Let go of that monster girl!

Lyme thought to himself.

She had seen boys before, and she had also seen nobles.

When she used to live in the sewers, the corpses of noble ladies who had grown tired of playing with the bodies would often be washed down by the water.

Most of them lack the lower part of the torso, and many bones show signs of being gnawed.

Back then, there was a very knowledgeable mouse girl who also lived in the sewers. She once showed her a recipe book for a noble lady, which terrified her so much that she couldn't sleep well for several weeks.

But the baron in front of him didn't seem so scary.

After returning to his territory, he simply instructed the ratwomen to clean the floating debris from her body, brought her to this room, gave her some good food, and this dress.

Lym stroked the delicate hem of the maid outfit. This was the first time she had ever touched real clothes, the first time someone hadn't worried about her acid damaging the fabric. The unfamiliar feeling of being wrapped up made her inexplicably at ease.

She glanced at Morren again, lost in thought.

Your Excellency, what is he thinking?

But she said nothing in the end, and simply continued to enjoy the ore as her master commanded. The malachite was loose and delicious under her strong acidic chewing, and the stone powder stuck to her transparent lips, which she then licked clean with her tongue.

"As expected, it still has to be a maid outfit," Moren thought to himself.

He leaned back in his chair, abandoning his futile attempt to cut the cake, and his gaze fell on Lyme.

Such a pitiful girl, obediently kneeling in the center of the room, with a bit of smooth skin peeking out from the neckline of her maid outfit, adorned with bright red slave incantations.

Wonderful.

No wonder in novels, time travelers either find maid outfits if they have them, or create them if they don't.

Due to their unique physiological structure, slime girls' green, semi-transparent bodies will not reveal details that require censoring unless absolutely necessary.

But that would be too monotonous. As we all know, sometimes it's better to wear a pair of socks than to remove a piece of clothing.

Hey hey hey.

Molen chuckled inwardly, but maintained an impassive expression on the surface.

After a few bites, Lyme ate much faster. She no longer nibbled at her food in small bites, but instead used both hands to stuff it into her mouth.

She carefully observed Morren's reaction while wolfing down her food, no longer caring about her table manners; she was clearly starving.

Although slime girls can eat almost anything, ordinary stones can barely sustain their lives.

Minerals, gems, precious metals, and those delicacies that even demi-humans find delicious are what slime girls consider "delicious." It seems that malachite also falls into the category of "delicious."

Watching Lyme eat so heartily, Morren poked the remaining piece of cake on the plate with his fork with a hint of envy.

This medieval-style cake has no milk or sugar in its recipe.

Due to the harsh conditions in the low-lying mountain territory, there are no fruits or eggs.

Although the nagging, rat-like cook mom tried her best, the final product was still this kind of mushroom pancake that needed to be sawed open.

Molen handed the plate to Lem.

"This one is for you too."

With Malachite in both hands, Lyme opened her mouth and swallowed the whole cake in one gulp.

The indestructible mushroom pancake stretched into a sphere in her transparent throat, slowly sliding into her body and easily turning into a bubble.

The maid outfit was originally tailored for the short rat girl, and as her body gradually filled out, the buttons began to make a snapping sound under the strain.

Click!

call out--

The button flew off and headed straight for Morren's face.

Molen casually reached out and caught the flying button in his palm.

Lem cowered on the ground in fear, curling up into a ball and trembling.

She stopped as if she felt she had made a mistake, looking at Morren with fear.

"It's okay, let's continue."

Lyme breathed a sigh of relief and continued dealing with the small mountain of ore.

Molen gestured to shoo away the rat girl who was peeking at the commotion outside the door, then turned around and pulled a rusty iron rod from the pile of ore.

This iron rod may have once been a longsword rotting in an armory, made by a rat girl apprentice, made of poorly forged sponge iron, long since rusted black.

"Eat this."

"Hmm... what is this... feeling..."

Lyme mumbled incoherently.

"This feels like a displacement reaction."

As the iron bar was handed back to Morren, its originally rough and uneven surface was now covered with a fine and loose red coating, and even had a slightly moist sheen!

"It really works!"

It's copper, extremely pure copper.

This is what is known as "hydrometallurgy".

As early as more than 200 years BC, in a mysterious Eastern country to which Moren's previous incarnation belonged, someone discovered that iron could displace high-purity copper from bile containing copper sulfate.

Compared to the traditional pyrometallurgical copper smelting process, which requires a complex process to turn the metal from black to red, hydrometallurgy can not only achieve the desired result in one step and easily obtain metals with extremely high purity, but also save huge amounts of fuel and labor costs.

However, in the Middle Ages on Earth, acid was far more precious than fuel and manpower, so it was only available in a very few places with natural liquid minerals.

Now, Morren looked at Lyme with satisfaction, who was looking puzzled.

This inexhaustible liquid mineral is right beside us.

Metal substitution is only the first step in hydrometallurgy. Once the electrolysis technology is further developed, copper can be refined to over 99%, and iron, zinc, lead, and even aluminum can be produced one by one. It's unimaginable how many resources this mine can generate.

That's great! We're going to be rich!

Molen smiled with satisfaction, in a great mood. He patted Lyme's head and pointed to the remaining small mountain of ore.

"Don't eat those iron rods all at once. Eat half of them and set them aside, just like before."

