Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

"My lord, you said you'd show us some good things, so why did you bring us here?"

In a secluded open space east of Grayrock Town, Liya curiously examined the several things covered with thick oilcloth at Lynn's feet.

Beside her stood Bray, the scarred hunter with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings. Leon stood a little further away, his expression calm. Herbert, Thorin, Hal, and the others had also been called over by Lynn.

This is a rare instance of Lynn bringing together all the technical staff. The main reason is that what we are going to show today is almost equivalent to a revolution in this era.

Lynn needs someone to witness this with him.

When Lynn summoned everyone, they only heard that there was "something new" to see, but no one knew exactly what it was.

Looking at those piles of tightly covered objects, and with a faint, pungent, and unfamiliar smell wafting in the air, one can't help but feel curious and speculate.

Lynn smiled at Lia, but instead of answering her directly, he looked around at everyone and said, "Everyone has worked hard lately. Whether it's building walls, training troops, gathering intelligence, or honing skills."

He paused for a moment, then said, "I called you all here today to show you some new things that we in Grayrock Town have come up with ourselves. Perhaps this will give you more confidence in what you may be facing next."

Confidence? The group exchanged glances.

The pressure from the north weighed on everyone's hearts like a stone. The meaning behind the lord's words...

Lynn lifted the first sheet of oilcloth.

Lying below was a long, dark weapon made of a combination of metal and wood.

They lay there quietly, the barrels gleaming matte in the afternoon sun, the metal parts of the flintlock mechanism flashing with a cold luster.

Hal and Rod's eyes lit up. They knew this thing all too well; it was something they had created.

"What is this?" Leah leaned closer, her amber eyes filled with curiosity. "A newly made spear? Why is it so short, and the head is an iron pipe?"

Bray frowned. As an expert with bows, he was very sensitive to the form of ranged weapons.

This thing has no string, no bow arm, and a strange wooden support at the tail... It doesn't look like it can launch anything at all.

Could it be some kind of new crossbow? But where is the crossbow arm?

Leon, however, was more focused on the iron pipe. He stepped forward, and after obtaining Lynn's permission, carefully picked it up.

It felt heavy in my hand, much heavier than it looked: "Sir, this is... a weapon?"

"This is called a flintlock musket." Lynn took the musket from Leon and skillfully inspected the hammer and powder chamber. "It's a weapon that uses gunpowder to propel a projectile."

Everyone looked at each other, no one could understand what Lynn was talking about, not even Hal and Rhodes, who had heard Lynn explain it once before.

Lynn didn't intend to explain the workings of the gun in detail this time either.

He picked up the prepared ration of oil paper gunpowder packets and lead pellets from the table next to him and began loading them.

Lynn's movements were steady and orderly: he opened the ignition pool, poured in the fine medicine, and covered it.

Tear open the main gunpowder pack, pour it in through the muzzle, compact it with a tamping rod, add lead pellets, and compact it again.

The whole process was very quiet, with only the slight friction sound of metal and wood.

Everyone watched intently. Hal and Rod held their breath; they had painstakingly crafted this gun, painstakingly working on it countless times, and were filled with both anticipation and tension.

Once loaded, Lynn cocked the hammer, producing a soft "click".

He raised his gun, butt against his shoulder, and aimed at the prepared target in the distance.

"Bang!!!"

A deafening explosion suddenly erupted in the open field! It was like a bolt from the blue! The gun muzzle spewed out a dazzling flash of light and billowing smoke, and the acrid smell of gunpowder instantly filled the air!

Startled, Lia jumped back, her amber eyes widening, and her hand instinctively gripped the dagger at her waist.

Bray's muscles tensed instantly, and he almost ripped the compound bow off his back.

Leon's pupils contracted sharply, and his grip on the sword tightened abruptly.

The others were so frightened by the loud noise that they took several steps back, their faces turning pale.

Almost simultaneously with the loud bang, the center of the thick wooden target with a circle drawn on it, a hundred paces away, suddenly exploded!

Wood chips flew everywhere, and a hole the size of a bowl was clearly visible!

As the smoke and dust dissipated, the scene was deathly silent. Only the distant fluttering of a few startled birds could be heard.

Leah was the first to come to her senses. She pointed to the hole in the distance, then looked at the strange, still-smoking iron pipe in Lynn's hand, her voice slightly trembling:

"Was it...was that this thing...that shot out? Just a bang, and the wooden planks that far away...shattered?"

Leon didn't say anything. He strode over to the target and examined the hole carefully.

The edges were charred black; the wooden plank had been torn apart and pierced through by immense force. He gestured with his hand to indicate the thickness and estimated the distance.

"This...this power..." Leon's voice was somewhat hoarse. As the commander of the militia, he instantly thought of more.

If a volley of these weapons were fired simultaneously... even with a slow reload, the sheer firepower and deterrent effect of that instant...

"How long does it take to reload once?" Leon asked the crucial question.

"If you're skilled, it takes about twenty to thirty breaths," Lynn said truthfully.

He made no attempt to hide his flaws. But even so, no one present dared to underestimate this thing.

"Twenty breaths..." Leon counted silently, his brows furrowed, but his eyes gleamed.

Slow, indeed slow. But what if it's arranged properly, with several rows firing in rotation? Or used as the first wave of attack in defense?

Before everyone could process the shock of the flintlock musket, Lynn lifted the second sheet of oilcloth.

Below is a pile of earthenware jars, their mouths sealed with mud, with an oil-soaked hemp rope protruding from them.

"This thing is called a thunderbolt." Lynn picked one up and weighed it in his hand. "It's filled with gunpowder and scraps of iron and pebbles. Light the fuse and throw it. Once the fuse burns out, the canister will either land on the ground or be on top of an enemy..."

He paused for a moment: "It will explode."

Lynn briefly explained the principle and usage, and then asked Leon to try throwing it.

Leon picked up a thunderbolt and lit the fuse with a tinderbox. The hemp rope hissed and burned, emitting blue smoke.

He gripped the sinew ropes at both ends of the grenade-throwing bag with both hands, put the thunderbolt into the bag, and began to spin it vigorously above his head.

After the rope had been spun four or five times, Leon seized the opportunity, shouted loudly, and suddenly loosened one end!

The burning pottery jar traced a high parabola before landing precisely on the target area!

All eyes followed the smoking black dot.

The earthenware jar fell to the ground.

"boom!!!"

Another loud bang! Although not as sharp and violent as a flintlock musket, it was much deeper and more resonant.

Flames and black smoke rose, and shattered pottery shards, iron pieces, and gravel exploded in all directions!

The wooden shields were blown to pieces, their leather surfaces cracked, and the scarecrows were overturned, with straw fragments flying everywhere.

The echoes of the explosion reverberated across the open ground.

This time, no one uttered a sound. Everyone stared in the direction of the explosion, remaining silent for a long time. The earthen bomb, which resembled divine punishment, brought them a deep shock.

Lynn looked at everyone, his gaze sweeping over each face etched with shock: "That concludes today's test. From today onward, everyone in Grayrock Town must get used to this sound, this smell."

"These things will be our greatest source of confidence in resisting those people from the north."