Mr. Rat of the Steam World

Chapter 105 The Raven That Can Tell Fortunes
In the factory's open space, the dim lights still shone brightly, and the low roar of the machines had not completely subsided.

Jenna stood in the middle of the open space with her arms crossed, feeling a bit cold from the night wind.

The gray rats around her, in groups of three or five, were busy moving parts or cleaning their posts after their night shift, casting curious or wary glances at her, but that was all.

The previous fear was somewhat lessened by this strange order, but the anxiety of being imprisoned still made her uneasy.

Suddenly, a familiar "caw" sound, mixed with anger and anxiety, came from afar and grew closer!

"Stupid woman! You foolish, forgetful idiot!"

A huge, dark shadow swept down with a whoosh, landing with a thud on the open ground in front of Jenna. It was Bobo, its feathers fluffy, its large black eyes filled with the exasperation of someone who had just escaped death.

Jenna's eyes lit up instantly: "Bobo! You're alright!"

Bobo flapped its wings, almost jumping up: "Gah! What could possibly happen to me! You're the one in trouble! You almost got buried! I knew something bad was going to happen sooner or later! Why did you have to come to this godforsaken place! You know I was almost murdered by a mouse... Gah!"

It suddenly realized that it was still on someone else's territory, and swallowed the rest of its words. It warily scanned the surrounding rats, especially the one that had just come with it, the one with its paws crossed over its chest, the one called Money-Grubber.

It's just a tiny mouse, no bigger than the palm of your hand, so why does it give you such a strong sense of danger?

"Let's go, let's go!" Bobo tugged at Jenna's trouser leg with his paw and whispered, "Get out of this awful place! If we stay any longer, Lady Bobo will probably have nightmares!"

The money-grubber stepped forward at the opportune moment, a gentle yet undeniable smile on his face: "Ms. Jenna, your partner has come to pick you up. As for what to say and what not to say once you get back, you should know what to say and what not to say."

Its speech was very proper, but its posture was upright. It was among the first batch of mice to develop intelligence, and its behavior was becoming more and more like that of a human.

Jenna looked at Bobo, then at the greedy mouse and the other mice, took a deep breath, and mustered her courage to ask, "Then... my camera..."

The money-grubber's smile remained unchanged, but the coldness beneath the gentleness deepened: "I'm very sorry, ma'am. That machine has already been taken away and destroyed in its entirety."

He pointed to the workshop in the distance as he spoke.

Bang!
The sound of a huge stamping hammer hitting the ground.

The money-grubber's voice was calm, as if stating a matter of course: "I still hope Ms. Jenna can get a good night's sleep tonight. As for the man-eating rat problem, our rat clan will handle it on its own, so you don't need to worry about it."

Bobo also fell silent, unusually, standing at her feet and watching the money-grubber warily.

“…I…I understand.” Jenna nodded with difficulty, her voice a little tight. “I didn’t see anything tonight, I don’t know anything. I was just…unlucky, the equipment broke down.”

“Very good.” The money-grubber nodded in satisfaction, the kind old butler’s smile returning to his hairy face. “Have a peaceful night, madam. Please, the exit is over there.”

It gracefully gestured for the door to open.

Watching Janna stumble along after the constantly complaining Bobo and disappear into the night outside the factory gate, the gentle smile in the money-grubber's eyes vanished completely, leaving only a deep glint and a hint of caution.

It turned its head and whispered to the other scout rats beside it, “You pick a few rats to follow them…make sure they get back to that detached house, and remember her address.”

Afterwards, observe what she does upon returning home and who she contacts. Report any unusual activity, especially if she attempts to contact the media, police, or exhibits any tendency to leak information… immediately.

"Yes, sir!" The scout rat straightened its back, its black fur making it even more camouflaged in the night. Its small figure darted into the shadows in a flash, following the direction Jenna and Bobo had gone, disappearing into the deep darkness with a few leaps. The money-grubber stood still, the dim light casting a long shadow on its body, while the underground factory continued its low hum.

……

The next day, early morning.

"The time is almost up."

A sentinel rat glanced at the time on the wall, then suddenly raised its paw and pressed a button.

Jingle Bell--

"Attention all night shift teams! Dawn is approaching! Prepare for shift handover according to procedure!"

The next moment, the previously orderly and busy swarm of rats changed direction and entered an efficient and coordinated wrap-up process.

Beside the massive steam press, the burly rat team that had just been stepping on the pedals heard the command.

"Squeak! Last batch of blanks! Give it your all!" With the squeak of the command mouse, several groups of gray mice worked together to exert force.

"Bang!" A dull thud, accompanied by sparks, signaled the end of the behemoth's work for the night.

They quickly released the control levers, dipped small brushes in machine oil, and rapidly cleaned away any remaining hot slag and metal debris from the hammers, molds, and bearings.

At the other end, on the precision lathe's control panel, among the few operating mice on the ladder, the one responsible for fine-tuning had its beady eyes pressed against the observation lens, its slender paws rapidly turning the knobs.

"Squeak—Stop!" it commanded, and the lathe cutter slowly moved away from the rapidly spinning part.

Several mice quickly and neatly stacked the last few finished small parts into the designated trolley next to them, while deftly wiping the oil stains on the countertop and control panel with a soft cloth.

The convoy of mice carrying parts immediately changed course. Instead of delivering the parts to the machine, they pushed carts towards the collection point. There, another group of mice was already prepared, quickly sorting and neatly stacking the parts with their tiny paws.

After the machine noise gradually subsided, the tools were tidied up, and the ground was cleaned, most of the night shift rats began to gather in an orderly and quiet manner toward the various entrances leading underground.

The workshop was visibly empty and clean. Only the faint smell of machine oil and metal lingered in the air, along with the residual heat of the machines.

……

Although work starts at eight o'clock, the workers at the Morse factory cherish their jobs, so most of them arrive at the factory gate as early as seven o'clock.

Jacob arrived at around 7:30. He walked from the back of the long line to the front, took out his key to open the door, and instantly a dense crowd of workers surged in.

Soon, Mr. Bernard, the factory's current manager, arrived. He skillfully checked the night shift's output, registered it, and showed no surprise or even curiosity.

The generous Mr. Sherlock paid him a high salary. Having worked in the industry for many years, he had seen too many people lose their jobs, or even their lives, because of curiosity. So now he knew well to do his job well and not to ask questions he shouldn't ask.

It's another beautiful new day.

(End of this chapter)