The Path of Technological Development Is Long and Arduous (3)

After her meeting with Arto ended, Minister Vermouth headed back the way she had come.

Just as she had arrived, she left with the same brazen swagger—pure, unfiltered madness incarnate.

"Next time I'll teach you all about chemical gas formulations!!"

"No, please, next time let's just meet officially. Please."

Right to the end, she had been casually pitching graduate school recruitment at a man who ranked among the top five most powerful figures in the Empire, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Adios!"

"Ah—your mechanical arms are leaving octopus-shaped tracks in the grass!"

Even on the way out she wasn't walking on her own two feet; she scuttled away on those mechanical arms like some mad Doctor Octopus reborn.

Once she had returned, as naturally as breathing, to the Ministry of Technology and Science—

"…I thought I was going to die!"

—she dropped the clear-eyed lunatic mode in an instant and snapped back into the appearance of an ordinary person.

"Minister Arto is too scary! Uwaaahhh!"

No—not an ordinary person. She looked more like a terrified supporting character from a horror movie.

The mad-scientist persona she had worn only moments earlier had vanished without a trace, leaving everyone understandably bewildered…

"We told you so, didn't we? That you really shouldn't go charging in like that."

"Nngh… but still…"

Yet the actual parties involved—the graduate students—were roasting Minister Vermouth with half-dead eyes.

Granted, these were the same students she had trapped in endless master's programs without ever letting them graduate… even so, the way they spoke so freely to a woman who still held a noble title was something else.

"But Minister Arto used to be the Minister of the Executive Ministry! The guy who was always trying to devour me together with the Inspectorate whenever anything happened!"

"Are you not aware that the only reason both of those groups were after you at the same time is because you were walking a ridiculously dangerous tightrope?"

"Quiet! Go finish developing the tech already!"

"Woooow, abuse of power, woooow."

The Ministry of Technology and Science was strangely egalitarian enough that even a noble minister could be met with playful mockery.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Shut up and just get me proper weapons as fast as possible."

But unlike usual, Minister Vermouth was dead serious—cold sweat even beading on her brow.

Faced with their minister looking like that, the eternal-master's graduate students wore expressions of pure incomprehension.

"What's wrong, Minister?"

"You know how it is, Minister. We're already being wrung dry. If we push any harder here, people are actually going to start dying."

They were pointing out they had already hit their limit and couldn't accept any more unreasonable demands…

Minister Vermouth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let out a long sigh at the sight of them.

"No, look. The thing is… Minister Arto said something to me."

"What did he say?"

"He happened to have a conversation with Her Majesty the Empress recently, and according to her, there's a critical problem with the Empire's fleet power."

"Oh…"

Only then did the pitiful graduate students finally understand why their mad, slave-driving minister of pure obsession had suddenly reverted to a normal human being.

The notoriously strict and terrifying former Minister of the Executive Ministry was now cracking the whip on them in the name of the great Empress herself.

Reality hit the engineering grad-student friends like a truck. Panic set in late, and they turned worried eyes on their minister.

"Th-then what do we do?"

"For now I bought some time by showing him the weapons and blueprints I've been making as a hobby."

"You really have no fear."

"Quiet. If I hadn't produced any results there… this time he would've come after us all the way to the Imperial Palace."

"Ah."

But simply putting their heads together wasn't going to solve anything.

"Still, we've developed all sorts of things already. Does the Foreign Executive Ministry even know what we've been working on?"

"Yeah. He rattled off every single one of our latest research topics that were supposed to be classified."

"…"

"So he requested that we please start actual practical weapons development, starting now."

"Oh."

On the surface the words sounded extremely polite—almost optional.

But the moment everyone realized the speaker was that Minister Arto, they all understood it was a literal ultimatum.

And so the researchers and engineers gathered there nodded and rapidly accepted the situation.

"…Then we'll immediately halt development on all existing research topics and begin work on the new lance battery."

"Keep the engineering projects going. New fortresses may not be fleet assets, but they're still important."

"What about biology and chemistry?"

