Munitions Empire

Chapter 34: Can't straighten up at the waist



There was no helping it; any further conversation with these people, already mired in their fervor, would likely provoke hostilities. In the workshop now, there were far too many who thought the world of the boss, Tang Mo.

Many of the workers with children could hardly contain their adoration for Tang Mo. In this era, people's simplistic values made them devotedly loyal to a nobleman who truly had their best interests at heart.

Haven't you seen how, with his benevolent governance in Northern Ridge, Count Fisheo's reputation has soared to tremendous heights? What he's accomplished there is still less than what Tang Mo is doing here.

Tang Mo planned to implement an entire set of modern societal reforms in this place. How could these unsophisticated commoners have ever seen such exaggeratedly terrifying "welfare treatment"?

They could never guess that Tang Mo was indeed cultivating a social environment for himself; instinctively, they saw him as a "benevolent ruler" truly worthy of their loyalty!

After seeing the huge changes in their children over just a few days, not only the fathers and mothers but even the grandparents started to regard Tang Mo as the savior of this miserable world.

Yesterday, there were even workers attempting to return the wages Tang Mo had paid them, feeling they ought to contribute in any small way they could to what Tang Mo was doing.

After Tang Mo insisted on not taking the wages back, the progress of the projects in the workshop substantially sped up to the naked eye.

For Tang Mo, this was probably another unforeseen boon, akin to "Planting willow trees by chance and finding shade" that arose from establishing his school and cultivating his own talent.

Even Tang Mo himself had not expected such a windfall so soon and to such a staggering effect.

At noon, as the sand carrier—who had already been scorned by several workers—queued up for his lunch, he was once again astonished by the scene before him.

The cantina auntie, Cui Xi, whose hands always trembled rhythmically, feverishly, profoundly, and deeply—enough to shake meat right out of a spoon—today miraculously had hands steady as a rock!

The carrier blinked, hardly believing his eyes. After repeatedly verifying the reality before him, he panickedly lifted his head to meet Cui Xi's displeased gaze.

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"My goodness, Auntie Cui Xi, how come you're giving me so much today..." he began, gazing incredulously at the sticky pumpkin soup in the wooden tray that actually contained bits of minced meat.

Pointing her soup-drenched ladle at him, Auntie Cui Xi scolded ungraciously, "You idiot, work properly! Don't slouch around lazily! You're delaying our boss's project! Do you know how rare it is these days to find such a good boss? If you don't appreciate it, then scram! Don't cause trouble for others!"

"Hahaha!" A few old women from the leatherworking group behind him burst into raucous laughter, revealing their yellow teeth.

"You dog thing! If you don't work hard this afternoon, your wife will deal with you when you get back!" Since everyone here was from neighboring villages and knew each other quite well, Auntie Cui Xi didn't hold back in her remarks.

The sand carrier quickly nodded and bowed, "I would never, I would never! I'll definitely give it my all this afternoon! I've got plenty of strength! Just watch me! I won't delay the boss's schedule, rest assured, rest assured!"

As he walked away, he eyed the pumpkin soup with its bits of meat in the wooden tray, swallowing his saliva with mixed feelings.

If only his wife had been a bit more ambitious and given him a son or even a daughter earlier on, he too could have sent his child to that school, couldn't he?

Walking and pondering, his frustration grew—the thought hit him, maybe tonight he'd try again at home, perhaps then he might be successful? Lost in thought, he unconsciously bent his back further...

There was no choice, in such circumstances, he had to appear polite, or else everyone might witness an entirely different kind of enthusiasm from him. Perhaps by tomorrow, the whole worksite would buzz with unsavory tales about him.

"So-and-so can even get excited over a pile of sand..." The thought of such gossip was thrilling... But when applied to oneself, it didn't seem quite so amusing.

Lately, Parker had been in an increasingly good mood, as he now had 20 workers under his command, bustling around every day, which gave him a great sense of fulfillment.

He no longer had to work so hard each day; now, he just needed to sit beside the machines, watching as apprentices secured gun barrels in place before using uniform-speed drills to process them.

Because these drilling machines were extremely precise, there was a high standard of quality control. This was far superior to manual or water-wheel-driven techniques, and it opened up a whole new world for Parker.

