Ernest opened the door for his mother and smiled.
"Mother, I didn’t know you’d arrive so early," Ernest said.
"What’s that sll?" Anna narrowed her eyes slightly the mont she stepped inside the house.
Ernest internally panicked for half a second but forced himself to remain calm outwardly.
"Oh... that."
Anna slowly removed her shawl while still sniffing the air suspiciously.
"What were you doing?"
"Experinting."
That answer only made her more confused.
"Experinting with what?"
Honestly, Ernest quickly realized how suspicious the kitchen probably looked right now.
Clay bowls filled with gray residue.
Ash stains scattered across the counter.
A greasy iron pot still sitting above the stove.
And several brownish lumps cooling inside shallow molds.
From Anna’s perspective, it probably looked like her son accidentally tried summoning demons through cooking.
She walked toward the kitchen carefully afterward before blinking repeatedly at the ss.
"...By the gods."
Then she pointed toward the molds.
"What is that?"
Ernest scratched the back of his head lightly.
"Soap."
Silence.
Anna stared at him.
Then toward the molds again.
Then back toward Ernest.
"...Soap?"
Clearly, she expected literally any other answer.
"Yes."
Her expression sohow beca even more confused.
"You made soap?"
"Well... I’m trying to."
Anna slowly approached the counter afterward while examining the brown bars carefully.
The soap itself honestly looked terrible.
So parts still slightly soft.
Nothing remotely close to smooth comrcial soap from Earth.
Still, it existed.
Anna frowned slightly while sniffing one carefully.
"It slls strange."
"That’s because it’s not finished yet."
"Finished?"
Ernest nodded quickly.
"It still needs ti to harden."
Anna looked toward the ash-covered bowls afterward.
"And why does the kitchen look like a charcoal pit?"
Honestly, fair question.
Ernest awkwardly laughed slightly.
"Science?"
That word imdiately made Anna stare at him strangely again.
Ever since Ernest recovered from his fever, he constantly said odd things she barely understood.
Still, instead of getting angry, Anna mostly looked concerned.
"...Is this dangerous?"
Actually?
Yes.
Primitive lye absolutely could be dangerous if concentrated badly.
But Ernest obviously could not explain chemical burns and alkaline reactions casually.
"Not really," he answered carefully. "As long as nobody eats it."
Anna looked horrified imdiately.
"Eat it?!"
"I an nobody would want to eat soap anyway."
"Soap?"
She still sounded unconvinced the entire thing even qualified as soap.
Then suddenly, Ernest grabbed one smaller hardened piece from the side carefully.
"This is the finished part."
Well.
Partially finished.
He walked toward the water basin afterward before wetting his hands slightly.
Then he rubbed the crude soap carefully between his palms.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then slowly.
Thin cloudy lather began forming.
Anna’s eyes widened imdiately.
"...What?"
There it was.
The reaction he had been waiting for.
Because to people in this world, cleaning usually ant water alone.
Maybe rough scrubbing with cloth or ash sotis.
But actual foaming soap?
That looked almost magical.
Ernest rubbed his hands together more until bubbles lightly ford across his skin.
Primitive bubbles.
Weak compared to modern soap.
But still soap.
Then he rinsed his hands using water.
The difference beca obvious imdiately.
The greasy feeling disappeared.
His skin actually felt cleaner.
Anna stepped closer afterward while staring at his hands.
"...How did you do that?"
Honestly, Ernest almost smiled seeing her expression.
"I just did, but," Ernest took a sniff on his hand. It slled bad. Well maybe because there was no fragrance yet.
He forgot that part. Well, that’s going to be easy, so long that he finds a proper herb or flower extract.
Mint would work.
Lavender too if this world had sothing similar.
Even citrus oils if he could sohow extract them properly later.
Back on Earth, fragrance was not just about sll either. It was marketing.
People associated pleasant scents with cleanliness.
Which ant scented soap would sell far better than bars slling like cooked pig fat.
Anna watched him mutter to himself again before sighing softly.
"You’re thinking again."
"Sorry."
"No, I an really thinking."
She pointed toward his head lightly.
"Your eyes do that strange thing now."
Ernest awkwardly laughed again before looking toward the soap bars cooling on the counter.
The more he stared at them, the more ideas started forming inside his head.
Better molds.
Cleaner filtration.
Different oil combinations.
Maybe olive oil if this world had it.
Animal fat made rough soap, but vegetable oils usually produced smoother and gentler bars.
Then another thought hit him.
Workers.
The forge workers downstairs slled horrible almost constantly because of sweat and soot buildup.
So even developed skin irritation from grease and coal dust staying on their bodies for days.
And honestly, without proper cleaning agents, infections probably spread easier too.
A simple cleaning product alone could improve hygiene dramatically.
Which ant this was no longer just so random experint.
There was potential here.
Big potential.
Anna suddenly picked up another soap piece cautiously.
"Can this really clean properly?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, if it cleans like you claim to, I’ll help you make it."
Ernest tilted his head to the side. "Wait, seriously mother?"
"Well, I don’t have much to do anyways."
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