Imperial Elite

Chapter 11 Those Teutons! They're lawless!

For many, the military police's dark room was more unbearable than prison.

Even when you're in prison, you still have time to go outside.

The military police's small dark room was different. Apart from someone bringing food, no one else appeared there. Forget about going out for fresh air, even going out for water required checking if the bucket was full.

Even in an environment where mice would run away, Joe felt it wasn't unacceptable.

After all, the Teutonic artillery fire had produced a similar effect when they were in the trenches.

Compared to the feeling of countless bullets flying through the air during a Teutonic bombardment, the old barrels in the dark room seemed rather restrained.

Of course, as a military police station's dark room, biological attacks were just a side effect; what truly made the dark room unbearable was the loneliness.

A person squats in a small, dark room, only realizing a day has passed when someone brings food. During that day, there isn't even anyone to talk to.

This feeling is already a form of torture for humans, who are social animals.

But this kind of gentle torture, which is effective for others, is no problem for Joe at all.

For others, closing their eyes might mean darkness, but for Joe, closing his eyes means he can chat with his old friends and even secretly observe what they are doing.

Although he didn't see anything like the Primarch, the sight of Space Marines battling Chaos made Joe deeply resentful that there was a limit to human sleep.

If he could witness the entire battle between the loyal canned food and the bad canned food, a scene that others would never see, he would be willing to sleep for more than ten hours in a dark, cold room, let alone marry a villa, drive a celebrity, and live in a luxury car.

Since human sleep has its limits, when Joe couldn't sleep, he discovered another ingenious use for this little dark room.

This is helpful for thinking.

Since he was already living in the military police's small dark room, naturally no one or nothing would bother Joe anymore.

During this long stretch of free time, Joe either reminisced about the exciting scenes he had witnessed from his old friend or pondered something else.

Now that he's about to be stripped of his military status and discharged from the army, shouldn't he start taking good care of his business?

Although the hardware gadgets sold now are profitable, the technical threshold is too low, and the money spent on lawsuits every year is not a small amount, although it has effectively deterred some bad actors.

But when he thought about all that money he had spent, money that could have been used to marry a villa, drive a celebrity, and live in a luxury car... no, it could have been used to lead his workers to prosperity, Joe couldn't help but shed tears.

So what should I do next?

In the small, dark room of the military police headquarters, Joe began to think.

Firstly, resources were scarce during the war, so I couldn't do things that consumed too many resources. It wasn't that I didn't have the money, but that my superiors wouldn't approve it.

Secondly, the war won't last too long, so we need to develop some things that can be used for both military and civilian purposes, ideally something that can be used for military purposes in the early stages and then converted to civilian use later.

Of course, because he had submitted his invention several times in the hope of attracting the attention of his superiors and being transferred away from the front lines, Joe was now very concerned about one thing: if he hoped to make money from this invention, he would have to wait until he was completely discharged from the military before he could operate it.

And military funds must absolutely not be used.

After all, these old men above are really shameless. Although according to patent law, the inventions they create should theoretically belong to them.

However, firstly, he was an active-duty soldier when he made the invention, and secondly, he did not have the conditions to use his own workshop when he was undergoing engineering training, so he made do with the equipment and materials from the engineering training camp.

Then, when helmets and similar items actually began to be widely deployed and used, the officials in the Army Department used the argument that "according to patent law, you can indeed enjoy the ownership of the patent, but the materials and equipment you use for the invention belong to the military. Don't say things like you don't have the opportunity to use your own workshop. Since you used military equipment, the military can claim the rights to this patent. The ownership is yours, but the right to use it is mine." to freeload off Joe three times.

At that time, Joe thought that this thing was originally a military invention. Although he could make money by taking it, he had to be alive to spend the money. He said, "Quickly transfer me away from the front line. I can do anything!"
Now that the light at the end of the tunnel for leaving the army is in sight, Joe will no longer be as generous as before, allowing the army to take advantage of him for free.

Damn it, if I could charge the army for the patent on the helmet, even if it was just one penny per helmet, I could buy a mansion on London's Upper East Side.

Fueled by anger at being taken advantage of, Joe began to ponder what simple little things he could make right now, something that would allow him to profit from the army and then from the war itself.
Soon, in the small, dark room of the military police headquarters, Qiao realized something!
As we all know, whether in the military or among civilians, what to eat and how to eat is always a big question.

Although canned food is available now, it usually requires a can opener or a can opener to open it. Opening cans with these tools is not only tiring and troublesome, but can openers are also quite bulky.

So much so that in the army, soldiers often used bayonets to deal with the canned food, and the scene looked like Joe's old friend was about to eat canned ant cows, except without flamethrowers.

It's obvious that no one in this world has ever seen a pull tab, the kind of thing that opens a can without any tools. Since no one else has seen it, Joe says he has... no, he invented it.

The pull tab on a soda can is almost effortless to design; the only challenge lies in its manufacturing, which requires precise and reliable stamping technology.

This requires some work on the stamping machine, but apart from that, the pull tab design can be widely used anywhere.

This design can be used for everything from food and drinks to even bullet boxes. It's practically a perfect money-printing machine. With this thing, who would still use those cumbersome can openers?

He could make a fortune just by selling licenses.

As for stamping technology... well, that's easy. As an engineer who occasionally needs to tighten screws until they smoke on the production line, Joe not only knows a little about stamping but also has some knowledge of die casting and injection molding.

The tears shed on the production line back then are about to turn into money in my own wallet; machinery can actually be quite popular.

Thinking of this, Joe unconsciously let out a pleasant laugh.

Just as Joe unconsciously chuckled, he didn't notice a series of footsteps outside the small dark room.

Before entering the military police's small dark room, Major General Parker harbored some resentment towards Joe.

