Prussia, Essen.
The heart of the Krupp Factory.
Friedrich Haas stood before the enormous steam hammer in the forging workshop, feeling the rhythmic tremor of the ground beneath his feet with each heavy blow.
This was a sound he had known his entire life, a part of him.
His broad hands were covered in old scars from sparks and metal cuts.
He had just finished his day's work, overseeing the final forging process for a batch of new cannon barrels destined for The Admiralty.
He brushed the iron filings from his work clothes and walked directly towards the four-story office building in the center of the factory complex.
Alfred Krupp, the 'King of Cannons' in Essen and a giant of Prussian industry, was in his office reviewing the latest orders from the General Staff in Berlin.
"Come in."
Krupp said without looking up when he heard the knock.
Friedrich Haas entered.
Krupp put down the documents in his hand and looked up.
"Oh, Haas."
He always showed great patience with his most trusted chief engineer.
"What's wrong? Is there another problem with the alloy ratio for that batch of naval gun barrels?"
"No, sir. The gun barrels are perfect. I'm here to resign."
Krupp's eyes, always full of authority and calculation, suddenly narrowed. He even wondered if he had misheard.
"Resign? Haas, what nonsense are are you talking about? Are you drunk?"
"I'm perfectly sober, sir."
Haas met his gaze directly, without the slightest hint of backing down.
"I've worked here for twenty years. I've forged thousands of cannons for you. But what I truly want to build has never interested you."
"You mean your 'reversible rolling mill'?"
Krupp frowned, a hint of impatience in his tone.
"I've told you before, Haas. That's an impractical fantasy. What we need now are stronger cannons, not cheaper rails. Those liberal fools in parliament won't pay for such a thing."
"You won't pay, but someone else will."
"Who?"
"An American from New York. Mr. William Coleman. He represents a company called Lax Steel."
"Americans?"
Krupp's face darkened.
"Those Americans again. I heard they poached Jennings from Sheffield with triple the salary. Now they're setting their sights on you."
"Not poached, sir," Haas corrected.
"They extended an invitation. An invitation for me to go to New Jersey, to a land even more vast than Essen, to build a steel mill of the future."
"They even offered me four times my salary. And they gave me an independent R&D department, to turn what you consider a fantasy into reality."
"Traitor."
Krupp spat out the word through gritted teeth, his authoritative face flushed red with anger.
"Haas, have you forgotten who you are? You are a Prussian engineer. Your skills belong to His Majesty. And now you're going to serve those upstarts?"
"Sir, I am first and foremost an engineer."
Haas's reply was firm.
"My loyalty belongs to the furnace that can turn my blueprints into reality, not to the desk that has kept them locked in a drawer for three years."
He placed a pre-prepared letter of resignation on the table.
"I have a train tomorrow morning for Hamburg Port. Thank you for twenty years of mentorship, sir. Goodbye."
Haas turned and walked towards the door.
"Stop right there," Krupp's voice echoed behind him.
"Do you think you can just walk out that door so easily with the company's technology?"
Haas stopped, slowly turning around.
"Sir, I'm only taking what's in my mind. That was given to me by God; it belongs to no one."
Krupp sneered.
"Is that so? I'd like to see what that American who dares to poach my people looks like."
...That same evening, at the Essen Hof Hotel, the city's only somewhat respectable foreign-friendly hotel.
William Coleman was in his room, studying a recent report on the application of the Bessemer process in Sweden by the light of a kerosene lamp.
There was a violent knock on the door.
Coleman frowned, put down the report, and went to open the door.
Alfred Krupp, the Steel King of Essen, burst in, bringing with him a chill.
Behind him followed two tall bodyguards.
"You are Coleman?"
Krupp, speaking English with a heavy German accent, looked down at the slender American before him.
"I am. Are you Mr. Krupp?"
Coleman recognized the face, known to everyone in European industry.
"You have a lot of nerve, American," Krupp sneered.
"Coming to my territory to poach engineers, do you think Essen is your backyard?"
"Mr. Haas is a free engineer, Mr. Krupp."
Coleman's reply was neither humble nor arrogant.
"He has the right to choose for whom and why he works. Lax Steel can offer him what you cannot."
"What I cannot offer?"
Krupp seemed to have heard the biggest joke.
"I gave him the best factory in Prussia, and the king's orders. What can you give him? A muddy patch of land in New Jersey? And an unattainable dream?"
"I gave him a budget of one million dollars."
"And the right to build the world's first high-speed reversible rolling mill."