As a worker, he fully understood the importance of mass production. By standardizing technical movements, parts could be produced quickly and well!

Traditional manual craftsmanship wasn't necessarily inferior to machines, at least not before the industrial age—ultra-precise microchips had yet to appear, and practically all parts could be manually produced.

The only difference was, manual work couldn't guarantee the quality of products, nor could it be spread on a large scale to less skilled workers.

The inability to popularize meant exorbitant prices, and exorbitant prices meant extremely long production times. Long production times meant that even if these things were manufactured, they were nothing more than toys for the nobility.

But now, the steam engine before him could truly change the current situation and make production a standardized affair!

This was absolutely epoch-making because once production could be standardized, products could be manufactured continuously. The time workers spent learning their crafts would be greatly reduced, and training a qualified worker would become relatively simple.

At this moment, he already felt the immense changes brought about by this shock—previously, his apprentices were a far cry from reaching his own level of rifle barrel drilling.

A few months ago, training a qualified, steady-handed worker for drilling rifle barrels was a very complicated and lengthy process.

But now? The apprentices that Parker brought with him, along with some from Northern Ridge, could easily learn the work of drilling rifle barrels.

All they had to do was operate the machinery—this didn't require much cleverness because their operating procedures were predetermined by the machines, and they just had to follow the steps.

They had no room for personal improvisation, for the angle of the machines was fixed, and the rifle barrel clamps had also long been set in place, under such conditions it would take quite a skill to mess things up...

Moreover, after receiving guidance from Tang Mo, Parker also discovered a deeper benefit of machine production—the company needn't worry about workers cultivated with much effort being poached, taking their learned skills and the cost of training with them once they left.

For without this place, without Tang Mo's factory, what they knew would become worthless! They wouldn't find such machines elsewhere to use, hence they were like ivy clinging to Tang Mo's great tree, utterly incapable of independent survival.

Consequently, even the apprentices from Northern Ridge began learning to operate the machines, and Parker had no objections whatsoever.

He treated all the children equally, imparting the technology to them, enabling them to handle machine production with ease and simultaneously enhancing their own efficiency.

The noise of the machinery made the entire workshop very noisy. Many of the machines originally placed in this workshop had been moved to a temporary shed for the use of the old workers.

What remained here now were the new machine tools driven by steam engines, which were more precise and, being directly linked with the steam engines, very convenient to use.

No joking, he felt he could train hundreds of qualified workers within a month, allowing them to operate the machinery and complete the task of drilling rifle barrels.

Such speed was incomparable to that of old consortia like Shireck; the two were not even on the same starting line.

If he knew the term "dimensional strike," he would have unreservedly applied it to describe the overwhelming pressure Tang Mo's machinery was exerting on Shireck at this moment.

"Get your spirits up! Pay attention to the depth! Don't mess up the order!" he shouted loudly at the apprentices, prompting them to handle the valuable steel materials with even greater care.

"Got it!" the young apprentices immediately responded, each more attentive and serious than the last. This work was ten times simpler than what they had learned before—if they still made mistakes, they might as well not continue in this profession.

The mechanical noise echoed throughout the workshop as the steam engine tirelessly operated, driving around five machine tools constantly in motion.

Countless parts fit together perfectly, coordinating the most scientific structures and ultimately, with a constant speed drill, rotating rapidly, causing the metal friction to emit a sharp, piercing sound.

...

"March!" On the training ground, only recently leveled a few days prior, Luff was educating more than a dozen children according to Tang Mo's teaching plan.

These children were to receive not only cultural education in school but also physical training. The content of the physical education was actually the militarized drill regimen drafted by Tang Mo.

Each child, according to different ages, was divided into several squads, each undergoing strict quasi-military training daily.

The younger ones were taught drill formation by Luff, practicing every day, including basics like pairs and threes, encompassing fundamental disciplinary training.

Marching and drill walking were the most basic. Under Luff's guidance, the children had to run laps to strengthen their physique, and daily engage in climbing and wrestling competitions.

The children formed neat rows, each kick they took had to be at exactly the same height.

Accompanied by Luff's commands, they all simultaneously lifted their left foot and swung their right arm, maintaining the posture until they heard the next command.


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