Add camphor to nitrocellulose.
Heat.
Pressurize.
"Boom!"
Mr. Norwood emotionlessly casts a Cleansing Spell.
Garrett silently strengthens his protective barrier.
Seraila calmly blows out a breath of icy mist.
Mage Linde’s senior, a necromancer from the Black Crow Swamp, swiftly makes several hand gestures, gathering negative energy to repair a skeleton.
"Again!"
—This is the advantage of necromancers in industrial production. The frontline workers are all various skeletons; necromancers simply stand far away, using ntal power to remotely observe and manipulate their skeletons, working hard.
If anything burns or explodes, at worst, a few skeletons are wasted. The necromancer himself remains completely unhard.
"Mind the operating temperature... don’t exceed 100 degrees..." Garrett advises expressionlessly:
"Don’t let the pressure rise too quickly... pay attention to the heat dissipation of the raw materials... if not, throw around so freezing rays..."
Ah, just making celluloid, why is it so hard!
After countless "booms," explosions, and burns, the necromancers finally mastered the production thod. Though clumsy, at least they managed to produce:
Making celluloid, pressing it into thin sheets;
Producing silver iodide, vibrating it into microparticles with ntal power, evenly distributed in gelatin;
Coating it onto celluloid sheets, allowing the silver iodide gelatin to set;
Then...
"Smile!"
Seraila shouts joyfully. With a snap, a flash spell explodes, and the film imdiately captures a blurry human figure.
...Great, this eliminates the need for those smoke-emitting magnesium lights, directly rubbing to create light...
Garrett mutters to himself, facing the silver dragon maiden, he lifts a happy smile. In this transaction, he truly gained a lot:
Black Crow Swamp paid a one-ti fee of 2000 contribution points for the celluloid film patent;
Afterwards, for each piece of film sold, they would pay him 15% of the sales revenue as royalties;
More importantly, for the next ten years, Garrett has a stake in all subsequent research and new products based on this technology from Black Crow Swamp—earning 5% of the profits—
Of course, he needs to first use up the initial 2000 contribution points before considering further inco. But Garrett is confident about future earnings:
Joking, this is celluloid!
It’s plastic, the very first plastic! The person who first developed this thing beca a millionaire not long after!
"You guys change its ratio, temperature, and pressure, try a few more tis, you should be able to produce different types of films." Garrett recalls from mory, advising the necromancer receiving the technology:
"Transparent, opaque, translucent, you should have all kinds. Oh, you can try changing the base material of nitrocellulose, increase or decrease materials, but you can’t reduce the camphor..."
The necromancer writes furiously. Every piece of this information is a treasure, each convertible into money. Though they seem more useful for alteration types...
"Stack different transparency films, try making more interesting things. Like, say, imitation ivory?"
Back then, didn’t soone use imitation ivory to make billiard balls? Does this world have billiards? Or other recreational items?
The necromancer’s pen slows slightly. What’s the point of imitation ivory? In this era, those who can afford real ivory, who would use a fake?
Those who can afford real ivory, for valuable items, who can’t afford to hire a mage to cast an identification spell?
"Right, rember to dye it! Dye it!" Garrett suddenly slaps his forehead. Almost forgot, celluloid has a very important role in dical research:
"When the dyeing succeeds—preferably into a bright red—call , I’ll show you a vascular casting! It’s those real biological, physically existing vessels!"
"Understood! Will do!" The eyes of Linde’s fellow disciples brighten, gleaming like a flash spell.
"Okay!"
Snap!
Seraila takes out a film from the side, directly casting a true Flash Spell. Before the two necromancers can cover their eyes, she retracts the film, happily drifting away:
"Hehe, got another one!"
Necromancer: "..."
Can I get the film back?
Can I?
It’s said that this thing might capture souls... though whether it’s possible or not is still unknown, a team from the school is researching... but can I get the film back?
Or, could this beautiful lady please not photograph ?
Obviously impossible. Before coming here, Linde had secretly instructed him: In the Mage Tower, don’t ss with this elf maiden. First, you can’t beat her, and second, even if you could, we can’t afford to provoke her background...
The necromancer
leaves sowhat anxiously, casually leaving behind a bag of chips. Garrett’s order, he delivered it on his way here:
Garrett’s 2000 contribution points, he gave half to Mage Norwood, to distribute to the follow-up team, and the other half instantly bought chips.
With the transaction complete, Garrett no longer worries. He returns to the central hub of the Mage Tower, taking out a tube of blood samples, continuing to accumulate data:
"Click."
"Click."
"Click."
Another 1000 contribution points spent. Ah, this bottomless pit-like data accumulation process, who knows when it will end...
If this money runs out and no funds co in, he’ll have to fleece two temples... especially the Temple of the War God, their transfusion is precisely the weakness of healing spells, they should have a need...
