Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Chapter 6: The Symbiosis Ritual

Hughes suddenly heard a voice softly ask beside his ear, "Is this true?"

The voice was sharp and weak.

"Of course, it’s true, you—" Hughes instinctively responded, then turned toward the direction of the voice, only to be completely stunned.

In front of him was that ugly, disgusting monster.

Was it?

It actually spoke to him!?

Hughes' entire body stiffened, and he subconsciously reached for his holster, but he stopped just before grabbing his gun.

His firearm could only fire once, and besides, this was not yet the time to use it.

It was broad daylight, and he was surrounded by his citizens and soldiers.

The monster before him was as weak as a piece of rotting flesh and didn’t seem capable of posing a threat to him.

There was no need for an overreaction.

Calm down, calm down, take a deep breath.

While trying to steady himself, he turned to look at the people around him, and to his surprise, no one seemed to have noticed anything.

Did they not hear it?

No, that shouldn't be possible. With so many people here, was he the only one who heard it?

That didn’t seem likely.

At that moment, the voice spoke again.

"The water… the pressure… and reaching the deep sea… is all of that true?"

Hughes stared at the lump of "strange fish" sprawled on the ground.

He was now certain—it was indeed the one speaking to him, and the voice was something only he could hear.

No one else noticed it at all.

Extraordinary!

This was definitely some kind of extraordinary power!

A power beyond the Church!

Hughes felt his throat go dry.

He had a loaded pistol in his arms, and with just a shout, his soldiers would come to his aid.

Meanwhile, the monster before him was merely struggling to survive.

This might be a good opportunity to come into contact with the extraordinary.

Fixing his gaze on the flesh pile on the ground, Hughes attempted to reply in his mind, "Are you the one talking to me?"

"Yes." The voice responded quickly, with a sense of urgency. "So, is it true?"

Hughes paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words before replying in his mind, "I don’t know your exact situation, but these are my judgments based on what I know. I can only guarantee that I have not deceived you."

The strange fish remained silent for a long time.

When it finally spoke again, Hughes vaguely sensed that its voice was trembling.

"I see… So this is the truth…"

What was it talking about?

Why did it sound so sorrowful and full of resentment?

Before Hughes could figure out how to probe further, the voice of the strange fish came again.

"I have… a request."

"I want to bring this knowledge back to my people… so that my kin… will no longer suffer from this cursed water pressure."

"But as you can see… I don’t have much time left."

"So… would you be willing to enter a symbiotic contract with me?"

The strange fish’s voice became intermittent, visibly growing weaker and more frail.

Hughes frowned.

This sounded too much like a scam.

A creature that should belong to the deep sea… yet it didn’t know what was happening to itself?

It was clearly capable of communication, yet it only spoke to him now?

And this so-called "symbiotic contract"—it sounded more like some kind of parasitism.

It would gain life force, but what would he lose in return?

Thinking carefully, the timing of its request was also highly suspicious.

It didn’t die earlier, nor later, but just happened to act like it was dying right after speaking to him.

This was a classic trick—a con artist’s ploy to create urgency, forcing a rushed, irrational decision.

With that in mind, the correct course of action became clear.

"Alright. How do we perform this ritual?"

"Touch… me… and then—"

Hughes extended his hand without hesitation.

Joking aside, even if this was a scam, it was a chance to grasp real extraordinary power.

"Lord Hughes" was just a shell.

He had already burned through several bodies before, yet he had never even come close to touching the extraordinary.

Forget scams, he would even jump into a pit of fire if it meant a chance at power.

Besides, no matter what kind of contract it was, the worst outcome would simply be immediate death, he could just switch to another body.

Hughes could fully afford this risk.

As for whether the contract would have deeper consequences, preventing even his death from being an escape…

Hughes chuckled.

He didn’t believe any contract had the power to drag his soul out of the Golden Throne.

Although he didn’t know exactly what the Golden Throne was, it had to be something that transcended death itself.

There was no way its rank was low.

So, he had no hesitation whatsoever.

No matter what the contract entailed, he could accept it.

At worst, he would return to the Golden Throne in an instant.

Still, on instinct, he moved his left hand to the inside of his coat, where a hidden pocket contained his flintlock pistol.

Carefully, he cocked the hammer, ensuring he could fire with just a slight movement of his finger.

Contrary to his expectations, the flesh of the strange fish wasn’t sticky or disgusting, it was cold, with a very peculiar texture.

At that moment, the monster’s voice echoed in his mind.

"Thank you… for your trust. I will now tell you about… what!? Impossible!!!"

The monster's voice suddenly rose in shock.

Hughes froze.

What happened!?

He immediately felt the cold, slimy sensation on his hand turn scorching hot.

At that moment, it was as if his senses had merged with the creature’s, he could directly perceive its emotions.

Hughes' face turned pale, while the monster’s wounds healed, its cracked skin regaining some vitality.

A wave of dizziness hit him.

Ah… So this ritual is draining my life force to heal it.

Am I about to die?

Under his coat, Hughes’ hand gripped his pistol. It was just a thin layer of fabric, if he pulled the trigger, the bullet would tear through the monster’s feeble flesh.

At this range, he wouldn’t miss.

Should he shoot?

Perhaps due to the ritual’s effects, he could vaguely sense the creature’s thoughts.

From the emotions emanating from its bloated, decayed body… there didn’t seem to be any malice.

Hughes sighed inwardly and released the hammer, then withdrew his hand.

The pistol returned to the pocket of his coat.

Since he had already gambled, he might as well go all in.

At worst, he would just die.

Hughes watched as the people around him rushed forward. His vision started to blur.

Just before losing consciousness, Hughes struggled to lift his gaze toward the monster on the ground.

If he was going to die because of this thing, he might as well remember what it looked like.

The monster’s condition had clearly improved.

Though still bloated and pale, it appeared much more energetic.

And on its grotesque face… was an expression of pure shock.

Shock?

What was it so shocked about?

It was the one who proposed the ritual, did something go wrong?

Could it be that… it never intended to kill him?

Was this all just an accident?

Am I really that unlucky…?

Hughes smiled bitterly at the thought.

Then, his vision went completely dark.