After all, in Major General Parker's view, he was the one who secured the medal for Joe, and he was preparing to apply for another medal for Joe and promote him directly to officer. For ordinary non-commissioned officers, this was a good thing that even a coin in a wishing well wouldn't dare to dream of.

But how did Joe repay him?
On the first day of their retreat and rest, they gathered in a bar to drink and even assaulted the military police. Not only did they assault the military police assigned to the 32nd Division, but they also assaulted several other military police units and military police units maintaining local order.

Even a major general would find this kind of thing very troublesome to handle.

Fortunately, as a major general, Major General Parker knew many people in the military, and the social circle in London is not that big, so this incident did not cause too much of a stir.

After questioning the soldiers who had not been arrested by the military police, along with the officers of several other units, they discovered that the military police were also involved in the incident.

The soldiers were just drinking in the bar at first, they didn't even leave the bar, no one broke anything or touched the maids' butts or anything, they were just resting normally.

It was the military police who came to cause trouble because there were too many people, so they should bear half the blame for this, right?

Of course, the military police would never admit to such a thing. Even if they were 99% at fault, wouldn't the soldiers bear 1% of the responsibility?

They don't drink together, and they sing so badly. Will we inspect that bar?

Maintaining military discipline is our duty!

What? You mean the Joe who hosted this dinner is the Joe from the newspaper, and His Majesty even knows this guy?

Oh dear, I knew it! How could someone as generous as Joe be a violator of military discipline? Joe's intentions were good; it was the soldiers who were just there to freeload that messed things up.

We'll investigate this further. We'll make sure no innocent person is wronged and no bad person gets away with it!
After a reinvestigation, the military police concluded that Joe did not participate in or encourage the bar fight, but because he invited too many people to drink, which could easily lead to an accident, he was put in solitary confinement for three days to reflect on his actions.

Oh, it's already the third day. Well, since you're here, Commander Parker, let's go get the people together.

You asked how to write the report on this incident?
Hey, it's just a few privates causing trouble, right? We've found them. The one who started the trouble that day was a private from York. His company was wiped out, so no one will object. Let's just leave it at that.

Then, when Major General Parker followed the military police major into the military police's small dark room, preparing to take Joe away and teach the kid a lesson on the way back to the division headquarters, to let him know that this is the army, and that money doesn't buy you anything here.

Major General Parker heard a burst of cheerful laughter coming from the corridor of the small dark room. The laughter was so cheerful that it felt as if the owner of the sound was about to be received by the king and awarded a medal weighing a ton.

It's just that this kind of laughter comes from a place like this...

Major General Parker glanced at the military police major standing beside him, his eyes filled with deep questioning.

Faced with Major General Parker's gaze, the military police major was also dumbfounded. There were all sorts of people locked up in this small dark room. Some had been cursing in a rage for hours without stopping, some had been crying so hard that it was frightening to think they would drown themselves in their tears, and some had become withdrawn as soon as they entered, as silent as a stone.

But this is the first time I've seen someone laughing like this. Could it be that the conditions are so bad that they've driven someone crazy?

Who has such poor mental fortitude? It's just a little dark room, is it really that serious?
However, as the laughter drew closer, the military police major began to panic. Just ahead was Guan Qiao's solitary confinement room. Had this man gone mad after only three days?

Didn't the newspapers say he was a hero who single-handedly held his trenches, and also a great inventor? How could he be so mentally fragile?
Oh no, oh no! If this person has really gone mad, and even His Majesty the King knows about his deeds, won't the people curse him to death?!

It's obvious that newspapers will soon be filled with headlines like "Shocking! Why are military police detaining a combat hero?", "Why is the combat hero laughing? The reason behind it is chilling," and "What the Teutons couldn't do, our military police have done!"

If that's the case, then one's sociological life would have to end before one's biological life ends!
Damn it! Which bastard arrested him in the first place?! Why did you have to provoke him?
As the military police major and Major General Parker approached the cell where Joe was being held, they heard laughter coming incessantly from the small, dark room in front of them.

Major General Parker's gaze at the military police major was as cold as a Teutonic bayonet, while the military police major was in a panic, feeling as if he were going to his own grave.

With trembling hands, the military police major pulled out his key and opened the door to the small dark room.

With a creaking sound from the iron gate, a figure with his back to the gate, laughing loudly and seemingly carving something on the ground, appeared in the dimly lit room.

Looking at the figure disappearing into the dark room, the military police major's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally died.

Oh no, this doesn't look like a normal person's outfit at all.

What exactly happened here these past three days? Weren't we told not to come here except to deliver food?!
What on earth happened?!

The excited military police major swallowed hard, not daring to even look to the side. If looks could kill, they would have killed Major General Parker a hundred times over. He mustered the last bit of courage he had left.

The military police major spoke, his voice trembling.

"Qiao..."

"Joe, this guy's pretty good."

Meanwhile, in the palace, His Majesty George was looking at the report in his hands.

"They actually managed to organize the remnants of their forces and launch a counterattack, annihilating at least two companies of Teutons. This shows both courage and strategy, and they deserve commendation."

Seeing His Majesty George in such a good mood, Sir Cumming, the head of overseas intelligence, nervously swallowed. Although he knew the Teutons would get their newspapers sooner or later, Sir Cumming hadn't expected them to have such a way of thinking.

Although His Majesty is usually a humble person, he must be angry to see such a report, right?

However, he couldn't hide the newspaper, so with a bit of trepidation, Sir Cumming handed it to His Majesty George.

"Your Majesty, this is a Teutonic newspaper from two days ago."

"Oh? Let me see."

His Majesty George put down the report he was holding and took the newspaper from Sir Cumming.

The next second, His Majesty George's roar echoed through the palace.

"Damn Teutons! They're lawless!"

(End of this chapter)