Munitions Empire

Wes had just managed to move the tree trunk that blocked the way when he returned to find the bandit lying on the ground, having suffered serious injuries, no longer making any sounds.

It wasn't that Tang Mo had delivered a finishing blow; rather, the other had bled out too much and quickly lost consciousness. In this era, with a shortage of doctors and medicine, being shot through the internal organs by a firearm meant that, even if one didn't die immediately, there was little hope for recovery.

This wasn't a battlefield, yet there lingered a nauseating smell. The sound of insects resumed all around, everything seemingly returning to silence.

The smell of gunpowder had faded, no longer masking the scent of fresh blood scattered on the ground. Wes, looking at the bodies strewn haphazardly under the light, hadn't yet managed to shake off the shock.

In the past, he would have disdained such menial labor as moving roadblocks, an activity suitable only for minions.

Yet today, upon hearing Tang Mo's command, his legs had moved on their own accord, sweating profusely as he moved the log without even considering calling for Tang Mo and Roger's help.

At this moment, as he returned and saw the corpses at his feet, he still felt a sense of unreality.

A terrifying weapon that fired five shots! Damn it... he had even come up with a name for the weapon while moving the trunk—Ranger Slayer!

If such a weapon were to spread, people like him would probably be out of options. Mercenary work could be done by anyone in the future—just buy one of these guns, and that's all it would take!

"Wes!..." It was Tang Mo who spoke first, breaking the night's silence, "I hope you won't share today's events with Lord Earl."

"Why... why not." Wes was taken aback, and as he looked towards Tang Mo, he suddenly found this young man to be rather unfathomable.

In the script that had hazily formed in his mind, shouldn't it have gone like this: Tang Mo's actual intention was to present this secret weapon capable of firing five shots—Lord Earl would surely be overjoyed, and their cooperation would unfold smoothly.

Was there even a need for him to play out the rest in his head? Such weapons would immediately appear on the battlefield, and with the outbreak of war, they would proliferate. Shireck would start mass-producing them immediately, selling them at low prices to dominate the market and crush all competition.

Though the ending was already written, Tang Mo would have made enough Gold Coins before being crushed to last several lifetimes... Wasn't that his purpose?

But what he never expected was that Tang Mo... Tang Mo actually requested he not tell the Earl about this secret weapon. What kind of move was this?

"I only came up with this thing a few days ago, and it's not yet a mature product ready for sale," Tang Mo explained. "My visit to Lord Earl is to sell the K1 Quick Gun, so I don't want any complications."

"You said earlier that you were willing to stay and work for me... I think it's time to talk about that," Tang Mo glanced at Wes and continued, "Since you say you have loyalty, I hope now you can give it to me."

If it had been earlier when taking on such a deal, Wes would have been very casual. He would have thanked his employer with a smile, saying he wouldn't let them down or something along those lines.

In fact, he did have a reputation for reliability, a principle upon which his survival depended. But now, he fell silent, staring fixedly at the young man standing in front of the carriage under the faintly trembling gas lamp light.

"What's wrong? Weren't you quite eloquent earlier?" Tang Mo again broke the silence, taking the lead in asking.

"It's a very dangerous job, but I suspect the rewards must be enormous," Wes spoke gravely, his gaze locked on Tang Mo, "I'm wondering if I have the luck to receive the share of bounty that's rightfully mine."

"I can wait a bit longer," Tang Mo shrugged.

"Very well, I am at your service!" Wes placed his hand on his chest and bowed slightly, speaking solemnly, "From this moment on, I am no longer a Ranger; I shall become your Knight."

"Excellent! My Knight, let's go. We need to reach Northern Ridge by tomorrow morning, and the journey of over a hundred miles is no easy task." Tang Mo turned, leapt onto the carriage, and then shut its door, which still had an arrow lodged in it.

If someone in this world could really determine another person's future by reading their face, Tang Mo didn't believe it.

He was more inclined to trust data analysis, a comprehensive evaluation based on facts and interests.

So Tang Mo knew that Wes's willingness to stay and work for him was definitely not because he saw anything the likes of a ruler's aura in Tang Mo. Instead, the other had stayed on, betting on a prospect, a future.

No matter how one looked at it, the K1 Quick Gun developed by Tang Mo was certainly a pointer towards the future direction of weapons development; and the secret weapon, the Left-Wheel Handgun, was also a bargaining chip.

By joining Tang Mo's forces early on, one would be sure to reap greater benefits when Tang Mo rose to power. That was why Wes was tempted, and ultimately why he decided to join.

