Munitions Empire

He walked between Tagg and Wes, tossing the blood-stained revolver to Wes, "It's yours now!"

Wes subconsciously caught the revolver thrown by Tang Mo, and at the instant of catching it, he was ecstatic. He examined the weapon in his hand closely, no longer caring about Tagg, who was rubbing his nose.

"Don't take it too hard, I know you're an officer; leading troops in battle is your forte, a duel is a bit of underusing your abilities," Tang Mo comforted as he looked at Tagg holding his nose.

"I know I lost, when you lose, you lose," said Tagg as he released his nose, and Tang Mo saw it had turned purple and blue.

It seemed Wes had thrown a heavy punch with no intention of holding back. Tang Mo felt somewhat disdainful of Wes for such behavior in a duel; it indeed seemed a bit shameless to aim for the face.

"I will make some of these revolvers soon and send them to Lord Earl," Tang Mo said with a smile, "I'll save one for you too."

"Thank you, thank you…" Tagg, who had been somewhat dejected, suddenly didn't know what to say upon hearing Tang Mo's offer.

Indeed, as Tang Mo said, Tagg excelled at leading troops into the fray and at making the right decisions in the smoke of battle, resisting the enemy stubbornly for final victory. Though he was strong in personal combat, it truly was a waste of his talents.

For a moment, Tagg felt a surge of emotional connection to Tang Mo. However, his attention soon returned to the revolver capable of consecutive shots.

He really wanted to know, if a troop could fire six times consecutively after breaking into an enemy formation on the battlefield, what kind of panic it would cause the enemy.

Even as a veteran military officer, he dared not imagine such a scene. In his mind, if he faced enemies who could fire continuously at close range, he would certainly become frightened and then retreat.

At this moment, he was even convinced that Count Fisheo had already won the next war! Because Tang Mo's weapon had completely changed the way wars were fought!

Receiving the revolver from Tang Mo, Wes's face broke into a smile again. He caressed the cold metal of the gun, feeling for a moment like he was the most formidable man in the world.

"Come to my office later, I'll teach you how to load it. It's quite valuable and needs upkeep, oiling, or it might jam," Tang Mo reminded him.

It was then that Wes snapped back to reality, realizing he actually didn't know how to use this mysterious weapon.

"You come too," Tang Mo then invited Tagg, "You'll need to learn as well, I'm not going to teach it twice."

The current state of the revolver was nothing like that of the simple and easy-to-use Left-Wheel Handgun; it was merely a prototype!

Percussion caps, paper cartridges—these new contraptions had overturned the old flintlock system but also introduced their own set of problems.

To ensure that the revolver would fire when needed, preliminary preparations were extremely important. You couldn't just pull it out and shoot; it required careful preparation before battle to be effective!

The separate percussion caps that fitted on the cylinder were easy to dislodge, so they were usually placed on the rear of the cylinder just before combat erupted.

And the paper cartridges also required careful loading, using the lever under the barrel to pack them tightly, ensuring the bullet would stay in the chamber and be fired when necessary.

In short, it was a very troublesome matter, and Tang Mo himself practiced for a long time in his office before he mastered this complex pre-battle procedure.

Halfway to his destination, Tang Mo seemed to recall something and said to the men, "You go ahead, I need to speak with Roger about something."

Watching the two men's retreating backs, he remarked to the old Roger beside him, "Both are quite formidable."

Having faced life-and-death struggles and lived a precarious existence before crossing over, Tang Mo could naturally tell that Tagg and Wes were exceptional fighters, even by his old world's standards.

But such people—one had already pledged loyalty to someone else, and the other's loyalty remained a question—made Tang Mo increasingly feel the scarcity of reliable men at his disposal.

Roger's loyalty was unquestionable, but when it came to combat ability, he definitely was not a match for Wes or Tagg.

This sensation of his life being in the hands of others irked Tang Mo, who had been a kingpin in his former life. He wanted to change the current situation, at least to cultivate a more loyal force.

"Yes." Roger nodded, not quite penetrating what Tang Mo was really trying to say.

"The more formidable they are, the more I feel constrained by others," Tang Mo spoke frankly in front of old Roger.

"Now that you mention it... that's true," Roger agreed, nodding slightly, and then looked at Tang Mo: "What do you want to do?"

"The people we've used before, those with good character and high loyalty..." Tang Mo said, looking at Roger: "Can we get them back?"

"A few of them are still making a living in Brunas, shouldn't be a problem," Roger said confidently: "Luff, Bernard, Joy, they should all be there."

"Get them back as much as possible, then we'll pick some young people with clean backgrounds. We need to strengthen the workshop's defense," Tang Mo declared, emphasizing after he finished, "Our own... strength!"

Old Roger pondered, then nodded again: "Okay, leave it to me!"

Tang Mo did not look at Roger again but went straight to his office where Tagg and Wes were waiting for him. He needed to discuss his plans with them.

As the workshop was establishing its armed forces, it was natural to inform Wes, Tang Mo's personal guard this stage; it was necessary to let Tagg know too, as he was the commander of the current workshop defense forces.

It couldn't be helped; the workshop was only so big. Suddently recruiting over a dozen people and training them in shooting and combat could not be hidden from anyone.

Therefore, Tang Mo felt it was better to be upfront and tell everyone, to foster understanding and prevent baseless suspicions.

...

Days went by, and with the efforts of Tang Mo and everyone, the workshop underwent rapid changes.

The second steam engine was assembled, exhausting all Tang Mo's resources but also speeding up his production rate to an unimaginable degree.

With the two steam engines for power, ten lathes achieved mechanical linkage, making part manufacturing faster and more convenient. Dozens of workers gathered around the lathes daily, figuring out how to operate these new machines.

Leaving the second steam engine, returning to his office, Tang Mo washed his face with cold water and asked Roger, who had followed him, "Uncle Roger, how is it going with the people I asked you to find?"

There was a well in the workshop, and a set of canvas equipment for collecting rainwater. If it rained, workers would set up the tent-like equipment to catch and store the rainwater.

It couldn't be helped, because the groundwater near the sea was not that tasteful, a result of the geographical environment.

Tang Mo had grown accustomed to the taste of the water here—after all, there were no high-end devices like water purifiers back then.

And in that era, there weren't any real toothpastes, so many people's teeth looked as horrific as those of monsters.

Tang Mo found some fragrant plants and used the ancient method of cleaning the mouth. He planned to make some toothpaste for himself since he could find the information but lamented the lack of materials and had to endure for the time being.

This was not a convenient time because many things Tang Mo was familiar with had not yet appeared.

And Tang Mo, a merchant with not much capital, could not turn what he had into reality immediately—he had a steam engine, but couldn't even dare to think of trains, which were closely associated with steam engines, for a while!

Where would he get the steel to lay as tracks? Where would he find a large number of railway ties? How would he ensure that the rails laid on the ground wouldn't be ripped up and sold by the destitute people of this era?

A series of problems had no immediate solution, so for Tang Mo, cars might be more suitable than trains for him at present.

Roger threw his dirty gloves onto a chair beside him, found another chair to sit down, and began to speak to Tang Mo: "Truth be told, I don't know many Rangers. However, there are a few people who roamed the south with your father back in the day."

"They all worked with your father before, you know. After all, a weapons manufacturing workshop without several guards would definitely not do," he said with self-deprecating laughter, leaning back in his chair, as if reminiscing.

Tang Mo also knew that the workshop indeed had a few 'security guards' who usually protected the premises to prevent troublemakers. When there were dealings, they escorted the goods, resembling couriers at that time.

However, when the workshop's business was declining, all these people left. They were not production workers, so naturally, they were of no use during tough times.