Alien Arms Empire

Chapter 2 2 The speaker is unintentional and the listener is interested

"Sir, the fast gun this guy took... is indeed worth it..." After Tang Mo left, a guard beside Baron Stella who had just seen Tang Mo's demonstration said.

The more ordinary-looking guard standing on the other side did not speak, but just stood there thoughtfully.

"It's not bad. Just looking at the rate of fire of that thing, I like it very much." Baron Stella reloaded his flintlock shotgun and responded to the guard's question in a chatty manner.

These guards give him loyalty, so he must be more courteous to the corporal at certain times. This is a means of controlling subordinates, and a way of survival that every noble will learn carefully.

"Then why..." The guard didn't understand why his master gave up so easily since he knew the benefits of that thing.

 In his opinion, having stronger weapons seems to be the most important thing in this troubled world. After all, it is always reassuring to have some advantages when facing the enemy.

The other guard just touched his nose, still looking like it had nothing to do with him.

"The kingdom has four Cyric flintlock workshops, which produce nearly 2,000 new guns and repair another 800 old guns every year. Do you know how much profit there is? How much profit is there?" After the baron finished loading, Looking for his prey at the edge of the forest.

He continued without looking back: "From top to bottom, there are still 150 gold coins distributed to me! It's not a small amount."

Hyric is the name of a consortium. On this continent, the name of the Cyric consortium can really be said to be well-known.

This consortium has a monopoly on the production of weapons in dozens of countries. It has set up workshops in these countries to produce guns, artillery, and various ammunition and equipment.

Relying on various means, Cyric has formed an intricate network of forces in these countries, controlling the majority of military weapons procurement, making huge profits, and even influencing the decision-making of these countries to a certain extent.

"A few months ago, Viscount Hull just invested in the construction of a new Cyric flintlock workshop... Once that workshop is completed, it can produce more than 300 new flintlock guns a year!" He He seemed to be talking to himself and muttered: "How could it be a waste of time?"

"How many such flintlock muskets does the kingdom have in reserve, and how many soldiers are trained to shoot flintlock muskets? Do you know how much it would cost if all these messy things were to be demolished and replaced?" Baron Stella raised his gun. , aiming at a hare in the distance, and continued to ask without looking back.

"Who would be happy if I poked this kind of basket out?" He pulled the trigger, and after a gunshot, the muzzle of the gun and the flintlock bolt beside him sprayed out a cloud of white mist.

"No one will thank me! No one! It will only be a big trouble..." He gave the shotgun in his hand to the guard who wanted to speak, and looked at the hound rushing towards the distant prey, coldly said.

It is the choice for nobles to make money by just lying around and doing nothing else, isn't it? Baron Stella grinned, as if everything was planned by him.

Tang Mo threw his gun into the carriage of the carriage, then closed the door, turned over and sat in the passenger seat in front of the carriage.

The carriage driver who had been waiting for him raised his hands slightly and suddenly swung them down, and the sound of the reins snapping was heard.

Two horses that seemed to be in pretty good condition began to pull the cart and run, and Tang Mo felt the warm wind blowing towards him.

"This is the third house..." While steering the horse forward, the old coachman with a beard said to Tang Mo: "Isn't it done yet?"

He is Tang Mo's housekeeper, a coachman, a blacksmith in Tang Mo's small weapons workshop, and a half-technical engineer.

Anyway, this old man is a confidant who has worked hard with Tang Mo's father until now. Together with Tang Mo's father, he runs the current Tang's weapons workshop.

 It is said to be a weapons workshop, but most of the time what they make most is actually kitchen knives and various farm tools. The best-selling ones are some series of shotguns that are imitations of Cyric flintlocks.

When Tang Mo's father was alive, this weapons workshop also received the job of repairing flintlock guns for the kingdom. At that time, the entire workshop was prosperous, and at its largest scale, it supported more than 200 people.

Unfortunately, the good times did not last long. Tang Mo's parents died unexpectedly, and the Tang's weapons workshop also declined. Until now, it has become a barely maintained situation.

"No!" Tang Mo shook his head and found a comfortable position on the bumpy carriage: "These **** have no sense at all. They are either really stupid or really bad. Anyway, none of them really thought they could win. A war."

He didn't understand why these people would reject him. As long as they were willing to spend money to purchase a batch of new weapons, they would be able to earn back ten or a hundred times on the battlefield in the future.

The life of a soldier is also life, and the life and death of a soldier is also money - such a simple truth, do these noble gentlemen really not know it?

 Do they have too little regard for the lives of their soldiers, or do they know themselves too well and know that it is impossible for them to win even a battle?

Tang Mo complained silently in his heart, and then complained to his old housekeeper full of resentment: "He also extorted a gold coin from me! Damn it!"

"Don't be discouraged. That's how selling things are. It's not easy to get others to pay a penny." Old Roger carefully controlled the carriage while comforting Tang Mo, who was a little disappointed.

