Our Family Has Fallen

”Let’s go, there’s a shooting range here for testing.”

Lance brought the group and introduced the area.

All guns are tested after manufacturing, so there’s a shooting range not far from the weapons workshop.

Simultaneously, samples are randomly drawn from a batch for a full set of tests. If they don’t meet design requirements, the entire batch must be retested, and possibly entirely re-cast.

These guns are used on the frontline, and if they’re unreliable, it’s like hurting one’s allies.

This shooting range is certainly not as advanced as the one at the institute. There’s an earth wall at the end, the surroundings are cleared, wooden fences are nailed up to prevent peeking and accidental injuries.

The maximum target range is only fifty yards, as accuracy is not a major concern. All that’s required is durability and fewer malfunctions.

”You should know how to use it, right?”

Lance poured paper cartridges onto the table as a demonstration.

Margaret didn’t waste any words; she had already watched many times, and this wasn’t difficult, so she loaded the gun effortlessly.

”Loading is indeed much faster.” Margaret couldn’t hide her delight as she spoke, then she lifted the musket, aimed at the distant target, and pulled the trigger.

Lance observed, even an experienced gun handler like Margaret required about ten shots to adapt to a new gun and ammo type. The fifty-yard target had a spread of about seventy percent, which showed her skill; others could barely hit the target.

”How’s my Hamlet’s gun?”

”Average.” After playing with it, Margaret lost her initial excitement, like a woman quickly losing interest.

”Apart from improvements to the bayonet, there are few enhancements to this gun, but this paper cartridge is interesting. The charge is less, yet the force is unabated.”

Lance responded to Margaret’s words with silence.

Who doesn’t know modern firearms are good?

Isn’t it obvious to him as a person from the modern era?

One reason for slow firing systems is flint ignition is not one hundred percent reliable, which is related to the quality of the flint and the gun’s mechanical structure.

Sometimes three or four attempts may not even produce a spark to ignite the gunpowder, and windy, rainy, and humid conditions can also affect it, along with gunpowder quality, moisture, or caking issues.

In Lance’s view, current firearms development is incredibly backward, far from meeting his needs.

Current limitations in musket technology.

The gun itself requires work in areas like rifling, converting from muzzle-loading to breech-loading, and mechanical structures.

Then there’s bullet priming, moving from paper cartridges to copper casings, smokeless powder, and percussion caps.

Basic materials are inadequate, lacking strong alloys, plastics, seamless steel pipes, and such materials.

Then there’s the processing difficulty, lacking stamping, machine tools, and enough gunsmiths, making manual crafting impossible.

As for the propellant formulas, he only has partial understanding. Substances like Mercury Fulminate and nitrocellulose require extensive experimental research to transplant.

In this era, chemistry falls under alchemy, but absurdly, alchemy can actually work. Why research ordinary things when I can study supernatural power?

Lance has been pushing for firearm improvements since the establishment of the research institute, but the problem is he realized this isn’t the novel scenario where a protagonist makes a command, leading to explosive developments.

Perhaps such scenarios exist, but they are based on a large nation, not Hamlet with a population barely exceeding ten thousand, where ninety percent can’t even write their own names, supporting such advancements.

This needs to be solved gradually, requiring the progress of the era to promote advancements in mechanics, materials science, dynamics, chemistry, etc.

These fundamental disciplines are a huge burden on Lance, making the idea of a normal modern person advancing science laughable.

Damn it, Lance remembers reading novels were not like this... why don’t I have a tech system? Why don’t I have a mass production system? Why don’t I have a storage system?

At the very least, giving me a penguin recharge system would grudgingly be acceptable. Lying in bed and spending money to grow stronger, avoiding the hard work.

Lance’s silence seemed to make Margaret realize her words were hurtful, prompting her to awkwardly turn away and start fiddling with the ammunition, then suddenly turn to ask.

”Ah... why is thirty rounds considered a baseline?”

Lance isn’t the type to be easily hurt by words; he’s just being irrational.

Hearing her question, he casually explains.

”This is a preset for a soldier’s needs, considering carrying, storage, weapons, and other factors, the daily combat gunpowder requirement.

And this Type One ammunition baseline is thirty rounds, and as guns are improved, baseline ammunition for different equipment varies.”

”Why this name?” As a noble, Margaret had some artistic influence. If other guns had distinctive names, they’d be nicely named, but this one...

”The true name of this gun is Hamlet Type One, representing Hamlet’s existing gun research, modification, and the official production of the first gun model.

However, everyone is more accustomed to its informal name. Just like your father wouldn’t address you by your full name, for these craftsmen, it’s also Hamlet’s child.”