Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 709 - 491: It’s Rare That a Transaction is Always Pleasant (Part 1)

Chapter 709: Chapter 491: It’s Rare That a Transaction is Always Pleasant (Part 1)

"I thought you had run away," said the elf ambassador, looking at Malin as he drove up on his motorcycle. Glancing at the bruised and swollen-faced gorilla standing outside the research institute, he forced a smile that seemed insincere as if he had already understood why Malin had disappeared.

Ha, what did he understand? The gorilla behind me could not only speak human language but also ride a motorcycle.

Malin muttered to himself in his mind and at the same time, opened the car door, got out, and shook hands with the elf ambassador, "Long time no see."

"Indeed, it’s been a long time since we parted in those damned sewers last time. By the way, don’t ask me to go there again next time. The sewers you humans have built all look the same, and my people and I got lost in there for two days."

That must have been a sore point for Mr. Elf Ambassador. When Malin found them during that time, the elf had none of his present grandeur.

"Don’t worry, next time I’ll send the dwarves and half-humans down," Malin said, smiling reassuringly at the elf ambassador.

"...Forget it, I’d rather go down myself." The mention of dwarves and half-humans seemed to instill the elf ambassador with a spirit of sorts.

Good, he really did have spirit.

Malin tossed the keys to the gorilla chief and then followed the elf ambassador into the research institute.

"The rocket blueprints you gave the dwarves last time, Sir Malin, they’ve already got a prototype, and today we’re going to have the first test launch. You’re not just early, you’re right on time," the elf ambassador reported to Malin about the work’s progress as they walked ahead.

"What about that 120mm cannon?" Malin glanced at the test field, where some kind of test was underway.

"The giants are testing it. They say the recoil is too strong, it’s over there," said the elf ambassador, pointing in the direction of a crowd.

What? What did you say? Giants are testing it?

No, I planned to mount that thing on a chariot, and you let giants hold it as a handheld cannon?!

Malin stopped the elf ambassador and took him to the test site, where from a distance, they saw a giant holding the long, 120mm cannon and firing... No, that kind of firing where the person is blown back after each shot can’t be called a test.

"Didn’t I say this thing was for mounting on chariots? The rockets are what the giants should be using," Malin stopped the test, had the giant put down the cannon and step back.

"But both the half-humans and dwarves said so, and we elves thought it made sense for the giants to handle this thing," the elf ambassador said, looking somewhat regretful as the giant walked away.

...Giants really are down on their luck to come across you lot of blockheads.

"Did you get stupid doing science? Even giants can’t ensure a hit rate with this thing. You’re wasting something as precious as gold," Malin gave the oncoming dwarven Great Craftsman and the chief half-human artisan a disparaging look, "Where’s the rocket? Let the giants try it."

Shortly afterward, the dwarves brought over four launchers.

Malin picked up a rocket launcher himself, admiring the familiar launcher, the streamlined warhead, and the familiar mechanical sight. He pointed the warhead at the sky, clenching his free hand into a fist.

"Is this... some kind of ritualistic gesture?" The elf ambassador, with his keen elvish sixth sense, noticed that Malin seemed to be murmuring something.

"You could say that; I’m praising the machinery," Malin said, his eyes wide open as he told a blatant lie, and then aimed the launcher at the target.

He straightened the sight, aimed at the target, and pulled the trigger. The 90mm caliber heavy rocket was ignited, and the next second, as it flew towards the target, it veered off course, and its hundred-meter journey ended at seventy-nine meters, the rocket plunging into the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

"The tail fins of the projectile didn’t maintain balance, and the thrust from the nozzle was uneven," Malin said, putting down the launcher, then gesturing for the giant gunners to continue.

Out of the remaining three shots, one hit the target, penetrating a layer of iron and killing all the large and small livestock behind it with a metallic jet, meeting the lethality standards.

One hit the target, then the firing pin failed, and the metallic lump met a silent end against the iron plate.

The last one flew just like the one Malin had fired; only this time it flew up into the sky and, after the fuel in the nozzle burned out, the falling warhead landed with a thump—turning the elf ambassador’s flowerbed into a thing of the past.

Poor Mr. Ambassador, one of the finest joys of his life, had met its tragic end.

Having documented the test results and signed his name, Malin glanced again at the elf ambassador who was holding his head in front of the flowerbed, lamenting his bygone youth, and said, "The half-humans will handle the improvements to the projectile. Great Craftsman Sir, I’ve drafted the chariot blueprints and now hand them over to you."

As he spoke, Malin took out a stack of blueprints from his private space.

"We’ll take care of it," said the dwarven Great Craftsman as he received the blueprints, looking very happy.

Malin then met with several representatives involved in theoretical research, had cordial discussions with them, and answered some questions about science until everything was finished and he realized it was nearly night.

Declining the dinner invitations from everyone, Malin activated a teleportation portal and returned to Rongma.

