Let go of that monster girl!

Peel off the top piece of paper.

Teacher Ma's eyes widened.

On the white paper below, a black cartoon lime is clearly printed.

The lines were complete and the outline was distinct; it was exactly the one that Morren had just drawn with his stylus.

This piece of paper coated with slime was simply transformed into a woodblock print!

Molen looked at the stunned expression on Ma Niang's face, and then at the beautifully printed cartoon lime on his hand, feeling very satisfied.

Transcription and printing, isn't that amazing?

In Molen's previous life, if one was born before the new century, one should have seen mimeographed materials.

Those documents are often handwritten and usually contain a few typos. After you receive them, someone will always come and tell you to correct a certain word on a certain page and line.

That is copying and printing.

Find a piece of wax paper, write or draw on it with a stylus, scrape off the wax layer with the stylus, and then apply ink. The ink can only penetrate the unwaxed parts, thus transferring the written content onto the white paper below.

The principle is simple, and the operation is also simple.

But this was high technology in the 19th century.

The problem lies in the wax on the waxed paper.

Beeswax is too fragile, and animal fats will seep into the paper fibers, making it impossible to scrape off.

Therefore, paraffin wax must be used.

Paraffin wax is a byproduct of petroleum and was not available in the Middle Ages.

Is there something that has moderate toughness and strength, and properties similar to wax?

some.

I had already experimented with slime gel when casting cannons using the lost-wax casting method.

Of course, slime doesn't melt when heated, so it can't be applied to paper using ordinary methods; you have to get a pot and let the slime do the work itself.

Molen handed the piece of paper with the cartoon print to Lyme.

She still had the bottomless pot around her neck. She took the paper with both hands, looked down, and could only see the inner wall of the pot.

Lyme tried his best to lift the painting above his head.

Unfortunately, my arms were too short and the pot was too big. When I raised my arm halfway up, it got stuck on the edge of the pot, and I couldn't reach it any further.

Undeterred, Lem tried again, straining with both hands to reach upwards.

boo.

Her head fell off her neck.

The light green, round head rolled onto the ground along with the iron pot.

The alchemical rats all gaped open, while Teacher Ma covered her own mouth.

It's nothing unusual.

Moren bent down, lifted the pot, and cupped Lyme's head in his hands.

The little face winked at Morren, its expression remaining calm, as if it had just fallen off a hat.

After reattaching the neck, Lem looked down at the painting in his hand.

The little cartoon character with the round head was smiling at her.

Lem also gave a small smile.

Chapter 69 Building Spiritual Civilization

Molen designated the day the month of calamity ended as the first day of rest.

The mice work in three shifts, so each mouse must rest for one shift after working six shifts.

Rest is mandatory unless in an emergency; overtime work will result in deductions from the foreman's attendance record.

Seven days passed quickly.

The first day off has arrived.

Moren sat by the city wall, looking down at the roads and mine entrances beyond the low hills.

The mouse girls below were scattered in twos and threes, some staring blankly, others hugging their tails.

Some strolled slowly along the Cheese River, taking two steps, stopping, then taking two more steps and stopping again.

Several mouse girls gathered around a pile of snow, idly making snowballs. After they finished making one, they didn't throw it away, but made another one on the spot.

The entire hill was permeated with an air of aimless idleness.

"We're so bored, do you want to go help out in the kitchen?"

"No, the Baron said that no one is allowed to work today except for the rats on duty."

"Oh no, I haven't finished mining yet."

"The new mining tracks are still far from complete."

The mindset of having nothing to do is completely different from the mindset of having something to do but not doing it.

In fact, during the last month of disaster, most rat girls had already had a fairly leisurely month.

The underground mining tracks were all dismantled by Morren and installed on the city walls, making it impossible to mine normally.

It's not very safe to go out in the open either; no one is allowed to go out without the Baron's permission.

Aside from taking turns casting and installing new underground mine rails, the rats spent most of their time sewing clothes, playing cards, or doing odd jobs.

During the month of disaster, we were forced to stay idle; there was no other way, so we could play in peace.

There's a ton of work to do right now, but the Baron says nobody's allowed to touch it today.

Just thinking about the mines that can still be dug, the hammers that can still be hammered, and the jars that can still be made...

Their little heads were filled with anxiety, making it impossible for them to get a proper rest.

Moren looked at the listless rat girls below and could understand their feelings.

