I am the Crown Prince of France Chapter 141: The August 1788 Percussion Gun

Afterward, it was ti for the police academy instructors to collectively test the new percussion gun.

After trying out the new gun, everyone was thrilled. They clearly understood what improving shooting speed by three or four seconds would an.

Joseph tried firing a few shots himself, but the recoil was huge, and the gun's stock hit his shoulder painfully. Even Louis XVI could load the gun faster than him.

"Hmm, I'm the Prince, I should rely on my brain. Firing guns should be left to soone like Kesod."

Soon, Frient, the head of instruction, discovered another advantage of the percussion gun.

"I feel this gun is more powerful than the 1776 model," he said.

Joseph silently agreed. With no leaking from the priming chamber, the gunpowder's explosion power was focused more on the bullet, increasing the power.

Another instructor nodded. "I felt that too. And when firing, there's no smoke blowing in your face, so it doesn't sting your eyes."

This, of course, was another advantage of removing the priming chamber. The priming chamber was near the shooter's face, and the leaking gas would disrupt vision, sothing the percussion gun didn't have to worry about.

The group was excited, firing and discussing until they had used up all 70 or 80 percussion caps they had brought. Only then did they reluctantly stop.

As it turned out, Louis XVI's craftsmanship was excellent—each gun had fired nearly 40 shots without any issues.

Only King Louis XVI stood there looking sowhat dejected. He had co to test the gun, but ended up only firing two shots. His social anxiety prevented him from asking for the gun back from these strangers...

The empty guns were gathered by the king's attendants. Frient then looked at Joseph and asked, "Your Highness, are these new guns made by the Charleville factory? What's the na?"

Charleville was France's largest firearms production center, and previous new models were often developed there.

But Joseph bowed slightly to his father, Louis XVI, and said, "No, these guns were made by His Majesty himself."

Louis XVI smiled shyly but proudly. He wanted to add that the design was the Prince's idea, but his social anxiety made him stumble over his words.

"As for the na," Joseph thought for a mont, "I suggest we call it the August 1788 Percussion Rifle."

The crowd cheered loudly at the new na, shouting in unison, "The August 1788! The best gun in all of Europe!"

"This is a new era for firearms—the August 1788!"

"Long live His Majesty the King!"

Louis XVI's full na was Louis-Auguste, and Joseph knew well that his father's na held significant prestige. By increasing his father's renown, it raised the status of the entire royal family. Joseph, still working behind the scenes, thought it best to let his father take the credit for now.

Louis XVI was taken aback for a mont, but upon hearing the crowd's cheers and praises, he was filled with joy. He began imagining guns bearing his na sweeping across Europe and defeating enemies. Any regret over not firing more shots vanished.

Though he felt he was taking credit for sothing the Prince had done, his son's enthusiasm in giving him the naming rights made it impossible to refuse.

Later, with the crowd still cheering, Louis XVI toured the police academy's training grounds. He watched the cadets practice their drills and left feeling content.

On the carriage ride back, Louis XVI reflected on the trip. Unlike his usual grand processions, this ti there were only sincere complints and cheers, filling him with joy.

Joseph, sitting opposite him, smiled and said, "Father, I plan to build a firearms factory near Paris to produce the new percussion guns. When the ti cos, we'll need your help to guide the craftsn in the manufacturing process."

"A new firearms factory?" Louis XVI was a little surprised. "Why not produce them in Charleville?"

Joseph replied without thinking, "This gun is a key tool for controlling the military, so of course..."

Louis XVI's eyes glead with innocence, "Controlling the military? But the military is very loyal to ."

Joseph sighed inwardly, unsure how to explain things to his father. "Father, if you had real control over the military, you wouldn't have had so much trouble during the Revolution." But out loud, he said, "Of course, loyal to you, yes, exactly.

"The thing is, the process of making percussion guns is complicated. Right now, only you fully understand the entire process. We can't have you going to Charleville to teach the craftsn, so it's better to produce them near Paris.

"Also, in the future, there will be other new weapons for you to design. Having the factory next to Versailles would make things more convenient."

Louis XVI was imdiately convinced and nodded. "Building a new factory will cost quite a bit. Hmm, I can offer 500,000 livres. I wonder if that will be enough?"

Joseph was touched. "A father willing to invest in research and developnt... where else could I find such a good dad?" He quickly said, "That should be enough. If not, I can add a bit more myself. Oh, and you'll need to send people to recruit skilled craftsn from the factories in Charleville and Saint-Étienne, so we can start producing the new guns quickly."

Joseph was sure that the king's personal request, along with the appeal of living in Paris, would attract the best craftsn, enabling his factory to begin operations in no ti.

Once the percussion guns were in production, Joseph's elite guard would have the best military power in Europe!

But then he realized that a truly strong army couldn't just stay on the training ground forever. Only the smoke of the battlefield could make them grow.

North Africa ca to mind as an ideal training ground—not as strong as European armies, but not as weak as the natives in Arica.

The question was how to get involved in North Africa without provoking the British...

A few hours later, the carriage pulled into the Versailles Palace courtyard. The carriage belonged to Joseph, and he needed to drop off Louis XVI first. He also wanted to talk with Brienne about grain and North Africa.

As the father and son stepped off the carriage, Joseph noticed a figure in clerical robes waiting respectfully at the palace gates. Louis XVI frowned slightly, lowered his head, and walked quickly past, pretending not to see him.

Joseph caught a glimpse of the dejected expression on the cleric's face and quietly asked his father, "Father, does Dean Talleyrand want sothing?"

Louis XVI sighed, "It's about him becoming an archbishop."

"And?"

"He's qualified, and the Church agrees. But your mother is unhappy because he once spoke about her behind her back, so she's blocked his appointnt. Now he keeps coming to for help."

Joseph nodded inwardly. Talleyrand was certainly a talent, and this might be the perfect opportunity to recruit him.

(End of Chapter)

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