The coordinates led to the imperial garden of the palace. Stepping out of the garden, Malin noticed the increased number of female guards in the palace and many completely unfamiliar women.

In their greetings, Malin met Faye who brought Nova with her. They introduced the origins of these guards to Malin—they were mercenaries from the Benevolent Church, specially hired because of the multitude of noble families visiting them these past few days.

The Benevolent Church also gave them a fracture price, and both parties were happy with the transaction.

As for those women Malin did not recognize at all, they were the noble families remaining in the palace, responsible for taking care of everyone’s daily needs.

This made Malin internally exclaim that the nobles these days sure had a lot of business, "What about those cat-person guards?"

"They came from The Temple in The Great Forest Land, saying they are here to take care of Maya’s daily life. The Divine Master is quite generous," Faye answered Malin’s puzzlement.

"That Big-eared Fox can’t possibly be from the Church of Justice, right?" Malin looked at his own Big-eared Fox and asked.

"No, they come from the Big-eared Fox clan, saying they came to help Matilda," said Nova, while brushing Matilda’s fur. The Big-eared Fox seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

"This is ridiculous, do you guys really need so many people to take care of you?" Malin asked, hands on hips.

"We don’t need so many people, but I think you, Malin, do," Faye replied with a smile that carried a dangerous curve, "Look, there are even Frost Giant beauties over there; they came from the Frost Giant clan."

At this, Malin turned his head and saw the so-called beauty whose forearms were thicker than his waist. Ugh, Faye! Don’t defile the word ’beauty’ with your language!

The latter noticed Malin’s gaze and smiled... no, she showed a very terrifying smile.

Then, a Frost Giant who seemed to be an ambassador nodded at Malin, "Greetings to you, Sir Malin."

Malin pulled out his wallet and gave a sum of money to the six Frost Giant girls, telling them to immediately find accommodations outside.

"You don’t like them?" asked the ambassador curiously after watching them leave.

"My sense of aesthetics tells me this shouldn’t be the case," Malin candidly looked at the ambassador, "You’re waiting here for me, which should mean you want to see me, right?"

"Yes, this time I have come on behalf of the Frost Giants’ royal court. They have heard of your existence, and those six were their carefully selected young Frost Giant women. In their opinion, they would be much better than your current lovers."

Fine, I always thought Dwarves were the true fools, but it turns out that Giants are.

Malin sighed and shook his head, "If you continue like this, there won’t be anything left for us to talk about."

"Of course, sir, I must clarify that all of this is from their perspective. As for myself, I understand your feelings for your lovers. Thus, my visit is not only to meet you but also on behalf of the royal court to verify the war preparations of the human kingdoms from the South."

Listening to the ambassador, Malin smiled and shook his head, "I’m sorry for the bad sides you have seen, but we are indeed working hard to accelerate the pace."

"No, actually the war preparations of the human kingdoms have far exceeded our expectations. We had imagined that the most southern humans might not feel any urgency at all. But in fact, Sydney Union and Farol Principality turned out to have the best preparedness of all the human kingdoms."

"Well, since that’s the case, I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help you," Malin inquired, realizing the ambassador must have a comprehensive understanding, prompting him to ask.

"We need a large quantity of new-type Firearms. I’ve seen their power on the battlefields to the north of Sydney, and they are much more reliable than the flintlock guns we have."

"That would be difficult. Your Firearms require more metal, more wood, and we are short of craftsmen."

"Frost Giants have plenty of craftsmen. Sir Malin, I myself am actually a craftsman. If you need our craftsmen to swing their blacksmith hammers for you, you have come to the right place."

The words of the ambassador were attractive indeed, and Malin had heard stories of the Frost Giant craftsmen. According to the stories, most of the divine weapons from the North were forged by Frost Giants. "Then how many craftsmen can you provide within a month?"

"Twenty thousand," the ambassador said.

Malin was silent for a moment, thinking there might be an issue with his hearing, "Did you say twenty thousand?"

"Yes, our people can take ships from the North, landing at Carterburg in the Sydney Union from the North of Engma Empire, circumventing the Black Sea. We are familiar with this route; our merchant ships take it regularly."

"May I ask, wouldn’t the arrival of twenty thousand people affect your economy and society?"

"No, that’s about the number of all the adults in a Frost Giant clan. Their families will move south with them. You just need to provide them with land; they will forage for food themselves. In the southern lands, we Frost Giants can find much more and much better food than in the frozen tundra."

"...All right, let them come over. I will purchase the woods north of Carterburg from my friend for your clan’s new home. They will serve all Frost Giants. But, can you handle the materials for the Firearms?"

"That’s not a problem. We have found several open-air iron mines in the North, with good quality ore, and we can start mining. As for the wood for gunstocks, trust me, Sir Malin, in the world of Frost Giants, there’s never a shortage of wood."

With this reassurance, Malin approved the deal, asking the ambassador to depart for the North immediately with the news.

Of course, he also needed him to take the six beauties with him, lest Malin always feel some distrust for his personal safety.