Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Demonstration
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"Baron! What in the world have you been up to behind my back?!"
"Chief of General Staff?"
Chief of General Staff Schlieffen had come straight out and asked that.
Why had this man suddenly shown up and started talking nonsense out of the blue?
"I haven't done anything."
"Don't try to hide it, Baron. I already know everything."
Hide what? I truly had no clue what he was referring to.
Lately, I'd been living quietly without any particular incidents.
"From the look on your face, it seems you really have no idea what happened."
"Pardon?"
"The new weapon. The new weapon. That thing you're making at the Bergman Arsenal!"
"Ah, that?"
Chief of General Staff Schlieffen had found out.
I'd planned to surprise him later, but somehow the wind had gone out of my sails.
"But how did you know about it?"
"That's not important. Right now, because of that, you're in serious trouble, Baron!"
"?"
Trouble?
Because of the submachine gun?
'What the hell is this? Some ghost story where the laundry gets eaten up?'
"It's not illegal, and I'm making it with my own money. What's the problem?"
"Normally, there wouldn't be one. But Field Marshal Waldersee is trying to use this against you."
To take you down, Baron.
Chief of General Staff Schlieffen added gravely with a serious face.
Field Marshal Waldersee trying to take me down with the submachine gun? What was this about?
I needed to hear the details.
"The Field Marshal is planning a demonstration."
"A demonstration? You mean the army wants to test the firearm I'm developing with the Bergman Arsenal?"
"Exactly. In front of His Majesty the Kaiser and everyone else."
"A public demonstration. It seems he plans to embarrass me."
"To be precise, he wants to prove your incompetence and drive a wedge between you and His Majesty."
It seemed Waldersee thought my submachine gun development was child's play.
He didn't know me well.
And the other generals, except for Schlieffen, probably felt the same.
'They shouldn't underestimate me like this.'
"Let him do as he pleases. I have full confidence in my 'submachine gun'."
"Submachine gun? Is that the name of the weapon you're making?"
"Yes. It's a revolutionary personal firearm unlike any before."
"You sound so certain. Tell me more."
I briefly explained to Schlieffen the reasons and features of developing the submachine gun.
And as I spoke, his expression shifted from curiosity to interest, then to seriousness.
"A fully automatic weapon using pistol rounds. That's a groundbreaking idea. You said prototypes are already done?"
"Of course. The appearance is a bit rough, but the performance is outstanding. Right now, gunsmith Mr. Schmeisser at the Bergman Arsenal is refining it with his sons."
"Have you tested it?"
"Would you believe me if I said it turned a target 100 meters away into Swiss cheese in just over ten seconds?"
"Ho ho, that's..."
What a tantalizing weapon.
Schlieffen's eyes gleamed with greed.
"I'm disappointed, Baron. Keeping something like this from me."
"Heh heh, Christmas presents aren't fun if you open them early, right?"
Though Christmas was still twenty days away.
"When Field Marshal Waldersee sees the submachine gun, he'll realize his mistake."
"That'll be something to look forward to."
"Oh, by the way, when is the demonstration?"
"In a week. Can you prepare by then?"
"Yes. But we need to tighten security at the arsenal in the meantime. Just in case."
I doubted he'd stoop to petty tricks, but he might send someone to sabotage the prototype.
Better to take basic precautions.
"I'll contact the Imperial Ministry of the Interior and request secret police be dispatched to the Bergman Arsenal."
"Couldn't Field Marshal Waldersee influence the Ministry of the Interior too?"
"No need to worry about that. Vice-Chancellor Arthur von Posadowsky-Wehner, who also serves as Interior Minister, has a very poor relationship with Field Marshal Waldersee."
Schlieffen added in a low voice.
The Vice-Chancellor is quite conciliatory toward workers.
"So, no need to worry?"
"Of course."
I replied with a confident smile.
And a week passed.
The long-awaited day of the demonstration arrived.
At the army parade ground where the event was held, I was making final preparations with Mr. Schmeisser and his son, our faces tense.
"Phew... I never imagined we'd be demonstrating my gun not just to the army brass, but in front of His Majesty the Kaiser and the imperial family."
"I'm sorry to drag you into this mess, Mr. Schmeisser."
"Not at all, Baron. It's not fully polished yet, but I stake my gunsmith's honor on its performance."
"However..."
His son, Hugo Schmeisser, sighed as he looked at the submachine gun brought from the arsenal.
The submachine gun still looked close to raw steel tubing.
A month wasn't enough time for noticeable refinements.
"If only I'd had more time and budget."
"I gave you plenty of budget, didn't I?"
"That's just talk, Baron."
"Anyway, looks don't matter for guns. Performance does."
Chief of General Staff Schlieffen had rubbed his eyes and eyed me suspiciously when he inspected it beforehand, but it was fine.
The performance was rock-solid.
"Hans, you're good to go, right?"
"Leave it to me, Baron. I've been training non-stop for a week just for today!"
Hans Schmeisser, who would demonstrate the submachine gun, and the arsenal staff with military experience gave us thumbs up.
They looked reliable.
'Everyone seems to have arrived.'
I glanced at the seating area set up for the demonstration.
Kaiser Wilhelm II, Empress Augusta, Crown Prince Wilhelm, and the imperial family.
Chief of General Staff Schlieffen, Field Marshal Waldersee, and other military officials.
