Munitions Empire

"This is what you call a ’factory’? This is nothing but a construction site." John hopped off the carriage and looked around before raising an eyebrow at Tang Mo, "You plan to swindle a large sum of money from me with this stuff?"

"To use the word ’swindle’... that’s clearly a bit much," Tang Mo waved his hand, then made a welcoming gesture: "Believe me, those who judge only by appearances are truly superficial."

"Come! Come in and see, and you will know just how great the factory I spoke of really is." As Tang Mo spoke, he gestured to the gatekeeper to open the gate.

In reality, Tang Mo’s factory was only made up of a single stretch of courtyard wall, so the significance of this great gate was purely symbolic, far exceeding its practical function.

Just by looking into the distance, one could see that not far away, the courtyard wall simply "disappeared," replaced by a construction site that looked nothing short of spectacular.

And indeed, that was exactly what John did, for he saw the construction site and the workers who were helping to dismantle the wall bricks.

Since Tang Mo lacked construction materials, the workers had to dismantle one part of the wall to repair another, a task they faced daily. The stretch of wall that had once spanned several hundred meters was now less than twenty meters, just enough to serve as a facade for the entrance.

So, going through the main gate was, in truth, just a custom reluctantly retained for the sake of ritual, as many workers had actually trodden paths elsewhere for convenience...

"It may be a bit rudimentary, but this place is destined to become the hub of future world development, believe me, John, my friend! Compared to what this place is fostering, everything you’ve seen before pales into insignificance!"

He strolled leisurely ahead, watching a group of children with backpacks pass by. When John saw these children marching in a military-like stride on the smooth path as if leaving school, he suddenly felt an illusion—that what marched before him was an army!

To be honest, he had never seen a group of schoolchildren maintain such neat formation, nor had he seen a crowd that never engaged in playful noisy banter.

Even the most elite troops couldn’t guarantee such order outside of training environments, yet here and now, before him stood only a group of children.

Even more astonishingly, upon seeing Tang Mo, the children immediately stopped by the side of the road. They held their chins high, lifted their right hands to Tang Mo, opened their palms, and touched their fingertips to their temples.

Tang Mo also raised his right hand, passing the neat formation like a general. Although the entire procession was silent, the impact it had on John was truly immense.

From that moment on, even without seeing the devices Tang Mo had mentioned, John began to believe that something was indeed being nurtured here, something that could be described as either great or terrifying.

He no longer dared take it lightly, and followed Tang Mo with a solemn gaze, looking at the children who stood there as if on a pilgrimage.

"Are you training them to become your soldiers?" The Elf captain behind John asked curiously, addressing Tang Mo who walked ahead.

"No, they are all my students!" Tang Mo replied proudly. He didn’t lower his voice, but introduced the children loudly, "They are my proudest students!"

Upon hearing Tang Mo’s words, the children held their heads even higher, seemingly indifferent to John, the Elf noble. It was as if they were sizing up John and the others with nothing more than their nostrils.

It was apparent they were proud, proud of the education they had received in the past few months and the many strange pieces of knowledge Tang Mo had imparted to them.

"It shows." John nodded and continued following Tang Mo past the children. Only when Tang Mo had passed the end of the line did the queue begin moving forward again.

As one child’s voice rang out clearly, the children resumed their march, still without noise or confusion; their footsteps seemed to grow prouder after being praised by Tang Mo.

Yes, pride, the word kept repeating in John’s mind—pride. For some reason, he always felt that these children had a touch of nobility in their bones... ṝÄＮő฿ÈȘ

And this time, John confirmed something: When the children heard the command to march in step and then started moving, they all began with their left foot and swung their right hand, their actions uniform and synchronized.

He no longer spoke, but followed Tang Mo, step by step, along the not-so-spacious road until they reached Tang Mo’s first workshop.

The so-called first workshop was the factory where Tang Mo initially mass-produced the K1 Quick Gun. Here, it still served as the main production workshop for the K1 Quick Gun.

Because the workshops Tang Mo had newly built included one for producing revolvers, one for steam engines, and another for producing steel rails and other matching parts, only the original two workshops continued producing the K1 Quick Gun.