Krupp's laughter froze.
One million dollars.
This figure was no small sum, even for him.
"I don't care how much money you gave him."
Krupp's face darkened, and he stepped forward, poking Coleman's chest with his thick fingers.
"Cancel the invitation to Haas immediately, and then take your money and get back to New York."
"Otherwise, I guarantee that you and Lax Steel will not be able to buy even a single screw in Germany. I will have all German engineering associations blacklist you."
Coleman did not back down.
He merely looked down at the finger poking his chest.
"Mr. Krupp, I respect you because you are a great engineer. But you seem to have misunderstood something."
"Heh... What have I misunderstood?"
"You are threatening me." Coleman looked at him.
"But you seem to have forgotten that my Boss, Mr. Felix Argyle, just signed a significant cooperation agreement with His Majesty and Chancellor Bismarck."
"Militech will provide Prussia with the most advanced weapons in the world. And Militech's chief metallurgist, Mr. Griffith, will also be the technical core of Lax Steel."
"You are now threatening me, which is equivalent to threatening your own country's military future. What do you think General Moltke and Chancellor Bismarck would think if I conveyed your words today through Major Arnim-Boitzenburg's channel?"
"Would they offend a strategic partner who can bring them victory for the sake of your pathetic engineer's pride?"
Krupp's flushed face instantly changed color.
He... he had actually forgotten that aspect.
He only thought of this American coming to poach his people, but he forgot that behind him stood Felix Argyle, whom even the Chancellor and the General Staff had to treat with caution.
"You..."
His finger, pointing at Coleman, froze awkwardly in the air.
"Mr. Krupp."
Coleman helped him lower his hand.
"I didn't come to Essen to be your enemy. On the contrary, I came to seek cooperation."
"Mr. Haas's departure is not a great loss for you. But for Lax Steel, it is a beginning."
"In the future, we will need a large number of precision machine tools, blast furnace refractory bricks, steam power cores... And for these, Krupp Factory is the best supplier in all of Europe."
"My Boss prefers to establish a mutually beneficial business relationship with you, rather than arguing in a Berlin conference room over some unnecessary misunderstandings."
Krupp looked at the unyielding, logical American before him, feeling as if he had punched cotton only to hit steel.
But he knew that Haas truly could not be kept.
"Hmph," he finally snorted coldly, retracting his hand.
"I don't care what cooperation you have with Berlin, but you took my man, so you are an enemy."
"Go back and tell that Argyle that this isn't over. I will personally go to Chancellor Bismarck. I will let him know that Prussian steel will never bow to an American speculator."
Coleman watched Krupp's angry retreating back and slowly closed the door.
Berlin, Wilhelm Street.
Krupp's carriage stopped in front of the Chancellor's residence.
He had rushed from Essen overnight, heading straight here without even returning to his own mansion.
"I need to see Mr. Chancellor."
He slapped his business card, emblazoned with the Krupp family crest, onto the reception officer's desk like a piece of iron.
"Now."
"Good day, Mr. Krupp."
The reception officer clearly recognized the industrial magnate but maintained the typical stiffness of a Prussian bureaucrat.
"Mr. Chancellor is currently handling urgent state affairs, and you do not have an appointment..."
"Then arrange one. Tell Bismarck that if his urgent state affairs still include the national defense and security of the Kingdom of Prussia, he must see me immediately."
The officer hesitated.
He couldn't afford to offend the man in front of him.
"Please... wait a moment."
Krupp was led into a reception room.
He paced restlessly in the room, his leather boots making heavy sounds on the floor.
He, Alfred Krupp, the Cannon King of Prussia, a close friend of the king.
Had actually been thwarted by an American.
That American named Colman had not only poached an engineer he valued right in front of him but also dared to threaten him with a cooperation agreement with Berlin.
This was an utter humiliation.
He had to make Chancellor Bismarck understand that this kind of cooperation was like inviting a wolf into the house.
That foolish contract should be torn up immediately, and that American should be driven out of Prussia...
An hour later, he was finally led into the Chancellor's office.
Bismarck was standing in front of a giant map, a cigar clamped between his fingers, seemingly studying the border of Schleswig-Holstein.
He didn't turn around, only speaking in his deep, magnetic voice:
"Alfred, my friend. What great matter could make you want to charge into my office like an angry bull?"
"Mr. Chancellor."
Krupp suppressed his anger and got straight to the point.
"Do you know what that American named Argyle has done?"
"I only know he did one good thing."