"Are we developing NBC weapons?"

"Whatever it is, bring me results worthy of showing Her Majesty—and they must be combat-related, no exceptions."

"What's the deadline?"

"As soon as possible. But perfectly."

Even if countless graduate students were ground to dust in the process, they would stake their lives on completing this task…

I hadn't been able to properly chew her out because of the pure madness radiating from those clear eyes and every movement…

But in my irritation I had accidentally let slip the conversation I'd had with Artraia.

That was dangerous. I shouldn't have revealed something like that so carelessly.

Sharing a private exchange with the sole absolute monarch of an absolute monarchy with another minister?

One wrong move and my relationship with Artraia could sour—and my head could go rolling.

Yet that accidental slip seemed to have put real pressure on Minister Vermouth instead.

There was no other explanation for receiving such a perfect event so soon after I had planted a hardline demand in the Foreign Executive Ministry and left.

Perfect timing. Unity had been lagging ever since the recent war ended.

With that thought I closed the event window and checked the message that had appeared on my terminal.

"…"

It skipped every scrap of formality and went straight to the point. I almost wondered if it was a prank…

"That's pure Minister Vermouth right there."

"So you think so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too."

Just as Riel said, anyone could see this was Minister Vermouth inviting me to the exposition.

"Alright. What's the afternoon schedule look like?"

"You have a meeting with the Minister of Defense, but if you say you're going to the exposition he'll probably be happy to tag along."

"…Hmm."

Remembering that middle-aged man's big-gun, big-ship fetish, I nodded.

"Right. Get everything ready so we can leave right after lunch."

"Got it."

And so we finally arrived at the exposition.

Or rather, at a classified weapons demonstration site prepared somewhere within the exposition grounds.

Inside a special bunker wrapped in ultra-heavy armor that looked like it belonged on a fortress, we got to experience the power of the various new weapons the Ministry of Technology and Science proudly unveiled.

"Well?! What do you think of the new weapons our Ministry of Technology and Science poured our hearts into?!"

"…Impressive."

"Remarkable firepower. Even better than the simulations."

Of course, the only things they actually fired in front of us were personal weapons and tank-class systems.

Ship-mounted weapons were brought in as physical models only; the actual firing footage was something we watched on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠screens from space tests.

As expected, "where there's a will, there's a way" is the absolute truth.

Were these really the same researchers who until recently had been developing nothing but bizarre, useless junk?

My chest swelled with genuine awe. I was about to tell Minister Vermouth—white lab coat fluttering, hands on her hips—that it exceeded expectations…

"Hold on. So how long until those weapons can actually be deployed in the field?"

Something about the Minister of Defense's tone made me freeze mid-motion and settle naturally into a more formal posture.

Minister Vermouth answered the question with her usual exaggerated flair, waving her mechanical arms for emphasis.

"If necessary, full combat deployment is possible at any time! The designs are perfect, after all!"

"Oh… is that so?"

But the Minister of Defense simply flipped through the documents on the terminal in front of him and continued.

"According to this report, though, the weapons and new ships require resources called 'Geronimo Ore' and 'Pheir Crystal.'"

"That's correct, but?"

"It also says they need dark matter… Does our Empire even have sites that produce those strategic resources?"

"We don't, do we?"

"Any places we can import them from?"

"We… don't, do we?"

"Then how exactly are you planning to deploy these in actual combat?"

"Well, that's a problem for the ministers in charge of diplomacy and commerce to solve, isn't it?"

"??"

Did they break her brain from overworking her?

Listening to that surreal exchange, I felt my own thoughts scatter.

I told her to make proper weapons, not one-off technology demonstrators that can never be mass-produced.

We were already short on resources produced inside the Empire, and here she was proudly unveiling weapons that used materials rare across the entire galaxy.

Naturally, a man whose entire identity revolved around mass-producing big ships with big guns was never going to accept something this absurd.

To the unfortunate engineers who had worked so hard, the blueprints for those new weapons were promptly stuffed into the Imperial Palace's "weapons storage"—which was really just a warehouse.