Chapter 1: 1. All fears stem from insufficient firepower

"Mr. Tang Mo, the Baron is still napping," the servant whispered as he felt the coins in the cloth pocket in his pocket. He smiled and spoke softly to Tang Mo who had already been waiting there for thirty minutes.

Since he had taken the man's bribe, he felt obliged to think more on behalf of him, so with a smile, he added to the somewhat embarrassed man, "He was very busy this morning, so he needs a long rest."

"It's okay," Tang Mo said with an awkward smile. Being a businessman, seeking an audience with the Baron was not an easy task. He had already made two appointments before and had barely made it to today when he was finally granted permission, earning him the right to sit there and wait.

He had just seen the "Romantic Rose" four-wheeled carriage in the courtyard, so of course, he knew what Baron Stela had been busy with that morning.

Probably tussling with a little harlot who cost two Gold Coins for a night until dawn, at this time, no one would bother putting on trousers to deal with a businessman who had come from afar.

Businessman, huh! Lowly businessman. Tang Mo inwardly mocked himself, stood up to send off the servant who took money to ward off disaster, and then slumped back into the chair in the parlor after the latter had left.

He had spent 25 Silver Coins and 75 Copper Coins just for the privilege of sitting here and drinking cold water and was certainly not inclined to leave easily. He did not want that money to go to waste.

So after sitting down, he just quietly stared at his old leather boots that were so worn out the edges were about to split, lost in thought.

Even though he had adapted to this world and accepted the fact that he had suddenly traveled here, he still wasn't quite used to it, not quite used to this dreamlike life.

No wifi, no internet, no electric lights, no phones. No taxis, no airplanes, the entire world suddenly had no convenience to speak of.

Back then, they said being able to make a living in the 21st century was impressive, and they wouldn't trade it for an Emperor of the Tang Dynasty, which turned out to be true... since the Emperors of the Tang Dynasty had never even eaten fried potato chips.

This world didn't even have flies on trousers... Tang Mo looked at his own trousers and once again fell into endless criticism.

The current world is at the very beginning of the industrial civilization, an era where even steam engines are unheard of by most! Gas lamps are just beginning to be popular along the streets of large cities, and four-wheeled carriages are still the most important means of transportation.

Wars rely on flintlock guns and muzzle-loading cannons. Soldiers depend on courage as they form neat lines and march to the beat of the drum, launching fierce charges against the enemy...

The Nobility, ranked in the order of duke, marquis, earl, viscount, and baron, oppress knights, freemen, and slaves alike. Kingdoms are scattered across the world like a jigsaw puzzle—all very different from the era Tang Mo was familiar with.

Tang Mo, having traveled to this place, had become the owner of a weapons manufacturing workshop. His reason for sitting here was to pitch his new weapon.

After what seemed like an eternity, the servant returned once more. This time he didn't enter the room but stood at the door and delivered the news that excited Tang Mo: "The Baron has woken up, and he wants to see you."

"Thank you, thank you!" Tang Mo, who was almost dozing off, immediately stood up, straightened his clothes, and followed the servant out.

Passing through the corridor and past two sets of armor with a sense of age, Tang Mo followed the servant to the courtyard. On the stone-paved path lined with manicured lawns, Baron Stela, dressed in hunting attire, was conversing with two Guards. They occasionally burst into laughter and only stopped when Tang Mo approached.

"Baron," Tang Mo said, bowing his head as a greeting, his attention drawn by the hound the Baron was holding.

It was a slender hunting dog, which began to bare its teeth at the sight of Tang Mo, showing strong aggression and seemingly starved for a day.

The guard proceeded as usual, pulling out the flintlock gun from his waist, swiftly packing the gunpowder, inserting the bullet, and cocking the flintlock mechanism, then handed the weapon to the baron.

"I'll give you a chance to demonstrate. If you mess around, I'll kill you. If you do not satisfy me, pay up and get lost!" the baron said, taking the pistol and pointing it at Tang Mo, clearly in a good mood, which suggested he often played this game.

"This is my latest designed Tang's K1-type Quick Gun!" Tang Mo quickly opened the box that the servant was holding, and took out the long gun he had meticulously prepared.

In Tang Mo's era, before he was transported to this world, this weapon had a renowned name: the Dreyse Needle Gun! It was the mighty weapon that made flintlock guns obsolete, defining the basic form of rifles for the next hundred years!

So, Tang Mo was very confident in this weapon. It was just that he had little faith in the numbskull of a baron before him.

But he didn't have many good alternatives. These days, the higher the status of the person you wanted to meet, the more difficult it was to get an audience, not to mention the wasted time and travel. Tang Mo really didn't have much money left for bribes or to prepare visiting gifts.

Calmly, he picked up the rifle, inserted the cartridge wrapped in paper into the chamber, turned it, and pushed the bolt forward, closing it swiftly and with practiced ease.

He then shouldered the rifle, aimed at a distant thicket, and pulled the trigger, sending a sharp report echoing through the skies above the estate. A flock of birds startled from the trees, their wings fluttering as they flew into the distance.

In the midst of the onlookers' stunned silence, Tang Mo opened the bolt again, ejecting the partially burnt paper cartridge, and blew into the barrel.

There was no helping it, smokeless gunpowder had not been invented yet, so cleaning the barrel after every shot was a cumbersome task.

However, compared to the flintlock gun, Tang Mo's needle gun already represented a significant improvement.

In almost half the time it took to prepare a flintlock gun for firing, Tang Mo had reloaded another paper cartridge, pushed the bolt in place once more, and was ready to shoot again.

"Bang!" Another shot rang out into the open sky. Tang Mo waved his hand, dispersing the residual gunpowder smoke hovering around them for Baron Stela, and waited quietly for him to speak.

"The box is nice." Baron Stela lowered the pistol that had been pointed at Tang Mo and fired it into the sky, discharging a third shot.

As the sound of the gun dissipated and the barking dogs echoed around them, the baron handed his firearm to his guard and casually said to the servant carrying the wooden box, "When you leave, just give him the gold coin."

"My lord!" Tang Mo, not ready to give up, tried to speak again, but Baron Stela silenced him with a gesture.

The baron walked over to the box containing the needle gun, examined it thoroughly, and then continued, "The bullet I just fired won't be charged to you separately. This box is nice, it'll be perfect for holding my fishing gear."

"It's getting late; I must attend Viscount Hel's dinner." Looking back, he dismissed Tang Mo, "You may leave now."

That marked the end of the audience. The servant handed the box to another guard, then walked over to Tang Mo, gesturing for him to leave.

Tang Mo forced a smile, bowed slightly, and with his new-style Quick Gun in his arms, he took two steps backward, following the servant towards the estate's main gate.

He knew he had failed this time. Who could have imagined... that he would actually encounter a fool with poor judgement?