Smokeless Powder

Although Vivian had been living and eating with Altair during this time, Hahn, the butler, still held a strong grudge against her, believing it was Vivian's fault for leading their own count astray.

During this period, he hadn't stopped trying to persuade Altair to send Vivian away, but was refused on various grounds.

Hahn had just finished reporting the half-month's asset income and expenses today. As he opened the study door and prepared to leave, he saw the person he least wanted to see in this manor: Vivian Laurent.

Seeing her greet him, he gritted his teeth out of politeness despite his displeasure and said, "Good morning, Miss Vivian!"

Watching Hahn Clayton walk away without any desire to chat, Vivian shook her head helplessly and turned into the study.

Approaching Altair, she said, "What's wrong with Hahn lately? I feel like his opinion of me is getting worse and worse."

Hearing Vivian's words, Altair looked up with a smile and replied, "Isn't this because someone's cries last night were too loud and got discovered?"

Vivian's face flushed slightly at this. "You know very well why that is. You were like an ox yesterday, and those moves—I've never even heard of them in Intis. You even made me use 'Spider Silk.' I really don't know how you came up with them when you knew nothing before."

Seeing Vivian like this, Altair stood up, walked over to her, and comforted her, "Alright, alright. You know my public identity is still a young girl. You'll just have to bear with it for now."

Altair's words left Vivian helpless. This really was the only way, and it was a pit she had dug herself, so she had to jump into it. After a moment of tenderness, she stated her purpose: "I need to leave Bexland for a while. The cult has assigned me a task to handle some matters."

Altair was surprised to hear this. "Aren't you one of the Witch Cult's leaders in Bexland? Why would you suddenly get a mission to leave?"

Vivian's face showed a look of difficulty. "I can't tell you about this. It involves too much, and I'm afraid you'll get caught up in it."

"Besides, your body should rest for a while too."

Vivian leaned in and whispered in Altair's ear, "I can feel it. Your body has clearly been worse these past two days."

Feeling the warmth and words at his ear, Altair turned his head, rubbed his nose awkwardly, and said, "Will you be in danger on this trip? I know you can't refuse, but when you're out on business, safety comes first..."

Hearing her young man's concern, Vivian spoke slowly, "Don't worry. It's just a normal item handover mission. I'll come back as soon as I get the item. Nothing will go wrong."

"And now that you've learned some extraordinary knowledge, if you miss me these two days, you can contact me through the 'Magic Mirror.'"

After a night of "madness," Vivian was sent off by Altair onto the carriage the next morning. Standing at the villa entrance, Altair watched Vivian's carriage leave, then turned and entered the villa to handle the estate's paperwork.

Sometimes having too much property in the family really wasn't a good thing. Although most documents didn't need Altair's personal handling, major matters required his signature.

And these nobles really had nothing better to do! There were several banquet invitations every single day.

If he could write back freely, he'd let them experience the greetings of people from the information age—cursing their whole families to the heavens. How annoying were these daily invitations? If you're not annoyed, I am! What's with this baron? This is already the eleventh time I've seen his name in the past half-month!

Tap tap tap

Hearing the sound at the door, Altair didn't look up and said, "Enter."

When he saw Hahn walking in, the man was already carrying a large box.

Seeing the box, Altair knew what it was. He put down his pen, stood up, and said, "Just put it on the table."

Hahn slowly placed the box on the table, opened it, and said, "Count Altair, this firearm is definitely a milestone of the past century. It completely overturns modern people's definition of guns, combining the power of a High Pressure Steam Rifle with the firepower of a machine gun."

Altair looked at the items in the box and said, "Actually, this gun isn't as good as you say. Compared to existing firearms, it only has an advantage in gunpowder technology."

Through his recent practice with firearms, Altair had come to understand why special guns like the "High Pressure Steam Rifle" existed in the current era.

It was because the era's gunpowder manufacturing technology hadn't fully entered the smokeless powder stage, leaving black powder to limit power—let alone the high-energy composite powders that came later.

This had disrupted Altair's original plan. He had thought he could just sell some "advanced weapons" later on.

But he never expected that even a hundred and fifty years after Rochelle's death, black powder still hadn't been fully replaced.

After understanding this, Altair used his acquired abilities to have Hahn find materials and make a new type of "gunpowder" himself.

Getting the materials cost him nothing—he could just take them from his own factory.

During this time, he spent half the day in class and half researching gunpowder. Of course, accidents were common. The garden area outside the lab window had been completely obliterated by Altair.

For the first prototype firearms, Altair drew designs based on the "Winchester M1895" and "Marlin M1895" lever rifles, had the factory make two of each, and tested them. Hahn had spent plenty of time supervising in the industrial zone during this period.

The ammunition used his provided "New Gunpowder."

As for why he didn't produce better firearms, there was no need now. These two prototypes were for his own play, not for military bidding.

With current technology, it was easy to make "bolt action rifles" with simple parts.

Of course, even a "bolt action rifle" was better than a "lever rifle." So why not produce the former, choosing the lesser of two evils instead?

Altair's answer to that question was, "Because it's cool." He wasn't going to the battlefield anyway.

Altair took the two guns out of the box, weighed them in his hands, and found the weight acceptable.

Both guns were made entirely of blued steel with walnut wood stocks, and the exteriors were engraved with intricate patterns. The more Altair looked at them, the more he liked them.

Considering safety, Altair asked curiously, "Hahn, have these guns been tested?"

Seeing Altair's actions, Hahn smiled and said, "Both guns have been tested. The bullets were made with the gunpowder you provided. The Winchester M1895, using 7.62×54 spitzer bullets, can reach 800 meters with stability. The Marlin M1895, tested with .45-70, can reach about 200 meters."

"The factory's suggestion is to abandon the round nose bullet version and go straight to large-scale production of the spitzer bullet version. The first month might only yield a thousand units, but after scaling up, production can triple."

Seeing Hahn's excitement, Altair poured cold water on him. "There's no need for large-scale production of these guns. This kind of firearm is only good for hunting right now. On a real battlefield, all sorts of problems would arise."

Lever rifles have major flaws: high manufacturing costs, many parts, difficult maintenance, and ammunition can't all use spitzer bullets...

They were made for my own fun. If they're going to the battlefield, let them stick with bolt actions.