This actually also illustrates Tang Mo’s attitude towards the K1 Quick Gun from another perspective—this was merely a transition product, hardly worth too much investment.

Of course, the most important function here, which was why Tang Mo had brought John here for a visit, was to make John happy to pay.

Indeed, upon hearing the rumble of the machinery and seeing dozens of barrels being manufactured at the same time, John and the Elf captain following behind him were completely dumbfounded.

Even though John had prepared himself mentally before entering the workshop, when he saw the steam machines and those complex transmission mechanisms, his poor little brain just crashed.

Yes, his poor brain simply couldn’t process what he was seeing at the moment, just like a graphics card of 710 trying to handle the game ’Cyberpunk 2077’...

He just stood there foolishly, continuously watching the steam engine’s flywheel spinning and the torsion bars reciprocating.

Finally, when he closed the redundant processes in his mind and allowed that small processor to start directing his body again, John suddenly turned around to face Tang Mo.

"You’re using this machine to manufacture barrels fully automatically?" he asked eagerly, pointing at the steam engine that had broken down twice.

Actually, no negotiation tactics were needed anymore, because from his voice, which had already started to falter, it was clear that he wouldn’t miss out on everything before him.

If he were at an auction at that moment, he’d never lower his bidder’s sign; this might be the first time in his life that he truly, from the bottom of his heart to the fiber of his being, believed in spending money like water.

He even dared to boldly shout the slogan he had longed for, yet never easily voiced, "Place your bets! No matter what you offer, I’ll add a Gold Coin!"

"Not exactly," Tang Mo felt some distance from his claim of full automation, so he somewhat embarrassedly said shyly, "In fact, each barrel still requires the operation by a worker."

"So... what you said about one worker being able to drill four barrels in one day, it’s true!" John suddenly remembered some of the "advertisements" Tang Mo had previously mentioned to him.

"Of course it’s true, you can see for yourself... These drills spin at a constant speed and can keep rotating," Tang Mo walked over to the machine and pulled a lever, causing the drill bit to detach from the half-drilled barrel and start idling: "And they can be stopped at any time!"

At that moment, the Elf Race captain standing on the side came to his senses, his eyes noticing the wooden rack in the corner designed to support new guns.

He swallowed hard because on the rack there was a row of completed Tang’s K1 Quick Guns, the wood gleaming with a polished shine.

"You said... that this... machine... is also for sale?" John asked uncertainly to confirm with Tang Mo. He certainly remembered Tang Mo saying that these machines and technology were for sale, but after seeing them, he really didn’t dare to expect such good fortune anymore.

"Yes, they are all for sale," Tang Mo pointed to his steam engine and said with a loud laugh accompanied by its roaring sound, "The steam engine! The transmission! Including the machine tools! All are for sale!"

"And moreover! The manufacturing technology, the production process! All are clearly priced," Tang Mo continued while shaking his head, "But you don’t have that much money anymore! My friend!"

"You go back... collect everything valuable from every person! Rings, gold teeth, jewelry, necklaces, pocket watches, private possessions... promissory notes or land deeds... In short, anything and everything will do! Then total up the price!" John looked at his subordinate, the captain whose mind wasn’t fully clear yet: "Understand?"

"I, I understand." After hearing this command, the captain swallowed nervously and subconsciously nodded.

"Here, take this!" John slid off a ring set with a sapphire from his finger and handed it to Tang Mo without hesitation: "400 Gold Coins!"

He seemed to remember something else, digging out a pure gold case from his pocket, a pocket watch engraved with exquisite patterns: "And this! A master’s treasure! You know this thing is precise, making one isn’t cheap! 300 Gold Coins! No less!"

"Actually..." Seeing John was about to start disrobing, Tang Mo felt his own sky-high price was a bit like taking advantage of an honest person.

And John, having seen the steam engine, couldn’t even bother to haggle. Or rather, he still remembered, but he didn’t dare.

He didn’t dare to speak, didn’t dare to profane the greatness before him. In fact, it was with great effort that he suppressed his intense urge to worship these things.

In just a few minutes, John confirmed something—the path to the rise of the Poplar Kingdom was right in front of him...

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