Chapter 9: It's too late.

"Based on my estimation, if nothing goes wrong, war is likely to break out within half a year," Count Fisheo said to Tang Mo with a worried expression, "Unfortunately, Shireck might side with Suthers this time."

"Why?" Wes furrowed his brows and interjected.

"If Suthers captures Northern Ridge, then the coal and iron there can be supplied to Shireck's factories at a low cost," the Earl explained, then pushed open the door to the makeshift dining hall and led several people inside.

Sure enough, a table of food was prepared—trays, not overly exquisite, were filled with game from Northern Ridge. Rabbit and deer meats were placed in conspicuous positions.

"Come, let's sit," the Earl took off his cloak, folded it, and casually hung it over the back of his chair.

It was then that Tang Mo noticed that on the other side of the longsword hanging at the Earl's waist was a beautifully crafted flintlock gun, obviously fine-tuned with care.

It was a familiar style, a Shireck flintlock gun whose elaborate exterior could not conceal its essence.

"I think you must have come here with Wes because you've heard about my situation," Fisheo began to eat, cutting a piece of meat and putting it into his mouth, talking while he chewed.

"I heard there were people here in need of weapons, so I came," Tang Mo said straightforwardly, picking up his utensils and addressing the man across from him who hardly resembled an Earl, "Your lordship's reputation precedes you."

"Anyone can flatter, I don't need you for that. You know what I want, so let's cut the small talk. I want to see a weapons firing test right away. Can you arrange it?" Count Fisheo, more eager than the arms-dealing Tang Mo, pressed for action.

One could imagine just how ominous the war clouds looming over the border had become to make a lord with lands on the frontier so desperately seek any chance for victory.

"Of course, the goods are in the carriage!" Tang Mo wasn't going to deprive himself of a good meal; since the other party was eager to see the merchandise, the deal was as good as halfway done.

Confident in his new model breech-loading rifle, he was certain that anyone in genuine need of weapons would make the right choice upon seeing this new firearm.

Lord Earl's urgency to see the new firearms matched Tang Mo's own to sell his product, thus breakfast was, naturally, a brief affair.

"Tagg, all of you, come over here." As they passed by the lawn, the Earl signalled to a group of officers in the distance to join them for the new weapons firing demonstration, "I've found a new arms dealer who claims his weapons can greatly enhance the fighting strength of our troops."

"My lord, we've seen at least three cheats like this," an officer, equipped with a longsword and matchlock, approached with a few others, looking at Tang Mo with a menacing gaze.

Tang Mo, for his part, didn't pay any attention to such looks. He took from Wes the specially prepared K1 Quick Gun intended for Baron Stela.

He expertly worked the bolt and took two cartridges from Wes's hand, gesturing to everyone.

He then handed one cartridge to the Earl and loaded the other into the chamber of the K1 Quick Gun.

Following Tang Mo's instructions, the Earl pulled open the bolt again, stared and gently blew out the ashes and residue inside the barrel as if he were rocking a newborn child.

After repeatedly making sure there was no significant debris left inside the barrel, he then took another bullet from Tang Mo and inserted it into the chamber.

This time, his movements were much smoother, which made him think of an exciting detail—the cost of training with this weapon would be much lower than with flintlock guns!

With this type of new rifle, even if he conscripted some farmers and gave them a bit of training, they could almost reach the standards of a regular army.

The previous fear of sending farmers into battle and needlessly increasing casualties virtually vanished with the fourth shot of the rifle.

For a moment, Lord Earl was in high spirits. He looked at Tang Mo to speak but momentarily couldn't recall the name of this new weapon. "This..."

"The K1 Quick Gun, Lord Earl," Tang Mo helpfully interjected with understanding.

"K, K1 Quick Gun... how much for one?" Lord Earl felt somewhat unaccustomed to Tang Mo's naming convention since the Shireck Flintlock Gun was clearly named after the Shireck Consortium.

"Five Gold Coins each, with a complimentary brush and ammunition bag!" Tang Mo introduced his weapon smoothly. "Bullets are three silver coins each, and we can offer a further discount for bulk orders."

"How many of these K1 Quick Guns do you have?" The price seemed reasonable, since it was a better firearm than the Shireck Flintlock Gun, so it was understandable if it was a bit more expensive. After hearing the price, Lord Earl's face showed an eager expression as he asked.

At this moment, he was determined to buy 500—no, a thousand—even if it cost him his entire fortune!

"Ten," Tang Mo regrettably provided an answer that greatly disappointed him.

Tang Mo's financial situation had been very poor before, so he didn't have the means to produce a large number of rifles in advance. He was only writing checks in the air, able to start production as soon as he got the orders. Even the capital needed for expansion had to be squeezed out of the profits from sales.

"That's too few, I need at least 600... no, 700!" Lord Earl was visibly taken aback by Tang Mo's answer before shaking his head and voicing his own expectations.

Hearing his request, Tang Mo naturally hoped to fulfill it. Making 700 rifles a year was a challenge, but also an opportunity.

If Tang Mo could achieve such production numbers, then his capacity could take over the entire Kingdom's firearm business.

By that time, he would be able to compete with the Shireck Consortium within the Leite Kingdom. It's only at that stage that he would have the basic capability to protect himself.

So Tang Mo said to the Earl, "Lord Earl, that would take a very long time, since the biggest firearm workshop in the Kingdom can only make 300 rifles a year."

"It's time we lack. How good it would've been to have met you a few years earlier." The Earl's face turned ashen, seemingly more discontent with the dangerous situation of his own territory.