Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

Various dies used for hot extrusion lay on the track, ranging from small dies a few inches to large dies a few feet in size, all neatly arranged in a row.

Abel stopped in his tracks, forgetting that just a few minutes ago he had been complaining about back pain.

His eyes widened, his lips parted slightly, and he stared at the row of high-voltage energy storage towers that were being prepared.

Richard had walked halfway before realizing there were no footsteps behind him, so he turned around and called out to him.

"Mr. Abel?" he said.

Abel didn't react; his eyes were still fixed on the row of smooth, flowing modules. He could roughly guess their shapes, but couldn't imagine their purpose.

"...Mr. Abel?" Richard raised his voice slightly and called out again.

Abel then seemed to snap out of his daze, abruptly turning his head, his expression shifting from bewilderment to shock.

He leaned on his walking stick and strode quickly to Richard's side.

"The machinery here is more advanced than that of the Woolwich Arsenal," he said, pointing to the row of modules on the tracks. "What are those modules for?"

Richard chuckled, "That's for another master like yourself."

He turned to the side and waved towards the depths of the workshop: "Your laboratory is here."

The three men walked into the shipyard, where Abel's laboratory was located in a secluded corner, nearly a hundred meters away from the hydraulic press and steam hammer.

A brass plaque reads: Explosives Laboratory, No Unauthorized Entry.

The reason it is so far from the forging workshop is that after the vibrations there are absorbed by the top 100 meters of soil and rock, the remaining low-frequency vibrations can be easily isolated by the gaps left between the walls.

This way, the flammable and explosive materials in the laboratory will not be affected in any way.

Richard pushed open the door and stepped aside to let Abel go in first.

Abel stepped over the threshold, put on his pince-nez glasses, looked around, and froze in place as if he had been frozen in place.

The interior is very spacious, with moisture-proof flooring and explosion-proof walls already installed. Fume hoods made of special steel plates and high-strength laminated glass are lined up along the inner walls, each connected to an independent steam fan.

The pipe runs through the back of the wall and connects to the previously discovered sewage outlet.

Any toxic gases, dust, or volatile solvents produced will be instantly drawn away by that powerful airflow.

This was specially designed for Abel, who had spent his entire life battling nitric acid poisoning, which resulted in his extremely poor respiratory system in his later years.

With this system, he no longer had to wear a makeshift mask and endure the toxic fumes to refine nitric acid and sulfuric acid.

Abel leaned his walking stick against the wall, trembling, and pressed his hand against the glass window of the blast room, feeling its thickness.

His eyes were somewhat dazed. When he turned around, he saw the experimental table outside and the neatly arranged glassware, each one brand new and exactly the same as what he had requested.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up because there was a device he had never seen before: a water bath mixer.

The bronze mechanical stirring claw is suspended in the center of the hot water jacket, and its curved end fits perfectly against the inner wall of the beaker. It will not scratch the glass when rotating, nor will it leave any corners that cannot be stirred.

The outer wall of the interlayer is equipped with thermometers and water control valves, which can precisely control the temperature of the water bath.

Abel looked down at it, a feeling that was both familiar and strange welling up inside him.

"What is this?" he asked.

"This is a water bath temperature-controlled mixer." Richard came to his side. "To be honest, you were the one who inspired me. Your gunpowder stability testing device, which observes the changes in gunpowder at different temperatures by varying the temperature of the water, is very enlightening."

He watched as Abel's fingers carefully traced the edge of the stirring paddle, and then said, "I think if we could combine stable temperature control with continuous stirring, we could test more recipes in a shorter time and never have to worry about sore hands again."

Abel fell silent.

He pulled his hand back behind his back, took one last look at the laboratory Richard had built especially for him, and finally a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

"I'll stay because of your sincerity," he said.

"That's wonderful." Richard and Abel shook hands, and at that moment they reached a kind of tacit understanding, like that of close friends.

Abel looked at the raw materials on the cabinet and said, "We need an assistant here, and I hope to bring my student with me."

Richard hesitated, glancing at Reginald, and the two exchanged a glance.

"Can he...be trusted?" Richard asked. "After all, this is a secret laboratory."

“Of course,” Abel nodded affirmatively. “He is also a student at the Royal Academy of Chemistry. I may be a little harsh on him sometimes, but… for a newcomer who has only been in the field for two years, he has done quite well.”

Reginald didn't speak, but silently withdrew. Richard knew he was going to investigate the man's background.

“Of course,” Richard said, looking at Abel, “but you have to make him understand the importance of our project.”

Abel nodded, took the pince-nez glasses off his nose, and wiped the lenses with the corner of his shirt: "No problem, he's been with me for two years, he knows what to say and what not to say."

He took one last, wistful look at the water bath mixer: "Now that everything is arranged, I'll head back. Woolwich's arsenal can't do without me for a moment."

Abel picked up the walking stick leaning against the wall and walked towards the door.

Richard lingered in the lab for a while, then slowly walked back to the factory.

He leaned against a cast iron pillar, his hands in his coat pockets, staring at the hydraulic press that was being assembled.

He was thinking about Eleanor, what would she do?

Richard imagined it over and over in his mind, envisioning her infiltrating his production chain and bribing those around him.

Then he remembered the MICE principle, also known as the rat principle.

This is a term from modern intelligence science, but it has never changed in the thousands of years of intelligence struggles of humankind.

M represents money and benefits, which is the most direct leverage. Give someone enough money to make them feel it's worth the risk, and they will open their mouth.

But not everyone can be bought with money, especially the people Richard approached.

The "I" represents ideology and belief, which is the most dangerous leverage. If a person believes that what they are doing is right, or for a higher justice, then no morality or law can restrain them.

Are there such people among those around him? Siemens is Prussian, but he had long since become a British citizen, and everything he did proved that he was worthy of the British government's trust.

C represents leverage and coercion, which is the dirtiest form of leverage. It involves finding someone's weakness, threatening them, and controlling them.

This method works for ordinary people, but it's completely ineffective for those with clean records.

The Morgan family has been operating in the area for hundreds of years; they're deeply entrenched and have seen it all.

Armstrong was a seasoned veteran in Parliament; if it were so easy to find fault with him, he would have been brought down long ago.

E represents vanity and self-expression, which is the most easily overlooked leverage.

Some people become spies simply to be seen, to be recognized by others, and to experience what it feels like to be treated as an important person.

They leak information because in the process, they gain a kind of illusion of being needed and trusted.

Such people are especially common in the scientific research field. They deal with core technologies every day, but are never in the spotlight.

If someone gave them a chance to feel that their knowledge and judgment were valuable, what would they do?