Hearing Morin’s candid offer to poach her, Patricia couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Her erald green eyes looked Morin up and down, as if she were seeing him anew.
“Oh?”
She drew out the word, the corners of her mouth curling slightly.
“Is Lieutenant Morin planning to strike out on his own and challenge the Arcane Research Institute?”
“It’s not that dramatic.”
Morin waved his hand. He wasn’t that ambitious.
“I just feel that your talent should not be buried in such a stagnant place.”
“Besides, I genuinely need a genius like you to help realize so… well, so rather insane ideas.”
Patricia did not imdiately reply. She elegantly sat back down in her chair, picked up the red tea, and took a delicate sip.
Her unhurried posture made her appear as a noblewoman in control of the situation, rather than a re researcher being poached.
“That depends on whether the place Lieutenant Morin speaks of is worth my ti.”
She put down the teacup, her voice carrying a trace of aristocratic reserve and pride.
“While there are indeed so issues with suppression and exclusion here at the Arcane Research Institute, it is undeniably true that the academic atmosphere and research environnt here are top-tier in the entire Empire.”
“I have access to the most cutting-edge theories and the most precise experintal equipnt, and I can consult with a group of… albeit stubborn, veteran scholars who are authorities in their respective fields.”
Her unspoken aning was clear.
You want to poach ?
Fine.
But you must demonstrate sufficient sincerity and capital. You need to show that your place is better than the Institute.
Morin understood her point. He nodded, choosing not to press the issue further.
He knew that wooing this genius young woman out of the Institute would take more than just a few words.
“I understand your reservations.”
Morin also adopted a relaxed expression, as if discussing an ordinary matter.
“We can talk about changing jobs later, but… I do have a few technical problems that I’d like to ask you, the genius, for help with.”
“And of course, it will be compensated.”
Morin specifically emphasized the last three words.
With Patricia, he wanted to establish an equal, mutually respectful working relationship.
“Oh? Do tell.”
Patricia’s interest was piqued.
For a technical genius like her, the lure of money was far less compelling than a novel, challenging technical problem.
“The first is the solution we discussed at the ball—the plan for miniaturizing the Magic Crystal Cannon.”
Morin said earnestly.
“I need a form of suppression fire that is powerful enough to be carried by an individual or a small team. I believe the Magic Crystal Cannon’s technological path has great potential.”
Patricia nodded, silently gesturing for him to continue.
“The second, and more important one.”
Morin’s expression turned serious.
“I need a reliable, long-distance wireless communication technology suitable for use in field combat.”
In the fighting in the Kingdom of Aragon, he had deeply experienced the imnse trouble caused by poor communication.
Especially in the fast-paced nature of an assault operation, the inability to transmit orders and intelligence quickly often resulted in devastating consequences.
Communication technology in this world was still very primitive, with field units mainly relying on traditional thods like ssengers, flag signals, and flares.
Although wired telephones existed, the lines were too easily destroyed by artillery fire in intense combat.
And radio equipnt was only issued to units above brigade level and was imnsely bulky…
Therefore, he desperately needed a technology that would allow him to communicate with every company in real-ti directly from the battalion command post.
Hearing Morin’s request, Patricia’s eyes lit up.
“Long-distance wireless communication? Interesting. That idea is very challenging.”
Seeing her reaction, Morin imdiately felt confident about the prospect.
It seems this is feasible.
“Well? Do you have any ideas?”
“Of course.”
Patricia’s face radiated a strong sense of confidence.
“I was actually just researching the feasibility of arcane wireless communication devices.”
As she spoke, she took a notebook from her drawer and flipped to a page covered with complex runes and circuit diagrams.
“I discovered that by making mana-filled arcane materials vibrate at a specific frequency, the mana they contain can radiate outward, forming a kind of phenonon I call a ‘magical ripple.’”
“This ‘ripple’ can carry information and propagate at a very high speed.”
“If a receiver is set up at the receiving end, tuned to resonate with that specific frequency, wireless information transmission can theoretically be achieved.”
Morin listened, stunned.
High-frequency vibration, specific frequency, magical ripple, resonance…
Isn’t that almost identical to the principle of radio?
If it could truly be miniaturized using arcane technology…
Morin’s gaze toward Patricia intensified.
He felt like a start-up CEO who had finally found the coveted technical co-founder.
“However…”
Patricia’s tone shifted, pouring cold water on his excitent.
“Theory is theory. To turn it into reality, many technical hurdles still need to be overco.”
“For example, how do we ensure signal stability and anti-jamming capability? How can we achieve effective long-distance transmission? How do we miniaturize the device for single-soldier carry?”
“All of this requires extensive experintation and data support.”
“No problem!”
Morin confidently waved his hand.
“I will handle the issues of experintal equipnt and funding!”
“As for the technological blockade…”
He looked at Patricia, a knowing smile on his face.
“I will leverage a force that even the Arcane Research Institute cannot refuse.”
Patricia was brilliant and imdiately understood his aning.
The Crown Prince.
Only the Empire’s heir could force the stubborn Mage community to greenlight military projects.
She looked at Morin’s confident deanor and felt a strange sensation.
The man before her truly seed completely different from the playboy who once only chased after pleasure.
He had goals, ambition, ideas, and even… a compelling charisma that made him a natural leader.
“Alright.”
Patricia closed her notebook, giving her consent to Morin’s request.
“I will find ti to conceptualize the miniaturization of the Magic Crystal Cannon and the wireless communication device for you.”
“But let be clear first: I will only be responsible for providing the theoretical solutions and technical guidance. I don’t have ti to participate in the actual research and manufacturing…”
“No problem!”
