deep wrinkles creased Lloyd’s brow.
‘Best would be incinerating it all in one go with overwhelming heat.’
Gases, microbes, waste solids—poof, to ash.
How convenient that would be.
From then on.
Lloyd holed up in his bedroom.
Pondered for two days and nights.
On the third day.
He emerged and summoned Haviel.
Then said.
“Let’s go on a picnic.”
“……Pardon?”
Haviel’s eyebrow twitched.
He shot a suspicious question.
“A picnic out of nowhere? Where to, and for what?”
“Dragon’s lair. To meet a dragon.”
“…….”
As if saying he was heading to a restaurant for a meal.
Or to a cafe for coffee.
Lloyd’s reply was delivered so casually, as if it were the most natural thing.
So Haviel dismissed it as idle jest.
Up to this very moment, at least.