Bismarck turned around, a subtle smile playing on his face.
"He provided us with a very interesting batch of toys, didn't he?"
"Toys?" Krupp's voice suddenly rose.
"He sent someone to poach my engineer, Haas. You call that a good thing? This is industrial espionage!"
Krupp said excitedly.
"This is an open provocation to Prussia's defense industry. You should immediately terminate all contracts with Argyle and arrest that Colman on charges of espionage."
"Oh?" Bismarck's eyebrow twitched.
"Mr. Haas... I heard he's a man with great ideas in rolling mill design. Did he leave voluntarily?"
"He was blinded by money," Krupp said dismissively.
"Those Americans have nothing but money. Mr. Chancellor, Krupp's steel is the best in the world. We don't need those flashy but impractical rifles."
Bismarck listened to him vent quietly, the smile on his face never changing.
He slowly walked to his desk and pulled a thin report from a pile of documents.
"Alfred, I understand your anger. Losing a capable assistant is indeed unpleasant."
He pushed the report to the center of the table.
"But before you talk about 'not needing,' I suggest you take a look at this. This is the test report the General Staff just sent yesterday."
Krupp picked up the report, puzzled.
He opened the first page.
"Test One: Vanguard 1863 Rifle."
"Test Environment: Moderate rain, wind speed three. Test Soldiers: Five ordinary soldiers from the Guards Infantry Regiment, received three hours of operational training."
"Result: Within five minutes, an average of seventy-five shots per person. All hit the chest target fifty yards away. No jamming, no barrel bursts.
Control group, soldiers equipped with Dreyse needle guns, under the same conditions, fired an average of twenty-four shots, with three jams."
Seventy-five shots versus twenty-four shots.
Krupp's heart sank.
He knew what that number meant.
It meant that a Prussian soldier equipped with this American rifle was equivalent to three Austrian or French soldiers on the battlefield.
He opened the second page, which was shorter, but its content made him feel like it was hard to breathe.
"Test Two: vanguard 1863 gatling gun. Test Target: Simulated Austrian infantry square's battalion-level assault formation (five hundred wooden humanoid targets, spread across three hundred yards of open ground)."
"Result: Harvest. Time taken: Two minutes and thirty seconds."
"General Moltke attached a comment at the end of the report."
Bismarck's voice rang out in the quiet office, "He said this isn't a weapon; it's an industrialized agricultural tool. And we are about to become farmers holding sickles."
Krupp slowly put down the report.
He calculated what a terrible revolution these two weapons would unleash on the upcoming battlefield.
"Now, Alfred." Bismarck looked at him. "Do you still think we don't need these toys?"
"I..."
Krupp opened his mouth but couldn't make any sound.
"Prussia needs to unify Germany."
"His Majesty the King's army will solve the Danish problem with the smallest cost, and then 'persuade' Vienna. These American weapons will save us at least twenty thousand Prussian soldiers' lives."
"So not only can we not terminate the contract, but we must also maintain the most friendly cooperative relationship with Mr. Argyle. We need more of his rifles and machine guns. Until..."
"Until we can build them ourselves," Krupp finished for him.
"Exactly so." Bismarck nodded.
"You are a clever patriot, Alfred. You should know that national interests are above all else."
"I regret Mr. Haas's departure."
Bismarck's tone softened, and he stepped forward, patting the industrial giant's shoulder.
"But Prussia's steel future doesn't lie in one engineer, nor in those small rifles."
"It's in you, Alfred." He pointed to Krupp's heart.
"In your giant cannons that can make all of Europe tremble."
"General Moltke's report also mentioned something else." A glint flashed in Bismarck's eyes.
"The Americans' rifle steel is excellent. But their cannon steel is very poor. Those cast-iron Parrott cannons are still frequently bursting on the battlefield, killing their own gunners."
"They don't understand what a cannon is."
"But you do." Bismarck looked at Krupp.
"So, Alfred, go back to Essen."
"With the best steel and wisdom."
"Forge a Thor's Hammer for His Majesty that can blast the walls of Paris into powder."
"You are His Majesty's friend, so you will certainly help him achieve his ideal, right?"
Krupp looked at Bismarck, his heart, which had been angry and resentful from the poaching, calmed down.
He, of course, knew what His Majesty's ideal was, and he also knew that he could not conflict with Argyle at the moment.
"Mr. Chancellor, I apologize for my rudeness today."
He slowly bowed, his pride returning to his face.
"His Majesty's ideal is my direction."
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