And men in suits, likely bureaucrats and defense contractors.
'Mr. Bergman is there among them.'
He was sweating profusely, clearly nervous.
If things went wrong, the Bergman Arsenal's reputation would plummet.
'But no need to worry.'
All preparations were complete.
"Why drag us out in this cold to watch something like this?"
Crown Prince Wilhelm, enjoying university life, scowled irritably at Field Marshal Waldersee, the culprit who brought him here.
To the Crown Prince, Waldersee was just a nagging old fogey, nothing more.
Honestly, if his father hadn't insisted, he'd have ignored it as too busy.
'And of all things, a demonstration of Hans's weapon.'
Waldersee wouldn't hold such a grand public event for Hans's sake.
There had to be some scheme.
'It'll be fine. Hans looked confident.'
When he made that face, he had a plan.
Time to trust Hans.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for waiting."
As the demonstration began, Hans stepped forward and bowed politely.
He wore a child-sized tuxedo from somewhere, drawing coos of "like a little penguin, so cute" from some noblewomen.
'I'll tease him later.'
A sly smile crept onto Crown Prince Wilhelm's lips.
Meanwhile, Hans finished his greeting.
"We will now begin the demonstration of the 'submachine gun', developed in collaboration between Baron Hans von Choi and the Bergman Arsenal."
Clap clap clap!
Applause broke out here and there as Hans finished.
But the military side remained silent, stoic.
They clearly disliked Hans.
"First, allow me to explain the background behind developing the submachine gun."
But Hans wasn't one to be intimidated.
The Hans the Crown Prince knew became even more brazen in such situations—a cheeky kid in the worst way.
"...So, to reduce recoil, the submachine gun uses pistol rounds instead of rifle rounds."
"May I ask a question?"
As Hans continued, someone from the military raised a hand.
"Of course. Your name...?"
"Major Erich Ludendorff, staff officer of the 5th Infantry Division."
Hans's eyes widened in surprise at the introduction.
Did he know the man?
"You mentioned pistol rounds. So, what's the effective range of your submachine gun, Baron?"
"Up to 150 meters."
Murmurs rose from the military side.
Or perhaps sneers and jeers.
Ludendorff smirked faintly.
"150 meters? Ridiculous. That might work for a pistol as a sidearm, but how could it be a main personal weapon?"
"No issue there."
"Pardon?"
"Because the submachine gun is designed for close-quarters combat."
Hans continued calmly, unfazed by Ludendorff's sarcasm.
"In my view, future wars will involve more trench and urban fighting—close-range engagements. But existing rifles are long and heavy, making them inconvenient in those situations."
"So your submachine gun is different?"
"Of course. Mine is shorter and lighter than rifles. Perfect for narrow trenches. And it has overwhelming firepower from its rate of fire."
Imagine it, Hans said.
"Our soldiers charging enemy-filled trenches, spraying bullets like a sprayer. It won't take long to turn the enemy into mincemeat."
Just one minute.
"One minute is enough."
Murmurs rippled through the audience at Hans's assertion.
Ludendorff's pupils wavered.
He seemed slightly flustered by the unexpected reaction.
"Now, behold. This is the world's first submachine gun, the key to future battlefields: 'MP01'!"
"Ooh......huh?"
As Hans dramatically unveiled the veiled submachine gun, people gasped.
But the gasps turned to sighs, then heavy silence.
"That's a gun...?"
Crown Prince Wilhelm muttered in disbelief.
The 'submachine gun' Hans held confidently looked like a pipe.
Like a pipe cut and glued onto a wooden stock.
No matter how kindly the Crown Prince looked, it didn't resemble a proper gun.
'Hans, is this really okay?'
The prince began to worry.
"Pfft!"
Then.
"Puhahaha!"
Waldersee.
The Field Marshal, who had been scowling silently, burst into laughter.
"In my life in the military, I've never seen a gun that looks like such trash. Does it even fire bullets properly?"
"Field Marshal, this is just a prototype. The appearance is rough, but the performance is..."
"I don't want to hear it! How dare you mock His Majesty and the Imperial Army with that junk. You'll pay dearly!"
Hans fell silent under Waldersee's threat.
As if on cue, snickers and jeers erupted everywhere.
"I had high hopes, but this is disappointing. If the Imperial Army uses such an ugly weapon, what will become of our reputation?"
"Heh, what does a kid know about the military or weapons?"
"What a waste of time."
Waldersee smirked as the crowd mocked and criticized Hans.
"The maker was Schmeisser, right? Not worthy of being called a craftsman."
"...!"
'Gasp?!'
Crown Prince Wilhelm doubted his eyes for a moment.
Hans wasn't angry or grinning brazenly as usual.
Expressionless.
His face was chillingly devoid of emotion.
Click!
Hans leveled the submachine gun's barrel skyward, his pitch-black eyes—without a glint—fixed on Waldersee.
'Hans?!'
The prince jumped up in alarm.
But Hans pulled the trigger faster.
"Your Majesty, see! That brat is no different from his kind......"
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat───!!!
A crisp, sharp burst of gunfire tore through the sky.
Waldersee, mid-rant to the Kaiser, shut his mouth and stared at Hans in shock.
And so did everyone else, including Crown Prince Wilhelm.
"Now it's quiet."
Hans smiled as he spoke.
"Let's continue the demonstration."