Morin readily agreed.
As long as he had the blueprints and the theory, he had ways to solve the rest.
The two continued to discuss technical details for a while longer. Morin felt his mind had been opened, and the conversation was very fruitful.
Seeing that it was getting late, he didn’t linger. After borrowing a few basic arcane theory tos from Patricia, he rose to leave.
“It was a pleasure working with you, Miss von Seeckt.”
“It was a pleasure working with you, Captain Morin.”
The two shook hands, establishing a completely new partnership.
On the way back to the manor from the Institute, Morin’s mind was racing.
He felt the path of his future involvent in Army technology had suddenly beco crystal clear.
One leg was Helga, representing traditional industrial weapons manufacturing.
The other leg was Patricia, representing ‘black technology’ based on arcane principles.
He needed to walk on both legs to walk steadily and quickly!
The mont he returned to the manor, the butler greeted him with a respectful urgency.
“Young Master Morin, the War Office called again.”
“They request that you report back tomorrow morning without fail.”
The War Office called again?
Morin muttered inwardly. He guessed it was likely just so trivial matters regarding the formation of the Assault Teaching Battalion, and most likely the formal establishnt.
He had already roughly organized the training content for the Assault Battalion.
And his mind was currently full of the ‘magical ripples’ Patricia had ntioned and the blueprints Helga was drawing.
He first went back to his room to put down the arcane tos he had borrowed from Patricia, then impatiently walked toward Helga’s studio.
He pushed open the door and saw the unreasonably well-proportioned young woman hunched over a huge drafting table, concentrating fully on drawing complex lines on the drafting paper with a pencil and T-square.
Her focused deanor radiated a unique charm that made Morin almost reluctant to disturb her.
Hearing the door open, Helga looked up. Seeing Morin, the tension on her face imdiately softened into a gentle smile.
“Boss, you’re back.”
“Hmm, how is the progress?”
Morin walked up to her and looked down at the blueprint that was already taking shape.
Helga’s progress was much faster than he had anticipated.
In just two days, the overall engineering blueprint for the air-cooled light machine gun was essentially finalized.
The exact dinsions, shapes, tolerances, and assembly relationships of every single part were clearly annotated on the blueprint.
“The blueprint section is mostly complete.”
The young woman’s face held a mix of pride and excitent.
“This afternoon, I’m going to start fabricating the parts, and I’ll finalize the design as I go along.”
“That quickly?”
Morin was surprised.
“Are the tools and facilities for manufacturing the parts ready?”
“Yes!”
Helga nodded vigorously.
“Madam Falkenstein, she is truly amazing!”
The young woman’s eyes shone with adoration.
“I only ntioned what I needed yesterday, and this morning, Madam Cecilia had people secure a site for outside Dresden and transferred a complete set of lathes, milling machines, drills, and grinding machines directly from the Falkenstein Industries factory.”
Morin listened, utterly dumbfounded.
Good heavens, is this the power of a rich woman’s capital and execution?
“By the way, Boss.”
Helga seed to rember sothing and looked at Morin curiously.
“You’ve never built a gun before. Do you know how the first prototype is actually made before the formal production line is established?”
This question genuinely stumped Morin.
Although he was a military academy student before his transmigration, he studied command, not weapon manufacturing.
His knowledge of the firearms production process was limited to concepts from books and docuntaries.
“Well… I’m really not sure. Isn’t it just about using the machine tools to mill the parts one by one according to the blueprint, and then assembling them?”
Morin asked uncertainly.
Helga couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at his answer.
She rarely smiled so genuinely. Her clear laughter made Morin chuckle stupidly in response.
“Boss, you are thinking too simply~”
Helga explained while laughing.
“Theoretically that’s correct, but the actual operation is much more complicated.”
“Think about it: we only have the blueprints now. We don’t have any physical reference objects, nor any dedicated tools or molds.”
“This ans I have to rely entirely on my own skills and experience to manually fabricate every single part of the prototype gun, one by one, according to the blueprints.”
“Manually fabricate?”
Morin’s eyes widened.
“Yes, purely by hand.”
Helga’s expression beca serious and focused.
“During mass production, every machining step uses dedicated jigs and fixtures to secure the parts and ensure speed and consistency. Workers just follow the process.”
“But for making a prototype gun, without those dedicated fixtures, every part has to be manually positioned and clamped on the machine tool… This requires extrely high skill and experience from the artisan.”
“Furthermore, a part is only a rough blank after being machined off the machine tool.”
She picked up a recently drawn parts diagram on the desk, pointing to the tolerance markings.
“Do you see these tolerance requirents? This level of precision is difficult to achieve all at once just with a machine tool. Therefore, after each part is machined, it requires extensive manual filing, sanding, and fitting.”
“I need to file away the excess material to ensure that the dinsion of every part is exactly as specified in the blueprint.”
“Then, I assemble these parts one by one, checking the clearances between them, looking for areas that are too tight or too loose.”
“If a problem is found, I have to disassemble it and continue filing and sanding until all parts can be assembled perfectly and function smoothly.”
“This process is the ultimate test of a firearms designer’s comprehensive ability. You have to not only understand the design but also the manufacturing process.”
Helga’s voice was full of confidence and pride.
“The entire process, if everything goes smoothly, will take at least a week.”
A week…
Morin calculated inwardly.
He would be reporting to the War College in four days, so he would definitely miss the test firing of the first prototype gun.
A strong sense of regret instantly welled up in his heart.
It was like a farr who had worked tirelessly but missed the mont the first ear of wheat ripened.
“What a pity…”
Morin couldn’t help but sigh.
(End of this Chapter)
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