I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 228: After Modification - Christmas is Coming

Faulty designs should naturally be left to the opponents.

Steed’s approach was quite straightforward.

There were always designers in the factory who, knowing many secrets of the Saint-Étienne Armory, believed Steed dared not fire them. Indeed, Steed was concerned about this and often turned a blind eye to their violations and laziness, which only made them more audacious.

Now, Steed thought it was a good opportunity to address this.

Of course, before dismissing them, Steed would have them sign "non-disclosure agreements" with lofty penalties for any breaches, making these designers firmly believe that the information they held was valuable.

The design drawings of the Shao Sha Machine Gun would eventually end up in the hands of the Pito Armory, of that there was no doubt.

But that was exactly what Steed hoped for.

Steed could even imagine the mood at the Pito Armory when they saw these design drawings.

Without design experience or relevant talent, they might be disassembling and studying machine guns from around the world, trying to create their own.

Suddenly, a mature machine gun design lay in front of them, prompting great joy. They would rush to register the industrial property and purchase machines for mass production at top speed to outpace the Saint-Étienne Armory.

Unfortunately, they didn’t realize that Saint-Étienne was on a different level than they were. The only purpose of their machine gun’s production was to be ruthlessly trampled underfoot by Saint-Étienne as a mere foil to the victor.

Steed was quite satisfied with this vision and became more convinced of his decision: supporting Shire was the correct choice. No one could defeat Shire, whether on the battlefield or in equipment design, because he understood war the best and had a talent for it.

Before leaving, Shire gave Steed another suggestion: "It’s time to develop a new bullet, Steed. Only by doing so can you reclaim the rifle market!"

Steed was enlightened.

Shire was right. Everything was due to the bullets: Lebel’s tube magazine was because of the bullet, Berthier’s capacity of only three rounds was because of the bullet, and the Shao Sha Machine Gun had to be designed with a scythe-shaped magazine also because of the bullet.

All the design flaws originated from the large taper of the bullets. So why not solve the root problem?

Steed tightly grasped Shire’s hand, saying excitedly, "Thank you very much, Colonel! I know what to do now."

He indeed knew what to do. It was simple, just to copy the bullets of the German Mauser rifle. What could Mauser do during wartime? Moreover, the Germans were also copying the hand grenades and mortars from Saint-Étienne!

Steed wanted to flatter Shire with phrases like, "You are our direction, our future, Colonel!" and "With you, we are invincible!"

But thinking it might not suit his age, he ultimately kept the praise and excitement in his eyes.

...

Shire got a three-day holiday, the first since he joined the military service.

The leave was approved by Gallieni, who smiled and said to Shire, "Merry Christmas!"

Shire was taken aback, realizing it was Christmas time for Europeans.

"Merry Christmas!" Shire replied.

This feeling was somewhat strange. As a time traveler, Shire celebrated more of the Spring Festival, which was not the case here.

...

In the car returning to Davaz, Shire curiously watched the swirling snowflakes outside the window.

Before this, Shire always thought hexagonal snowflakes only appeared in fairy tale picture books, believing they were beautified creations. Now he realized they truly existed and were falling right before his eyes.

"Shire!"

As Shire pondered how they formed, he heard someone calling his name from afar.

Turning his head, he saw a group of boys playing under a sycamore tree by the roadside.

Originally throwing snowballs at each other, they stopped their actions upon noticing Shire’s car, waving at him and inviting him to join.

Recognizing them as his classmates, including Teddy, Shire hurriedly waved back, "Hello!"

Lauren turned his head gently and asked, "Do you need to stop, Colonel?"

After hesitating for a moment, Shire answered, "No, Major, I have other matters."

In fact, Shire had a lot of free time and really wanted to be with them, but he felt he could no longer blend into that carefree group, even though he and they were of similar age.

And they, Shire’s former classmates, would undoubtedly feel immense pressure if Shire did join their play.

Shire could even imagine the strange scene: no snowballs would magically hit him, classmates would all be extremely cautious, occasionally glancing at the revolver on Shire’s waist, and at Major Laurent standing nearby and watching everything.

So, it was better to keep some distance!

...

The car slowly stopped in front of Dejoka’s cabin. Dejoka and Camille were decorating the Christmas tree inside when they saw Shire’s car approaching.

"Merry Christmas!" Camille opened his arms, giving Shire a hug, a proud and happy smile on his face.

Dejoka greeted Laurent, "Would you like a glass of wine, Major? Come inside and warm up?"

"No, Mr. Dejoka," Laurent politely declined. "I should go check on the factory; those brats never let me rest easy!"

Dejoka didn’t insist, waving as Laurent was about to turn around, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Major Laurent responded.

Dejoka added, "Tell them I’ll leave the Christmas gifts in the security room; everyone gets one!"

"Thank you very much, Mr. Dejoka!" Laurent turned back and replied.

As the car sped up, Major Laurent sighed inwardly, they were good people, conscientious capitalists. All French capitalists should be like them.

This was the strength of the sentimental Dejoka. He knew how to treat those around him well—guards, neighbors, and employees alike.

This trait would be a disaster for a small capitalist. Small capitalists didn’t have the capital to treat others well, quickly leading to bankruptcy and then facing others’ disdain, even from those they once treated well.

But by now, Shire was no longer a small capitalist, his assets had rapidly grown to over 20 million francs in just three months.

Motorcycles, tractors, tanks, grenades, planes...

This didn’t even include the down payment for the "Shire A1" Tank and the U.S. military’s 4382.75 million franc production authorization fee.

The former was because the French military had no money and hoped Shire Tractor Factory could "deliver first, pay later."

The latter was because the U.S. military had to go through procedures, and the funds were expected to arrive in the next couple of days.

Selling military goods, especially those that win battles, increased wealth at an unimaginable speed, and the speed was still accelerating.

With such an economic foundation, Shire needed a steward like Dejoka: spending a tiny bit of money to show some kindness and receive a great reputation, why not do it?

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