Chapter 6: Printing Press
I stared at my desk.
Thirty.
Gold.
Coins.
Stacked up in a neat little pile, each one gleaming like it had its own spotlight.
The desk creaked under the weight.
"...Is this the power of a noble...?"
Just a single yes from Lord Halven, and I now had enough money to buy an entire farm.
Or a small village.
Or a hundred years' worth of bread.
But I wasn't here to live rich.
I was here to change the world.
"GTP," I whispered, eyes burning. "Where do I start? What do I need to spend this on?"
[Accessing budget planner. Optimized expense list prepared.]
Printing Press Build – Estimated 12 gold (includes materials, labor, and tools)
Bulk Paper Acquisition – 8 gold
Ink Production Setup – 5 gold
Distribution Prep (Packaging, Branding) – 3 gold
Ergency Reserve – 2 gold
Total: 30 gold. Execution: Fully possible.
I grinned.
"All in, huh? Okay then... Let's go."
The marketplace was lively, but I wasn't there to browse.
I went stall to stall, buying every item I needed like a man possessed.
"Ten barrels of inkroot, three iron plates, that cart of wood, those gears. Wrap it all up."
The rchants stared at in disbelief. So whispered I was the son of a noble.
I didn't correct them.
By the ti I returned ho, the carts were stacked with supplies.
My dad stood at the door, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
"Are we building a castle?"
"No," I said, grinning. "Sothing more powerful."
I dragged everything inside, clearing space in the back room and spreading out the materials.
"Alright, GTP. Tell how this printing machine works."
[The printing press uses a flat bed system with an etched plate mold to transfer ink onto paper. A pressure chanism ensures the ink—]
"GTP... simpler."
[Push plate goes squish. Ink sticks to paper. Done.]
"...Perfect."
I stared at the supplies, rolled up my sleeves, and cracked my knuckles.
"Ti to build the future."
* * *
Inside Lord Halven's manor, the tension was quiet but thick.
The noble sat in his grand chair, fingers laced together, watching as I and two delivery n hauled in the massive contraption.
It was heavy. Dusty. Made of carved wood, tal gears, and bolts. A little crooked in places. But it was mine.
He narrowed his eyes.
"...And what exactly is this?" he asked.
I grinned, wiping sweat from my forehead.
"This... is a printing press."
Five days. That's how long it took.
Five days of non-stop work, gathering parts, assembling gears, screwing in tal plates—
And Chat-GTP guiding my every move like so divine crafting AI.
[Confird. Project: PrintMaster Mk.1 complete.]
I patted the top of the machine like it was a prized horse.
"It works like this: you carve the story into a printing plate—just once. Then you spread ink on it, load paper, pull the lever, and BOOM—perfect copy."
I gestured to the ink rollers and the pressing chanism.
"It presses the ink evenly onto each page. One operator can make dozens of copies a day. If we get a full team on it, we can produce hundreds."
I stepped back proudly.
"This machine isn't just for Titanheart Chronicles. It can be used for flyers, books, announcents, anything. It's the future."
Lord Halven circled the machine slowly, eyes scanning every bolt and gear.
"...I didn't know such a thing was possible," he muttered.
"This is how we change everything," I said. "No more copying by hand. No more slow rollouts. This is mass production."
I pulled a new stack of paper from my satchel.
"Speaking of which—Chapter 4 is done."
I handed it over.
Lord Halven took it, flipped through it slowly.
A smirk touched the edge of his lips.
"...Just as good as the rest," he said.
I nodded.
"But to get these out fast—we need help. People to run the machine. Organize paper. Ink rollers. We need the press running day and night."
He leaned back, steepling his fingers.
"I can help with that. You just keep writing."
I pulled out a sheet of detailed instructions—drawn with diagrams and notes.
"This is how the machine works. Step-by-step."
I laid it in front of him.
"Start printing Chapters 1 through 4 imdiately."
Lord Halven nodded without hesitation.
"Of course."
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