This behavior of "burning the cold stove" is actually not hard to understand. Just like investing, as long as everything goes smoothly, you can make a fortune.

So... what if Tang Mo failed?

Of course, there's nothing to be surprised about; it's just an investment gone wrong. Tang Mo felt that when that time truly came, Wes would certainly not hesitate to disassociate himself from Tang Mo and throw his so-called loyalty into the trash—by then, he wouldn't face any issues or be implicated in any way.

For Wes personally, this was a no-lose deal, and as for Tang Mo, he actually didn't care either.

After all, he also needed someone like Wes who was well-informed and skillful to help out. Besides, Tang Mo had always wanted to find a security guard for the workshop, and since Wes offered himself up for the role, it can be considered making the best use of him.

As for loyalty, what a joke! Tang Mo was no child; he didn't believe in so-called loyalty. He just needed Wes to provide him with some safety against thieves—just like a moment ago.

Old Roger was a blacksmith, a decent engineer, but he was not a qualified warrior. This much was crystal clear from the recent skirmish, as Old Roger, who was only in charge of loading the ammunition, had trembling hands!

Having such a trusted person manage the enterprise, arrange production, or even personally participate in the work is reassuring, but it is a bit too much to expect him to face danger alongside oneself.

If Tang Mo had another option, he would not have brought Old Roger to the Vicious Forest for an adventure. But there was no help for it; Tang Mo really couldn't find any other suitable candidates to be his attendant.

Although Wes was still not up to the task in the short term, it was evident that with Wes by his side, some minor conflicts could be handled without troubling Old Roger anymore.

Wes gave a slight bow, watching Tang Mo get onto the carriage before going to prepare the carriage again. It was then that he remembered, during the recent gunfire, neither of the horses pulling the carriage had become nervous or neighed in panic.

But then he figured it out; the horses at the munitions workshop were used to the sound of gunfire, they were probably acclimatized by now...

He guessed right. When Tang Mo experimented with weapons, he often did it near the stables. On one hand, it was to train the horses to become accustomed to the sound of gunfire, and on the other hand, it was because there really was nowhere else in the workshop suitable for him to carry out his tests.

The carriage hit the road once again, leaving the bodies by the roadside that no one cared about. The world was such a place: the unfortunate were everywhere in the wilderness—some were of passing merchants, some were of bandits who blocked roads... who cared about them?

Sitting on the slightly bumping and shaking carriage, Tang Mo reloaded his Left-Wheel Handgun with new ammo, all the while laughing at the somewhat blushing Roger.

Despite Roger's boasts about his youth when he could stare down three robbers without a change in expression, it now seemed that such talk was not very truthful.

The recent battle had revealed Old Roger's true capabilities; he had never truly experienced real combat. His hands had trembled so badly that he couldn't even load the bullets into the gun.

You should know, his hands were actually very steady, reliable as a lathe when it came to polishing parts. But those hands were shaking terribly a moment ago.

"Leave such matters to us from now on," Tang Mo said, pushing a bullet through the predefined slot into the cylinder and then using the rod underneath the barrel to firmly seat the ammo.

Then he rotated the cylinder, starting to clean another emptied chamber, which still contained bits of paper casing and unburnt residues.

Before the invention of metal cartridge cases, loading ammunition into firearms was actually a very troublesome affair. Even though Tang Mo could create a revolver that fired continuously, this fact could not be changed.

Only with the development of smokeless powder that burned quickly and left almost no residue, packed into a metal fixed cartridge, did weapons become truly capable of meaningful rapid fire in combat conditions.

That kind of rapid firing followed by immediate reloading of new ammunition was nearly synonymous with suicide at the current time—residues in the chamber or cylinder could affect the bullet's ignition, causing misfires, backfires, barrel explosions, or duds...

Throughout history, the care of weapons has always been an aspect of military training; the more carefully one maintains their weapon, the more it can help its owner gain an advantage on the battlefield.

Thus, ancient warriors polished and oiled their Longswords, and later Soldiers had to maintain their bolts and barrels with oil and brushes.

"I'm old. It will be your young people's world from now on," said Old Roger, somewhat embarrassed.

"No, Uncle Roger, you will soon find that you are busier than you are now," said Tang Mo, joking with Roger while repeating the tedious process to load new bullets into the chamber.

In a sense, this new Left-Wheel Handgun was like enjoying twenty seconds of comfort for half an hour of discomfort—it was a semi-finished product.

Because of the immaturity of the ammunition, it couldn't yet become a true epoch-making weapon. However, Tang Mo would soon use his golden touch to develop smokeless powder, so updated weapons would soon appear, changing the existing rules of warfare.