"Click—"
Wait, why does this sound off?
Garrett suddenly opens his eyes. A ter in front of him, Seraila holds a smooth copper box, filled with who knows how many films, clicking away at him...
"Se...rai...la..."
Garrett is exasperated. Where’s your lens? Your focus? I see nothing, just this box, what are you trying to capture?
"Ah, Garrett, I’m not capturing your soul! Really not!" Seraila quickly retracts the box behind her, taking a leap back:
"I just wanted to record you casting spells! That chip is expensive, this homade one, cheap!"
She says this while rapidly retreating, finishing these two sentences, she’s already reached the doorway, turning to run. Garrett is both annoyed and amused:
"Co back!—What are you keeping this film for? It’ll spoil in two months!"
"Ah?"
Seraila stops imdiately. She fumbles, pulling out a film from the small box. The film dims upon exposure to light, and within a few breaths, Garrett’s bright smile vanishes without a trace.
"Ah... this..."
Seraila stares blankly at the film, unconsciously pouting, her face turning from sunny to cloudy, cloudy to overcast, looking like it’s about to turn stormy. Garrett wipes sweat:
Miss, this won’t work, just having the negative isn’t enough, without developing and fixing, what’s captured is useless!
—Right, how are developer and fixer formulated again? Completely can’t rember...
Since he can’t rember, Garrett doesn’t dare to bluff. Fortunately, Seraila stands still for a mont, already thinking of a solution:
"Darkness!"
A shout, and the central hub of the Mage Tower instantly plunges into darkness. Seraila, holding the small box, raises her voice, clear and crisp:
"MOSS! MOSS, are you there?"
She’s stayed in the Mage Tower so long, already authorized by Garrett, the tower spirit imdiately responds. Seraila takes out a film from the small box, extending it forward in the darkness:
"MOSS, can you record the image on this film, print it out for ?"
"Already recorded, lady." The tower spirit, not sure what function it loaded, still successfully records in the darkness, responds promptly:
"Can’t print, Mage Tower lacks related components." After a mont of silence, it speaks again:
"Related printing components, trading center price, 500 contribution points each."
...Can’t afford it. Luckily, this can be saved up slowly, wait until Garrett’s financial situation improves. Seraila pouts, dispelling the Darkness:
"MOSS, can you display the image, show it to ?"
"Of course, lady." The screen lights up, projecting a tiny human figure, only palm-sized. Seraila glances over, imdiately displeased:
"Hey, why so small? Make it bigger?"
Making it bigger only worsens it. The features blur, the nose and eyes barely discernible, edges like countless black and white squares. Seraila grows more disappointed as she looks:
"What’s the point if it’s so small... can’t even tell who is who... a waste..."
This, the image is too blurry, mainly because the silver halide particles are too coarse, unevenly distributed. Garrett wipes sweat:
"Maybe... Seraila, why don’t you try making so film yourself? Use ntal power to crush the silver salts as finely as possible, distribute them evenly in the gelatin? Then fit your box with a lens..."
After all, potassium iodide, silver nitrate, nitric acid, cotton, camphor, and such aren’t very expensive, setting up a lab for Seraila to play around in for a long ti. As for silver bromide and such...
Joking, no mage has refined bromine yet, letting Seraila do it herself would be too painful. Mainly because that stuff stinks, is poisonous, dropping it on skin corrodes yellow wounds that never scar, never pus, just rot
ting!
Although Seraila is a silver dragon, her scales might be more corrosion-resistant, but it’s still not worth the risk!
Seraila happily goes off to do it herself.
This film, buying costs 5 gold coins per piece, making it herself, 1 gold coin’s cost, can make a huge sheet, cut out 100 pieces and still have plenty.
Plus, she can play in Garrett’s lab...
"Seraila, rember to make less at a ti!" Garrett advises worriedly from behind:
"Slow down, make sure to cool it, definitely cool it... follow the steps, don’t add random stuff... fully activate protections..."
"Got it! If anything goes wrong, I’ll just release a frost mist!"
Miss Silver Dragon confidently responds. She closes the lab door, raises all defenses, dragon scales shimring just beneath her skin, takes a breath of icy mist, begins operating...
"Boom!!!"
The entire Mage Tower shakes.
MOSS goes into a frenzy, the alarm sounding piercingly. It releases invisible servants, herding everyone out of the Mage Tower.
Only Garrett, fully armored, uses the authority of the tower master to unlock the door, rushing into the lab:
"Seraila, what were you doing just now!"
Seraila’s ear tips and neck gleam with silver light, dragon scales brilliantly exposed. She turns a smoke-stained face, blinking her eyes, her voice bewildered:
"I, I just poured in the silver nitrate... ah, mixed up, that cup was alcohol!"
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