The 'shitton' in my interpretation was only 250 knives—one for each Craftsman Bee and Material Forager, plus so extras.
It took only a day for my Craftsn Bees to make them. Most of that ti was spent explaining the process to the line, uneducated, Craftsn Bees, as well as gathering materials.
Material Foragers quickly understood that Craftsn Bees needed more bones. But then things got complicated.
"Father, I have a question!" a Sergeant Material Forager exclaid after I finished explaining. "Do bees have bones inside, Father?"
"Yeah, of course! You can even feel them! Wait, why are you asking?.."
The Sergeant already turned to a bee next to her.
"Then this task is gonna be *easy*, just *so* easy. We can simply check near the garbage pile! It must be full of bones."
A garbage pile? Did she an the place right under our mountain? The place where all the garbage and the corpses—
I gasped and clutched my head with realization.
"Oh no. No, you can't just make knives out of *bee* bones!"
The Sergeant Material Forager turned to and tilted her head, puzzled.
"Why, Father? Are they not good for this?"
'Oh, co on, Nectus,' an insidious voice inside spoke. 'The bones Material Foragers brought yesterday were probably bee bones, too. Those bees are dead, anyway—you can take whatever you want from them. Don't be such a pussy! Nobody but you care about shit like "morals" here. Be rational.'
I hated this voice a little. Or a lot. Especially because it was right.
"Forget it! Yes, you can take bee bones. Sure. Just… wash them with water beforehand."
"Sure thing, Father!"
I sighed.
The soap wasn't invented yet, either.
***
All those morally questionable choices paid off, at least.
Next day, I gathered my Sergeant Craftsn in a workshop again. All of us were smiling excitedly. They—because they were anticipating the next pearl of wisdom from. —because of all the new possibilities.
A pile of new materials was waiting already: a heap of thin bark pieces and grass stems.
"Now that all of you have knives, you can make all sorts of other tools. Like even better knives. You don't even need to teach you much anymore, I bet."
The bees cheered.
"We will be super useful to the hive!"
"I can't wait to see what we can do with these knives!"
"I've already cut a lot of things up. Branches for hamrs—they are much easier to split with knives! Can't wait to see what other tools there are—are they just as amazing?"
Feeling all warm and fuzzy with adoration, I patted the nearest Sergeant Bee on the head. She bead wider and her wings beat with excitent.
Her colleagues looked at us enviously. I chuckled and went to give a head pat to each.
'My daughters are so smart and technically adult, but they are still so adorable… I'm blessed with them, really.'
Mostly because the hive had Nurse Bees to care about all my children until they could care for themselves. Thank Goddess of Bees for that! (She was still a bitch.)
"Alright, I've already asked Material Foragers to prepare so things for today's experints. You have knives to cut things apart, and now you will learn how to make an essential item to connect things together!"
This ti, I didn't participate—I just gave my Sergeant Craftsn general directions, and told them to spread them to their subordinates.
110 bees in a dozen workshops experinted, cut the stems and bark, twisted them together and softened them up by bending or soaking them in water.
A lot of materials were wasted by the end of the day. A lot of them weren't suitable in the first place.
But by evening, I got another notification.
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