Building the First Industrial Empire in Another World

Ernest stepped out from his room and headed straight toward the dining hall.

Back in their original home, the living room would have been just outside his bedroom.

Now?

He had to walk for nearly a minute just to reach it.

Honestly, he still wasn’t used to it.

The estate felt absurdly large.

Several times today he had accidentally taken the wrong hallway.

Once, he even opened the wrong door and ended up inside a guest bedroom.

The place was practically a maze compared to what he grew up with.

Eventually, he reached the dining hall.

And when he got there, he saw his parents already sitting around the long dining table.

Anna sat near the center while Victor occupied the seat beside her.

Both looked strangely relaxed.

Actually, Ernest noticed that immediately.

For years, dinner had been a rushed affair.

Victor returned exhausted from work.

Anna prepared food.

Everyone ate quickly because there was always something else to do afterward.

Now?

Things felt different.

The room itself contributed to it.

The dining hall was large enough to host twelve people.

And standing nearby was Margaret Hale.

The estate’s head cook.

The woman immediately smiled when Ernest entered.

"Good evening, Master Ernest."

"Good evening, Margaret."

Actually, Ernest still felt uncomfortable being called Master Ernest.

But correcting everyone seemed pointless.

That was simply how wealthy households operated.

Margaret gestured toward the table.

"Dinner is ready."

Several covered dishes rested atop the table.

And unlike their old home...

There was a lot of food.

Roasted chicken.

Fresh bread.

Vegetable stew.

Mashed root vegetables.

A platter of sliced fruit.

Even a small dessert.

Anna looked almost embarrassed.

"This is too much."

Margaret immediately shook her head.

"Not at all, madam."

Actually, hearing someone call Anna madam nearly caused Ernest to laugh.

His mother looked equally surprised.

Victor wasn’t doing much better.

The former forge worker sat stiffly in his chair as if he was afraid touching something might break it.

"Father."

Victor looked up.

"What?"

"You know you’re allowed to relax, right?"

"I’m relaxed. It’s just that, I’m not used to this kind of service."

"Well, you better be, because this is how our daily life would operate."

Anna burst into laughter.

Even Margaret struggled not to smile.

Victor grumbled something under his breath before finally relaxing slightly.

Dinner began shortly afterward.

For several minutes, nobody spoke much.

Mostly because everyone was busy eating.

Actually, Margaret was an excellent cook.

The chicken remained juicy.

The vegetables were seasoned properly.

Even the bread tasted fresher than what they usually bought.

Anna finally set her utensils down.

"She’s better than me."

Margaret immediately looked alarmed.

"Oh no, madam, I didn’t mean—"

Anna waved her hand quickly.

"No, no. It’s a compliment."

The cook visibly relaxed afterward.

Meanwhile, Ernest found himself enjoying something he rarely experienced lately.

Indeed the food was good. And while eating, he realized something. There’s something he missed in the modern world. Like steak, french fries, burgers, chicken, you know the comfort food that he’d eat after work. He wondered if he could make a request to her cook?

Definitely she could do it, no question asked. Like he could bring modern engineering principles here, food is way too easy so long there is an ingredient.

After about thirty minutes, they finished their meal.

The dining table that had been filled with dishes only moments ago now sat mostly empty.

Actually, this was another thing Ernest was not used to.

Back in their old home, dinner did not end with people appearing to clean everything.

You ate.

You stood up.

And then someone had to wash dishes.

Usually Anna.

Sometimes Ernest helped.

Occasionally Victor when his mother refused to let him touch anything after returning exhausted from work.

But now?

The moment they finished eating, Alice quietly stepped forward.

The young household servant carried a small tray and began collecting plates with practiced efficiency.

Not long afterward, Sarah entered through a side door and assisted her.

Neither woman interrupted the conversation.

Neither made unnecessary noise.

They simply worked.

Plate after plate disappeared from the table.

Serving bowls followed shortly afterward.

Within minutes, the dining hall looked almost untouched.

Anna watched the process with visible amazement.

Actually, she had been doing that all evening.

Watching the staff.

Watching how they moved.

Watching how organized everything felt.

Eventually, she couldn’t help herself.

"Do they always do that?"

Alice paused slightly.

"Madam?"

"The cleaning."

Alice smiled politely.

"Yes, madam."

Anna looked around the dining hall again.

"They don’t even leave anything behind."

Sarah let out a small laugh.

"That’s usually the goal."

Even Ernest chuckled.

Meanwhile, Victor looked mildly uncomfortable.

The former forge worker still seemed bothered by the idea of other people cleaning after him.

When Alice reached for his plate, he almost picked it up himself.

"I can carry it."

Alice immediately shook her head.

"Please allow me, sir."

Victor looked like he wanted to argue.

Then he glanced at Ernest.

Then at Anna.

Then finally surrendered.

"Right."

Ernest understood exactly how he felt.

The entire thing felt strange.

For most of their lives, they had done everything themselves.

Cooked.

Cleaned.

Washed.

Repaired.

Now they had employees.

That required an adjustment.

Soon the last dishes disappeared through the service entrance leading toward the kitchen.

Margaret poked her head through the doorway shortly afterward.

"Was everything satisfactory?"

Anna immediately nodded.

"More than satisfactory."

The cook smiled proudly.

"I’m glad to hear it."

Then Ernest looked toward her.

"Margaret."

"Yes, Master Ernest?"

Actually, he hesitated for a second.

This was probably going to sound ridiculous.

Especially in a medieval world.

But then again...

He was already building industrial soap factories.

A food request wasn’t exactly the strangest thing he had done.

"How experienced are you with other dishes?"

Margaret blinked. "Sir?"

"No, I was wondering if I could make a personal request on what food I’d want to serve at my table. You know, things like that."

"Well sir, so long that I know the recipe and how it is prepared and cooked, I can definitely make it."

"Good, that’s good, thank you."