Kunlun Immortals Worry About Celestial Changes, Dispatching Disciples to Curb the Worldly Hero

The lights in the Mohist Pavilion's precision stamping workshop did not go out on the night they returned from the wilderness test range.

Qin Guli labored for a long time, racking his brains before finally sketching out a rough blueprint for a rifle cartridge.

"We need to shrink this thing down to rifle caliber, as thick as a finger. Only then can we distribute it among the ordinary soldiers of the entire army as my lord said. It will not only be flexible, but allow for quick reloading and accurate shooting."

Xiangli Qin leaned closer, his brow tightly furrowed. "As thick as a finger? Then how thick do the walls need to be?

When it was as wide as a bowl's mouth, the soft copper walls were as thick as a fingernail, leaving some room for expansion under heat.

If we shrink it to finger thickness and keep the wall thickness proportional, I'm afraid it won't expand enough to seal the gas.

But if it's too thin, the slightest deviation during stamping will make it crack when the chamber pressure hits."

"Three millimeters."

Qin Guli tapped the paper with his finger. "Not a fraction more.

Any thicker and it won't expand. A gap will remain between the barrel and cartridge casing, letting all the gas leak out. The bullet will drift out weakly, worse than an arrow."

"Three millimeters..."

Rong Jian's gray-white brows knotted together. "With our cultivation, we can barely manage that by hand.

But if a steam engine does the stamping, a hair's breadth of error in the mold will turn it into four millimeters or two. Four millimeters will burst the barrel; two will blow through the casing."

"So we set it at exactly three millimeters first."

Qin Guli's pen traced the final outline on the paper: