Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

Finally, she spoke.

"Your biggest mistake was letting Hans go back," she said. "If you tell me where the dark cell is, I'll kill him myself."

Richard sighed, pushed open the iron gate, walked down the steps, and stood beside her.

"This is not something I can decide." He leaned against the fence. "You know, the British government would never allow a spy to testify in court; they would rather use his political value."

Eleanor chuckled, then changed the subject: "The commotion at Subrines a few days ago was quite significant. To be honest, even I was shocked by the test results. But when I learned that you also participated in the test launch, I didn't even need to send anyone to investigate; I knew it was your invention."

Richard frowned. "It's not too late to keep this a secret."

Eleanor shook her head and sighed softly: "Do you think I'm some character from a novel? I reported this to Berlin immediately. Besides, I had no way of keeping it a secret."

Richard's heart sank. He knew that Eleanor was indeed powerless. Even if she didn't say anything, other spies would, and if Berlin investigated, she would be in danger.

This is a matter of survival.

"So?" he began. "What did Berlin say?"

Eleanor held the cigarette between her fingers, tilted her head, and let her wind-blown hair slide off her face and fall to one side: "Now there are two paths."

"And the first one?"

"The first option is for you to accept Berlin's offer. Take your formula and process to Prussia, and they say you can..." She took a drag of her cigarette and slowly exhaled, "...name whatever you want."

Richard pursed his lips and turned his face in another direction.

Looking at his profile, Eleanor said as if she had expected it, "However, based on what I know of you, you should have already negotiated terms with the British government, so you won't take this path."

Richard shook his head and turned back to look at her: "And the second one?"

Eleanor's expression turned serious, and his azure eyes dimmed for a moment in the gaslight.

"If Prussia doesn't get your technology, they will destroy it."

Richard took a deep breath: "They're going to kill me?"

"Of course not, that's the last resort. If they can't steal your technology, they'll destroy it. And if you don't cooperate in destroying it..." She paused, "...killing you is the final order."

Richard's back tensed; he could almost see the approaching storm and the leaden wall of clouds on the horizon.

In the standoff in the North Sea, his cannons would give the Empire an absolute advantage, rendering Krupp cannons useless. The Prussian high command would not allow him to live and enjoy all of this.

Eleanor took one last drag of her cigarette, then removed it from her lips, letting the butt fall onto the stone floor.

"If that final step really happens," she said, "Hans will definitely be the first to sign up to come back from Berlin."

"He won't just mess with you. He'll mess with both of us." She looked Richard into the eyes. "And... Millie too."

When she mentioned Millie, it was as if something was stuck in her throat.

That afternoon, the petite girl in the clothing store stuffed the ledger into Hans's pocket, her eyes shining like two stars.

Richard clenched his fist.

He would not back down. His days of compromising with Prussian spies were over. Their activities in the city had to stop. Everything he had worked so hard to build could not be destroyed by a secret report from Berlin.

If Prussia wants war, then let it come.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head, "I can't help you."

Eleanor nodded, giving a forced smile.

"It's okay." Her voice was very soft, as if floating in mid-air. "I didn't expect us to be able to cooperate anyway."

She tugged at the hem of her coat and took a few steps in another direction.

"This is the last time we'll see each other like this, Richard," her voice drifted on the wind. "Take care."

Richard watched her retreating figure, while Eleanor's shoulders hunched slightly; he had never seen her like this before.

"You too," he said.

He turned around, pushed open the iron gate, and went back inside.

The warmth from the house enveloped his cold cheeks and fingers.

He went into the bedroom, pulled the gun from his waistband, and placed it on the bedside table.

Richard took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair at the foot of the bed. A small patch of the coat's shoulder was damp from the night fog, leaving a dark water stain on the dark gray wool fabric.

He let out a long breath, took off his shirt, and casually draped it over the armrest of the chair.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress springs made a soft creak, and when he lay down, he felt a chill the moment his back touched the sheet.

Richard closed his eyes, his mind filled with all sorts of thoughts.

He knew that starting tonight, his file in Berlin had been dug up and given new labels.

Prussian spies would do everything in their power to infiltrate every corner of his life, trying to steal his formulas and find his secret laboratory.

But he had already devised a method for separating the information on the formula: Godfrey Morgan of Monmouth had the formula for low-carbon steel, Sir Siemens had the core technology for high-carbon chromium-nickel alloys, and Baron Armstrong knew how to make molds and process them.

It's impossible for spies to get the complete version from the British government, which means that with three people and three pieces of the puzzle, the complete technology cannot be pieced together if one piece is missing.

But this is just the beginning.

He had to ensure the safety of his home and laboratory.

Home is easy to arrange; I live in a safe area of ​​Kensington, where police officers patrol regularly at night with hunting dogs.

The house has walls and iron gates, a butler and servants, but to turn it into a true fortress, he needs more specialized forces.

He needs the help of the Secret Service.

Reginald, that old fox, has eyes and ears everywhere in the British government. He probably already knows that Richard has obtained the Queen's approval. Richard doesn't need to go to him; he will come to him himself.

Richard scratched his head in frustration. He didn't like working with Reginald, but sometimes the person you least want to be with is the one you can't live without.

He closed his eyes; there was still much to be done.

Passive defense is a dead end; he must take the initiative and find a way to dismantle their spy network.

We must not be dragged into that so-called final step, letting executioners like Hans wait for Millie to get off work in the dark alley. This is not a place where they can come and go as they please.

Once his cannons are mounted on warships, the empire's coastline will become an insurmountable iron wall.

Richard leaned against the pillows and gradually drifted off to sleep.