42. Recipe for Painting Butter
"Manual labor, huh…"
I muttered reluctantly.
The very sound of it already carried a troublesome vibe.
But I had no intention of whining pointlessly about whether there was another way, nor was I in a position to call for a manager. Above all, I had almost no time left. My wristwatch kept vibrating with "Hurry!" I had only about an hour until death.
So, I rallied myself with all my spirit and asked.
"So, what do we do? How do we paint you with this pure white milk? With manual labor, where do we even start?"
"Painting is surprisingly simple," the helicopter frame answered. "Just turn this pool itself into butter."
"How do you make butter?"
When I asked, the frame explained the steps concisely.
1. Prepare heavy cream.
2. Put the heavy cream in a clean container.
3. Shake the container or stir with a mixer.
4. Continue until the fat separates into butter and buttermilk.
5. Strain the butter to remove the buttermilk.
6. Wash the butter with cold water to remove excess moisture.
7. Add salt (skip for unsalted butter).
8. Shape the butter and chill it in the refrigerator.
Feeling the hassle, I immediately continued questioning.
"There's no heavy cream. How do we prepare it?"
"There's plenty of milk here. That's all we've got."
A perfectly reasonable answer. I sighed and asked further.
"So, how do we make heavy cream from milk?"
The helicopter frame continued with the steps.
1. Put whole milk (high fat content) in a container.
2. Let it sit in the refrigerator to allow the cream layer to rise.
3. Carefully skim off the top cream layer with a spoon or dropper.
4. Transfer the collected cream to a clean container and use as heavy cream.
Hearing this, Jinri and I first climbed out of the milk pool.
We accepted pure white towels offered from who-knows-where and wiped our milk-soaked bodies. While wiping, we looked down at the milk pool we'd been submerged in moments ago.
"We have to turn all of this into butter…"
The sheer volume was dizzying, but with Jinri, we might manage.
Rallying our resolve to challenge it, we decided to take the first step.
But a problem immediately arose.
"Is there a refrigerator?"
When I asked, the helicopter frame answered instantly.
"No."
"Then we can't make butter."
As we exchanged such words, a factory arm slid in from the side and spoke in a metallic voice.
"We have a refrigerator."
"Really?" I couldn't help but ask back.
The two tong-like fingers at the arm's tip swayed lightly as it replied.
"Well, it's for cooling our cola and soda. It might not be suited for butter-making, but the purpose of cooling is the same."
A bureaucratic but helpful suggestion. I jumped on it right away.
"Then, could you bring that refrigerator? Please."
"Understood."
The arms headed to the break room and soon carried over the refrigerator.
It was slightly smaller than the pool but large enough to chill most of the milk at once. However, it was packed tightly with glass bottles of cola and soda, and removing them all took quite a bit of time.
"Now, we put the milk in the refrigerator, but there's no container. What do we do?"
The arm asked.
I suggested a bit awkwardly.
"Sorry, but can we use these cola and soda bottles?"
"That's fine, but to empty them, we'll have to drink or discard the contents."
"Discarding would be wasteful…"
As I muttered that, the arm suddenly pulled out a megaphone-like speaker and called out in a voice that echoed throughout the factory.
"Everyone, take a break! Let's have a sip!"
At that, the working arms all stopped in unison and shuffled over to our production line. Each grabbed their preferred carbonated drink and began drinking from mouth-like parts in the center of their joints.
In the blink of an eye, thousands of empty bottles were prepared.
"Thank you!"
Jinri said cheerfully, then proposed the next step.
"Then, let's start by filling these bottles with milk."
"But there's too much…"
Jinri deliberately whined, and the arms that had been chugging their drinks froze. Noticing this, Jinri appealed to them with big, moist eyes.
"Will you help? Please."
The arms exchanged glances, showing hesitant attitudes. But one arm stepped forward and said,
"We're tired of the same tasks every day. A bit of manual labor might not be bad."
"Yeah."
With those words as a trigger, the arms' opinions quickly shifted to "Let's help," and they began filling the empty bottles with milk.
Thanks to them, thousands of milk-filled glass bottles were completed in no time.
"Thank you! You're really saving us!"
Jinri beamed with genuine joy and blew kisses to the arms, who bashfully moved their joints in dance-like gestures in response.
"What's next?" "What's next?" they asked, actively participating in the butter-making.
"Next, we put these bottles in the refrigerator to let the cream layer rise."
We promptly put all the bottles back in the refrigerator and waited.
Soon, a solid cream layer formed in the upper half of the bottles.
With the arms' help, we took out the bottles with risen cream.
"Next, we skim this cream with a dropper."
But there were no droppers.
As we puzzled over what to do, other arms who had heard rumors of us manually making butter on the malfunctioning line came from another building in the power plant, bringing a massive number of droppers.
Thanks to them, we smoothly skimmed the cream.
The skimmed cream was steadily transferred to the now-empty pool after the milk had been bottled. The arms were completely engrossed in the task, seeming to enjoy it even more than Jinri and I.
"So, that means we've prepared the heavy cream."
The helicopter frame, who had been overseeing the process with arms crossed like a supervisor, guided us to the next stage.
"We can really make butter now, so let's get started."
"Yeah, what's next again?"
When I asked, the frame replied with a slightly exasperated tone.
"You have a bad memory."
It was unavoidable for someone with amnesia. I waited with a wry smile, and the frame continued in a slightly apologetic tone.
"Sorry. Next, we stir this with a mixer."
"Leave it to us!"
The arms answered in unison, as if in chorus.
Their arms were originally drill-spec, and by changing the fingertips to mixer blades, they instantly transformed into the finest mixers in Tropical Night City. The arms plunged their arms into the pool filled with heavy cream and began stirring briskly.
The sound was vibrant, like a newborn star, in stark contrast to the listless quiet noise when we first entered the factory.
As the arms diligently stirred the heavy cream, the fat gradually separated, dividing into butter and buttermilk. The color barely changed, but the texture clearly split into two layers, with the heavy butter sinking to the bottom and the light buttermilk floating on top.
The arms now switched their arms from mixers to giant spoons—more accurately, rugged shapes closer to excavators—and carefully scooped up the buttermilk.
Perhaps the use of tools rarely employed in this aircraft manufacturing factory was refreshing, as cheers and joyful voices rose one after another from the arms.
With no place or separate container for the scooped buttermilk, it had no choice but to be poured onto the factory floor. The thick buttermilk soaked into the light gray epoxy resin floor, spreading beautiful patterns like marble cookies.
The entire factory was enveloped in a fragrant, sweet air, making the atmosphere even more festive.
The work progressed enjoyably and quickly, and the butter remaining in the pool was cooled by the arms switching their arms to fan-like shapes, blowing away the remaining moisture with wind.
Finally, mixing in zinc powder procured from who-knows-where as a substitute for salt, I, Jinri, the helicopter frame, and all the helping arms shouted in unison.
"Done!"
Thus, the painting butter was completed.