Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

Richard's words seemed to freeze time, leaving Gladstone speechless.

The silence lasted a long time, so long that Richard himself wondered if there was a grammatical problem with the sentence he had just uttered, and if Gladstone hadn't understood it.

Gladstone looked at Sir Armstrong with suspicion and slowly asked, "Were you aware of this decision?"

He asked this question because, during his time as Chancellor of the Exchequer, he had seen too many businessmen who, after making grand pronouncements, would secretly pull out a document from their sleeves requesting government funding.

The term "gratuitous transfer" is not unfamiliar, but it carries too much weight. He was certain this was not a carefully orchestrated charade.

Armstrong's face remained expressionless, and he didn't even try to distance himself from the situation.

"I know," he replied clearly. "To be honest, Richard's sincere patriotism initially shocked me as well."

Gladstone narrowed his eyes slightly, shifting his gaze away from Armstrong's face.

He knew, of course, that Armstrong was covering for Richard so that he could retreat into the background, but he didn't expose him.

Gladstone's gaze returned to Richard.

“Richard,” Gladstone asked, “do you realize that this high-profile behavior puts a lot of political pressure on you?”

Richard pursed his lips.

Gladstone's meaning was clear: a private entrepreneur, without a title or background, had created cannons that surpassed those of the Royal Arsenal, solving a threat that kept the Navy and Army up at night. This in itself was a slap in the face to the bureaucrats who had held secure jobs at the Woolwich Arsenal for decades.

He then planned to donate the technology to the country free of charge, which was tantamount to standing on the stage and loudly declaring to them: Your engineers are not as good as a young boy, and you can also clean up your patent database.

Every year, the War Office and the Royal Ordnance Factory try every means to get budgets from the Treasury. Those figures are debated and revised again and again in Parliament before becoming a compromise that barely keeps all parties from overturning the table.

His move was tantamount to tearing off the mask of civility and blocking his competitor's path to wealth.

Richard could almost imagine that the powerful and wealthy would not give him a friendly look during the upcoming public test firing.

But Richard wasn't afraid; he had ways of making those people beg to cooperate with him.

He met Gladstone's eyes: "Of course I know, but I assure you this is by no means some huge business conspiracy. It's a deal that will absolutely not be a loss for you and the British government."

Gladstone stroked his beard, a shallow frown forming between his brows: "What do you mean?"

"I'm willing to donate this game-changing technology. It means the government can commission anyone to build this cannon." Richard then changed the subject, "But as you know, no one in all of Britain, except Sir Armstrong's factory, can build it."

Gladstone paused, then the wrinkles between his brows slowly relaxed: "This is the real reason you two came here."

Richard laughed and said, "I won't lie to you. Krupp's cannons have to be drastically adjusted in elevation to calibrate the trajectory when they need to aim at a target three kilometers away. But my cannons can accurately penetrate their hulls from twice that distance."

"This will give the Empire stable control of the seas," he paused, "and all I want is to follow in Baron Armstrong's footsteps."

Upon hearing this, Gladstone's shoulders relaxed, and his expression softened.

Although the problem is not yet solved, it is easily solved.

Convincing the Queen to grant a peerage to a private entrepreneur is far easier than obtaining a substantial grant from Parliament.

But he hasn't completely let go of his caution.

"Sir Armstrong became the Inspector General of the Royal Arsenal after transferring the patent," Gladstone said, looking at Richard. "You want to take charge of the Royal Arsenal too?"

Richard laughed. "You're joking, Mr. Prime Minister. What's the difference between sending me to Woolwich and sending a sheep to the wolves?"

He sat up straight, his smile fading. "I hope you can establish a Royal Strategic Materials Laboratory. Bring in talented individuals to serve the Empire. The Empire's neglect of materials is the biggest reason for today's technological gap."

Gladstone watched him with great interest.

The answer was already clear: Richard refused Woolwich's official title, which meant he was rejecting those paper powers that could be questioned and impeached.

What he wanted was to establish a new institution to give the craft the name "Royal" and protect it with the prestige of the empire.

They gave up superficial benefits in exchange for de facto monopoly and political protection.

Although Gladstone did not favor the monopoly model, he also knew that the stability of the country must be maintained by hard power on the battlefield.

If he had to choose between a free market and national security, he would choose the latter.

He thought for a moment, then stood up from his chair, walked to his desk, and pulled out a piece of paper from the pile of messy documents.

Then he picked up a pen and wrote a few lines on the paper.

After finishing writing, he folded the paper, put it in an envelope, and called the servants outside the door.

"Alright then," Gladstone turned around, "on the last day of this month, I will hold a public test firing at the Royal Artillery Grounds in Subrines. I will also invite senior naval officers, the head of the Royal Arsenal, and physicists from the Royal Society to participate."

He handed the letter to the servant, gave him a few instructions, and then said, "If they all agree, then your request can be fulfilled. Is that alright with you?"

Richard was confident; no matter how many high-ranking officials there were, in his mind they were just a few more pairs of eyes.

"No problem," Richard stood up, "I'll definitely adjust the cannon and give you all a surprise."

Sir Armstrong also stood up: "Mr. Prime Minister, I assure you that you have not misjudged him. When that shell crossed the six-kilometer mark and hit its target, I saw the future of the Empire."

For some reason, Richard seemed to sense that Armstrong's words came from the heart, that he, as an engineer and politician, was sincere about science and the country.

The servant put away the letter, ran out of the room to prepare to draft an official document, and the door closed behind him.

Richard stood by the window, watching the trees outside the manor sway in the wind, shaking the snow off their branches.

"December 31st," Gladstone said, "don't let me down."

Richard bowed slightly: "No, Prime Minister, let them see if the Empire's new blade is sharp."

The two exchanged a smile and said nothing more, but Richard was determined not to mess up this public test launch.