But Lyme didn't move. She knelt on the ground, fidgeting and looking around nervously.

"What's wrong."

A blush crept onto Lyme's cheeks, his gaze darted between the cracks in the floorboards, and finally, in a barely audible voice, he asked a question.

"Master, could you feed me like you did before...?"

Her voice grew softer and softer, and she immediately lowered her head after speaking, the deep blue light spreading all the way to the tips of her ears.

broken.

This slime girl has been given some amazing attributes.

Chapter 3 The Cook

"Don't be fooled by the fact that the young master can be a little perverted, a little strict, and a little morbidly funny at times."

"But he is still a very reliable child. The reason why these rat girls in the Dwarf Mountain Territory have been able to hold on until now is all thanks to his resourcefulness."

The mouse cook sat beside the stove, holding a needle and thread in her small hands.

It was difficult for humans to tell the exact age of the rat girl; her petite, girlish face was framed by an overly composed pair of eyes.

She pushed up her reading glasses on her small face, skillfully twisted the thread at the end of the needle, and continued to mend the maid outfit that was missing a button on the chest.

The stool beneath her bottom was probably designed for human form, with her small feet dangling in mid-air, unable to reach the ground, swaying gently to the tune she hummed and the crackling of the stove.

Lyme obediently squatted in the corner furthest from the fire, his eyes fixed on the needle and thread flying in the cook's hands.

Nearby, the mouse girls were gathered around a long table, several of them huddled together, squeaking and chattering as they sewed a large patchwork bag.

"That's not how the Baron's drawing was done! You've sewed it wrong!"

"You've got the blueprints upside down! Watch this!"

"The bag has no front or back! Give me back the blueprint!"

After each section was sewn, a little mouse girl would jump up and stomp on it a few times to see if it would tear.

Another group of mouse girls were disassembling a device that looked like a wine lever press.

The wooden frame of the press was so tall, several heads taller than the mouse girls. They had to stand on each other's shoulders to form a mouse tower, knocking loose the rusty nails with a clanging sound, their long mouse tails swinging back and forth behind them.

Molen stood beside the press, holding a sketch in his hand, directing several mouse girls to nail as much acid-resistant lead sheeting as possible to the inner wall of the press.

"The nail on the left is crooked! Hold the one on the right steady and be careful!"

The cook cut the thread, looked at the playful mice, smiled gently, and softly said to Lyme:

“Miss Lyme, you may not have seen this big strange thing before. There used to be a large berry orchard outside the hill. I was about the same age as these little guys back then.”

"When the season comes, the hamsters will pick the bright red berries from the bushes, wash them, and put them into that big machine to extract the juice."

"Then the berry juice is poured into oak barrels to make berry wine. On the day the wine is made, everyone fills the square with delicious food, sings and dances to celebrate the harvest."

"Back then, the low hills hadn't fallen into the dark zone yet, and we didn't have to worry about the disaster months. We had stored up food every winter. Sigh."

She sighed and couldn't help but say.

"The good old days always make people sigh."

There's nothing to be sad about.

Molen bent a piece of lead sheet into a right angle with his bare hands and then punched it directly into the seam of the liquid tank.

"There are always more solutions than problems. Once we finish these tasks, we'll go straight to the mushroom grove to pick mushrooms and brew wine."

"Maybe it's because people get old that they tend to reminisce about the past," the cook muttered, her gaze passing over the top of her reading glasses and landing on Moren.

Her eyes narrowed, and the corners of her mouth turned up.

"I always felt like the young master was still a little baby, but now he has grown into such a powerful adult."

When I first held the young master, he was about the size of a mouse egg.

She stuck the needle into the fabric and held up her little hand, gesturing towards Lyme in the air.

Lem blinked and listened intently.

“He was smart from a young age. When I first fed him milk, he blushed and was embarrassed.”

The cook looked at the distance between her hands, smiled, and rubbed her flat chest as if she were still holding the baby in her arms.

“Cute,” Lyme whispered.

“That’s right.” The cook turned to look at Lyme with a loving expression. “I’ll show you the baby bottle that the Baron used another day. I’ve kept it all this time.”

As she spoke, she picked up the sewn maid outfit, shook it, opened the neckline, and compared it to Lym.

"Um……"

The cook squinted, pulled her maid outfit down a bit, and scanned Lyme's body, from his shoulders to his waist, and then from his waist to his chest.

The neckline of the maid outfit reached Lyme's shoulders, but the hem barely covered her buttocks, and it seemed much shorter than a few days ago.

Or perhaps, this seemingly dazed little girl has grown up a bit since a few days ago?

"Reporting to the Baron! It's all secured with lead nails inside!"

A mouse girl holding a hammer poked her head out of the press, her round ears still covered in sawdust.

She hoisted the hammer onto her shoulder, her tail held high, and wore a smug expression.

"Reporting to the Baron! The cloth bag is sewn up as well!"

The few mouse girls in charge of sewing dragged the patchwork bag, which was too big for them. One pulled it from the front, two pushed it from behind, and one was trapped underneath the bag, with only its short little legs sticking out and flailing about.

"here you go."

Molen reached out and touched the head of the lead rat girl. Her round rat ears immediately perked up, and she squinted her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"I want to touch it too!"

"I also want!"

"Me too!"