Chapter 456: The Feeling of Being Valued
Charles waited for Dominique to ask his questions, but Dominique hesitated, occasionally fiddling with the shotgun or glancing at Charles, looking as though he wanted to speak but couldn't quite bring himself to ask.
"Come on, Dominique," Charles said with a bitter smile as he held up his coffee, "Right now, you're like a different person compared to when you're holding a gun."
"That's... that's different, General," Dominique replied, a bit embarrassed. "I only feel confident when I'm holding a gun."
"Well, you're holding a gun now," Charles pointed out, raising his coffee cup to indicate the shotgun Dominique was holding. "And it's a powerful one at that."
"I... I mean when I'm shooting targets," Dominique scratched his head, looking sheepish. "Or when I'm designing weapons."
"Why is that?" Charles asked, curious.
Dominique shook his head slightly, his gaze drifting to the shotgun as though deep in thought. "I don't know. Maybe because, besides guns, there's nothing else I'm particularly good at or enjoy. So, I've always been isolated from others..."
"That's already enough," Charles said reassuringly. "We're in a time of war, and you've designed such an excellent submachine gun. I'm impressed."
"Really?" Dominique chuckled nervously, clearly flattered but still unsure of himself.
"Of course," Charles replied. "I hear FN has a Browning, right?"
Dominique nodded vigorously. "Yes, General. Of course, everyone in the arms industry knows him. He's a genius designer. Winchester clearly didn't realize that. They missed a big opportunity."
Charles understood what Dominique was getting at.
Browning had originally been with Winchester in the United States, but at the time, American capitalists lacked strategic foresight, and a contract dispute had soured the relationship between him and the company. Browning wanted to maintain industrial ownership of his designs, but Winchester wanted to buy them outright.
It was absurd to think that Browning would simply sell away all his inventions for a one-time fee when he could make far more from licensing them.
So, Browning quit, trying to move to Remington, but during that time, the owner of Remington passed away. Eventually, Browning made his way to Belgium, where he became the chief firearms designer at FN.
At the time, FN was struggling to compete with the German Mauser and was on the brink of bankruptcy, planning to switch from military arms to bicycle production. Browning's arrival was the turning point that allowed FN to rise and establish a strong foothold in the arms market.
Dominique was referring to Winchester's failure to recognize Browning's potential.
Charles nodded at Dominique, his voice serious and deliberate: "You're no worse than Browning, Dominique. I hope you'll become the Browning of Saint-Étienne."
Dominique was taken aback. "No, no, General. I... I'm nothing like him. You don't understand. Take this shotgun, for instance."
Dominique held up the shotgun. "This is Browning's design. It's great for civilian hunting, but..."
"Think about your own designs," Charles interrupted, "The Saint-Étienne 2, and this submachine gun."
"But those..." Dominique's face flushed with embarrassment. "Those are actually your designs."
"To be precise, they're my ideas, or my requirements," Charles corrected him. "You brought them to life. I'm not mistaken, am I?"
Dominique thought about it for a moment before reluctantly nodding.
If there was a problem, it was that Charles had been so detailed and clear with his ideas and requirements that Dominique felt like the design had already been largely completed in his mind. Dominique only needed to make it a reality.
Charles confidently stated, "There are many more things we need to design, and you might even surpass him. Understand?"
Charles used "we," not "I," meaning that Dominique was part of this future endeavor.
Charles didn't mind sharing some of the "industrial property" with Dominique. For example, the PPD submachine gun, Dominique had played a significant role in its creation.
This was a method of winning over his subordinates and ensuring their loyalty. It was also a strategic move to secure future cooperation with Saint-Étienne. Charles believed Dominique should be the one to inherit Saint-Étienne, not his older brother Rayom.
"Yes, General," Dominique said, understanding what Charles meant. He nodded enthusiastically, looking at Charles with gratitude.
Then, Dominique added, "Thank you, General. Not just for this."
Dominique didn't care much about "industrial property" or even Saint-Étienne. What he really needed was the feeling of being valued and respected.
Charles smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.
He placed his coffee cup on the table and gestured toward the shotgun, encouraging Dominique. "Go ahead, tell me, what do you think is wrong with this gun?"
"It's not really a problem, General," Dominique replied. "But I think it's more suited for hunting than the battlefield. Its range is too short—only about 40 meters. If the enemy has a rifle, they'll take us down before we even get close enough to pull the trigger."
"And what else?" Charles asked.
"It has too wide a spread. A lot of the shots are ineffective," Dominique explained, gesturing with his hands. "We can imagine the pellets spreading out in a cotton ball shape as they leave the barrel, and this spread gets wider as it travels. By the time it reaches 40 meters, the gaps between the pellets are large enough to fit several people."
"What I mean is, even if we aim accurately, the enemy is still within range, but we might miss or only hit one or two pellets, which won't be enough to take them down."
Charles nodded, clearly impressed by Dominique's thorough analysis of the shotgun.
The range and spread issue was always inherent in shotguns. They were only useful in specific environments, like trenches or close-quarter battles.
But what about other situations?
If a soldier is in an open field, does that mean they'll just have to stand there and wait to die, holding a shotgun?
"What if I told you I have a solution to these problems?" Charles said. "Or, at least, a partial solution."
Dominique chuckled.
"That's impossible, General."
"If these problems could be solved, it wouldn't be a shotgun anymore," Charles said seriously.
Dominique was stunned, unsure if Charles was joking or not. "You... you really have a solution?"
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