Steam Engine
"Nonsense, probably, but let's hear it out anyway."
McCallson sighed as he spoke. Brown sketched on paper with a quill, explaining as he went.
"Boil water, and you get steam, right? If we could convert that into power, maybe we could replace magic stones with it?"
"Ha... that... hmm..."
"See? Like this—the steam pushes the parts..."
Brown's explanation was crude. The drawing was simplistic too. As he listened, McCallson thought to himself.
Boil water and turn it into power? Nonsense has its limits.
Power from mere boiled water? Who would buy such drivel?
But something nagged at him enough to keep him from dismissing it outright. McCallson ran some quick mental calculations before speaking.
"Hmm..."
"...?"
"I'll need to think on it. Give me a moment..."
After that, McCallson scribbled something on paper and headed out of the lab.
Will it work?
Brown watched his colleague's retreating back and wondered.
I should have paid more attention to engineering in my past life.
He'd been obsessed with weapons back then. Sadly, his knowledge of engineering beyond that was shallow.
All he knew was that the Industrial Revolution had kicked off with steam engine advancements. So he hoped McCallson—narcissistic aristocrat soaked in noble delusions or not—would develop the steam engine and kickstart it here.
Dropping his interest in McCallson, he turned to his previous sketch.
Ah, maybe discuss it with Karen.
He stood and headed her way.
"What brings you here?"
Karen noticed him and smiled.
"I've got a new bullet concept, need some help."
"Sure... I'll help however I can!"
"Any explosives that detonate on impact?"
"Not sure if it's what you're after, but follow me."
Karen led Brown to the explosives storage.
"This one. Careful?"
"Whoa, does it blow if I mess up?"
"Could."
Brown scooped a small amount onto paper and wrapped it at her words.
Then he took it outside, set it on the ground, and smashed it with a rock.
-Boom!
Could this work as a primer?
It exploded on impact, but would it ignite gunpowder? That needed checking too.
"Can we test other powders?"
"Of course."
"Thanks always."
"Hehe, no biggie."
Brown began testing powders with Karen. Soon, he had results.
This works...!
He'd confirmed a powder for the primer. And that the primer could ignite powder inside a cartridge case.
He had the bare-minimum core materials for bullets.
"Thanks so much, Karen."
"Hehe, anytime..."
"Seriously, I owe you big. Without you, I'd be lost."
Brown spoke as he headed back to the lab.
"Hehe... thanking me..."
Karen murmured to herself, cheeks flushing.
Back at his desk, Brown eyed his sketch again. The primer powder worked fine, but mass-producing standardized metal cartridge cases was still impossible. Still, he couldn't sit idle, so he went to see the Research Director.
"What is it?"
"New weapon design."
"Hand it over."
She took the sketch and examined it silently before speaking.
"What's... this?"
"Design for bullets and a bolt-action rifle."
"Hmm..."
Brushing back her hair, she sighed.
"Explain."
"Yes. Then."
Brown pointed as he explained.
"Bolt-action firearm. Lift the rear charging handle up, then cycle it back to chamber a round. The magazine's in the stock below the handle—holds about five rounds..."
He gauged her reaction as he went on.
"...that's it."
She stayed quiet through his full explanation of the bolt-action rifle and bullets.
"...A huge leap over matchlocks, I see. I'll approve funding—can you make a prototype?"
"Yes."
Off to the forge.
He headed to the smithy where he'd first made the matchlock.
"...Time."
"Ah, so it is."
At her secretary's words, Ceria Tillun checked her hair. The tips of her brown locks were turning gold.
She sighed and asked her secretary.
"Handle it, then."
"Yes. Here goes..."
The secretary chanted beside her. The golden tips faded back to brown.
"...Thanks always."
"You're too kind."
She returned to her papers, then spoke.
"What do you think of that weapon he just pitched?"
"Far more advanced than our matchlocks. But we lack the infrastructure to produce it. Arming the empire's troops with it now would be a stretch."
The director pondered her secretary's words.
"Magitech would be tricky."
"Yes."
"If magic stones weren't limited?"
"...It'd take time, but we could supply the whole army."
"...I see."
Conversation done, the director sipped her tea quietly. She regretted the sharp drop in magic stones since the Demon King's fall.
"Ah, you."
The senior smith looked sturdy as ever.
"Yes. Long time."
"What brings you?"
"Mind looking at this?"
"Hmm..."
The smith studied the blueprint quietly.
"Complex. Doable, but time unknown. And rifling the barrel? Hmm... I'll figure something out."
"Thanks."
From his reaction, one prototype was the max.
McCallson thought.
Power from steam? What nonsense.
Brown's theory irked him. (He saw Brown as a brute who punched first and a know-it-all just for making some weapons.) The idea of replacing magic stones with mere steam was laughable—and Brown blathering it was pathetic.
But more troubling still...
Why does it sound plausible?
Brown's explanation was simplistic. No equations, no evidence.
Just a hunch: use this, get that. So why was it convincing? Why had he mulled it over?
Something felt off. Too foolish to ignore outright—his instincts screamed to test it.
It bruised his pride to waver on mere speculation. But his engineering curiosity roared too loud to silence.
So McCallson devised a proof. Simple enough—his mind spun fast on engineering. He based it on magitech principles he'd studied.
Then gathered materials.
Test it himself. Prove Brown wrong. Mock him to his face.
But if Brown's right?
He shook off the complicating thought and assembled the parts.
Assembled.
Fire under the water bucket. Now wait. Until it boils. Steam emerges. Parts move.
Then mock Brown. Your idea's bunk. Proven simply.
McCallson waited quietly. For the boil.
Long after, bubbling rose from the bucket. Steam soon vented out.
He watched the parts, holding his breath. 10 seconds... 1 minute... 5 minutes... Nothing. Bubbling, steam leaking. But parts still.
"Haha."
Brown wrong, proven. Show him this. Laugh heartily. "You're wrong, Brown!"
McCallson slammed the desk. "Your stupid idea..."
The parts jolted slightly from the impact.
He couldn't finish. The parts began turning. Hiss-hiss, hiss-hiss.
Regularly. Venting steam.
"Ha..."
McCallson just stared silently at the whirring parts.