The concept of a weekend was first proposed by the Catholic Church, but it was limited to officials.

Moreover, the only reason the Old Church set up weekends was because those officials used to have a full 183 days off a year.

The Vatican couldn't stand it anymore, so it forced a rule of resting one day on every seven days by simply copying doctrine.

For those rat girls who dig stones in the ground, the concept of a weekend or even a day off has never even been heard of.

They face a starting tax of 70%, which occasionally rises to 50% or even 100%.

The nobles had absolute power over their subjects.

As long as it doesn't involve church believers, you can sell all the rat girls in your territory and consider it a great success.

High-ranking nobles would often send a subordinate directly to the town or the territory of a minor noble to make a solemn announcement.

Because of some reason that the countess just came up with last night, you've ended up owing taxes for another ten years.

Not paying?

If you don't hand it over, plenty of rat mothers will.

Those who don't hand it in should go to the Dark Zone and gnaw on Chimera Beasts.

Aishan didn't submit it.

So Dwarf Mountain was indeed gnawing on Chimera in the dark zone.

Gradually, in an atmosphere where if you don't work today, you won't survive tomorrow, a certain idea has become taken for granted, even considered noble.

"Living is for the sake of working."

Sleeping is so that you have the energy to mine tomorrow; eating is so that you have the strength to mine tomorrow; and having offspring is so that you can mine more and better mines for the lord.

As a beneficiary, Molen wasn't in a hurry to deny this point; he simply wanted to point out another possibility.

If possible, he hoped the rats would understand that there are many things more important than ore.

With gunpowder and acid, we don't need so many rats or so much time to mine more ore.

That's the real meaning of increasing productivity.

A sudden commotion broke out in the square.

"Let me see, let me see."

A group of mouse girls huddled together, a dozen little heads clustered together, vying to pass a piece of paper.

That was the first issue of the pictorial magazine.

The paper contained only black lines, and the first page depicted a scene of mine rats fighting against flesh and blood saplings.

The composition is compact and the action is intense, with one of the mine rats throwing a round bomb at a menacing, fleshy sapling.

Several exaggerated speed lines were drawn behind the bomb.

"This is me!"

A mine rat pointed at the character throwing a bomb in the painting and shouted.

Several miners present simultaneously reached out and grabbed her round ears.

Clearly, they haven't forgotten this reckless fellow.

Skip to the second page, and you'll see Baron Morren dashingly defeating a large group of black foxes, taking on ten opponents single-handedly.

In the center of the image, Morren is wearing a cloak, holding a sword in one hand, with a fallen black fox under his feet, and several other black foxes around him being knocked into the air.

The Morren above is drawn with exceptional detail and looks incredibly handsome. The folds and shadows of his clothes are meticulously rendered with hatching, making him stand out from the other characters in terms of style.

"The Baron is so handsome."

"That's right."

"That's not right! The Baron isn't that weak. He ate a hundred black foxes in one bite!"

A mouse girl pointed to several words at the bottom of the screen, moving them over one letter at a time.

Although the letters were marked with phonetic symbols, it was clear that the mouse girls didn't even recognize them.

“Baron… Mo... Lun…”

"There aren't that many syllables."

“I can read the phonetic symbols; it’s ‘black fox’.”

"What about this one?"

"Teach me phonetics too."

It's clear that the artist has considerable artistic talent; a total of sixteen small cartoons were drawn on both sides of a newspaper.

From Lyme's inclusion in the Short-term Fungal Forest, to the new market, and the recently concluded month of disaster.

Each frame is meticulously designed, with clean and crisp lines, and the figures' postures and expressions are vivid and powerful. Even the painting masters in the capital city would marvel at it.

Teacher Ma sat on the edge of the square, holding the remaining stack of newspapers, which looked like they had burned out.

The mouse girls discovered the source of the newspaper and immediately swarmed over, countless tiny hands reaching out to her.

"Give me one! Give me one!"

After receiving the newspaper, one of the mouse girls did not run away immediately, but instead looked up at her.

"Teacher, I want to learn to draw."

It's a pretty good start. Maybe I should give Teacher Ma a few more gold coins.

On rest days, the rats can be given a few extra voluntary lessons.

As for Teacher Ma's days off...

Let's give her a few more gold coins...

Moren looked down at the noisy mouse girls scrambling for newspapers and was very satisfied.