He knew that this young Tang syndrome orphan actually had a lot of ideas, because the new weapon behind was made bit by bit with the efforts of him and Tang Mo.

 But, now it seems that the workshop is still in bad luck, and there is obviously no hope of competing with those large weapon workshops. "Failure is the mother of success." Tang Mo sat in front of him to blow the wind, propped his chin on the back of his hand, looked at the road in the distance, and absentmindedly responded to Old Roger's consolation.

 The roads in this era were not that smooth. Although there were springs under the carriage, it was still bumpy. Tang Mo's body swayed slightly as the carriage flew by. Neither of them spoke, and they remained silent for a long time.

 The woods on both sides receded quickly, and the primitive scenery sandwiched the road. They had left the edge of the town, and the carriages and pedestrians passing by had become sparse.

"Believe me, sooner or later, the whole world will use our weapons." After a while, Tang Mo suddenly spoke again and said to old Roger: "Other mediocre people only deserve to follow our footsteps and take away what we don't want." Trash, treat it as treasure.”

"I believe it, I believe there will be such a day." Roger smiled and agreed with Tang Mo.

Although he has confidence in Tang Mo, their situation is really not good now. Tang Mo had just handed over the last gold coin, and it seemed that the money they had left was no longer enough to maintain the normal operation of the workshop.

There are more than 150 people to support in the workshop. Most of these people are craftsmen and they need to be paid every day they work. There are also some apprentices around these people. Although they don't need to be paid, eating horse chews every day still costs a lot of money.

If the entire workshop is profitable, these are obviously Tang Mo's precious assets, but if the entire workshop is losing money, these craftsmen and apprentices are like a noose around Tang Mo's neck.

 …

"Hey! Reiner..." Shortly after Tang Mo's carriage left, in the baron's manor, in a room specifically for servants to rest, the baron's bodyguard walked in carrying a musket and playing with a silver coin in his hand.

He greeted him as soon as he entered the door, and several servants and maids who were resting in the room also nodded to greet him. This person is clearly the guard who was too lazy to speak next to Baron Stella just now.

 “Hey! Wes!” The servant who came here to rest greeted him as the shift change time came, and then lowered his head and continued to clean his leather boots.

There is no decoration in this room, only a few old chairs and a broken table with scratches on it.

The guard who called Weiss pulled up a chair, sat down next to him, crossed his legs, and asked with a smile: "Who just came to demonstrate the new gun?"

He did not speak when the baron was boasting just now, and then he asked the baron to resign on the grounds that an elder in the family was sick and needed someone to take care of him. After getting the Baron's permission, he did not leave immediately, but came here.

"He? A businessman from the province of Bunas." The shoeshine servant answered without raising his head: "He comes from the countryside and probably hasn't seen much of the world."

A freckle-faced maid bowed slightly, walked to the two of them and bowed slightly. It was already time for her to start work, and she had to go to the post to change someone.

"Bunas? Isn't that the seaside?" The guard Weiss gave up his position and let the maid pass between the two, and then continued to talk here and there, as if the conversation had no general direction.

"Well, two fish were delivered from there yesterday... They stinky. Hahaha." The servant named Reiner laughed as he spoke.

 “Hahahaha!” Weiss also laughed, as if he could feel the smell of the fish after it was transported here: “Where is that country bumpkin? What’s his name?”

"Tang Mo, you gave me this one." The servant named Liner put down his half-cleaned boots, took out a small piece of paper from his pocket with the hand that was just in the shoe, and handed it to the guard. .

 Being able to work as a servant for the Baron, you naturally have some basic skills. The servant also figured out the purpose of the guard coming here to find him. Most likely, he came for the young man named Tang Mo.

 So he simply sent a favor. Anyway, everyone worked under the baron, so it was always good to have a good relationship.

Wes frowned, but still took the piece of paper and saw the big words on it: "Tang's Weapons Workshop".

These days, there are strict regulations on the scale of the places that produce things. However, those with a hundred people can only be called small workshops, those with more than 100 people can call themselves workshops, and large workshops with more than 1,000 people are called workshops.

 Guard Weiss turned over the piece of paper and saw a rather detailed address written on the back, followed by a name in slightly larger font - Tang Mo.

"I'll take this thing, is it okay?" Weiss pressed the silver coin in his hand on the table and asked symbolically.

"Of course! It doesn't matter." Reiner shrugged his shoulders, indicating that this thing was not important at all: "This is the first time I have seen such a shabby piece of paper used for a famous post."

"Yeah, interesting guy." Weiss stood up, stuffed Tang Mo's business card into his pocket, opened his legs, and walked towards the door.

"Thanks!" Putting the silver coin into his pocket, the servant looked at the guard who had already walked to the door and said.

Wes, who had already stepped out of the door with one foot, seemed to be thinking about his own things, and waved his hand without looking back: "You're welcome."

 (End of this chapter)