Hartford.
The president's office of Colt's Manufacturing Company.
The air was thick with the scent of gun oil and aged wood.
Drawings of various revolvers designed by Samuel Colt during his lifetime hung on the walls.
Elizabeth Colt sat behind a large desk.
The widow who had single-handedly propped up the Colt empire had a resolute gaze, devoid of any of the weakness typical of women in business.
Sitting in front of the desk was Miller, a senior agent sent by the Patriot Investment Company.
At the door, Davis, an agent from the Morgan Family, was being forcibly "escorted" out by Colt security.
The door closed.
Only Elizabeth and Miller remained in the office.
"Mr. Miller, I rejected that dirty money from the British because I knew it was a debt trap. They want to turn Colt into a political hatchet man in the Washington lobbying halls to oppose you all."
Elizabeth was blunt and to the point.
"A very wise choice, Mrs. Colt," Miller smiled and nodded.
"The British do not understand America's military industry. The Patriot Investment Company is willing to offer one million dollars in cash in exchange for a thirty percent stake in Colt. This will not only solve your capital chain problems but also allow Colt to regain its footing in this industry."
Elizabeth took a document from her drawer and placed it on the desk.
"One million for thirty percent is a fair price, but I have an additional condition."
Elizabeth stared at Miller.
"Colt's problem right now isn't a lack of money; it's that our machine tools are old. Our workers are still polishing gun barrels using manual workshop methods. Meanwhile, your sister company, Pioneer Military Industry, is already using the latest steam-powered milling machines and assembly lines, and I hear you're planning to use electrical equipment soon.
This is the real reason we lost to you in the Department of the Army's bidding process."
Elizabeth stated her bottom line.
"I can allow the Patriot Investment Company to invest. But I require you to act as a bridge, letting Pioneer Military Industry's engineering team enter Hartford to help Colt establish a full set of industrial production equipment and teach us their factory assembly line management experience."
The smile on Miller's face vanished, and he straightened his posture.
"Mrs. Colt, I'm sure you must be joking. Pioneer Military Industry's assembly line technology and management model are the Argyle Family's most core secrets. You want to take away the foundation of our standing in the military industry for a thirty percent stake?"
Miller shook his head.
"This is tantamount to us personally cultivating a competitor capable of defeating us in the future. Headquarters could never agree to that."
"If you don't agree, then there's no deal on the thirty percent stake," Elizabeth insisted, yielding not an inch.
"Winchester and Remington have already taken money from the British to buy equipment from Germany. If Colt cannot achieve a technological upgrade, a million dollars in cash is useless. I would rather sell the factory and lay off the workers than hold onto a brand that is slowly rotting away."
Miller fell silent.
He was merely an agent for the investment company and had no authority to mobilize Pioneer Military Industry's technical resources.
"I need to make a trip to the telegraph office, Mrs. Colt," Miller stood up.
"A sharing of this level must be decided by the New York headquarters."
"Please do, but I will only wait twenty-four hours."
Elizabeth made a gesture inviting him to leave.
New York, Empire Bank Building.
Hayes, holding the urgent telegram just sent from Hartford, walked quickly toward Felix's office.
Although he was the president of the investment company, matters involving internal cross-company synergy and core technology transfer had to be overseen by the boss.
Inside the office, Pioneer Military Industry's general manager, Frank Cole, was reporting on production progress.
Hayes knocked on the door, walked in, and placed the telegram directly on the desk.
"Boss, there's a situation in Hartford. Colt's widow is demanding that Pioneer Military Industry provide a technological upgrade and transfer of management experience as a condition for Patriot Investment to acquire a thirty percent stake."
Frank immediately jumped up.
"No, absolutely not! Our engineers spent two years getting the assembly line defect rate down. Why should we teach them for free? What is a thirty percent stake worth! Once they learn the technology, they'll turn around and go to the Pentagon to steal our orders!"
Hayes didn't speak; he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"This really can't be done this way," Felix tapped the table.
"Although my intention was to drain more of Old Morgan's funds, Winchester and Remington have now been taken over by the British. If we push Colt away, Old Morgan will have three hatchet men on the military industry front."
Hayes looked at Felix.
"So, Boss, I don't think we can let Colt fall to the British. Colt revolvers have an extremely high market share among the public in the West; it's a highly valuable brand. But we can't be suckers either."
Felix agreed; after all, if it could be acquired, it was better to acquire it.
"In that case, send a reply to your subordinate."
"Just tell Elizabeth Colt: a thirty percent stake won't get Pioneer Military Industry's technology. If she wants the technology, she can have it, but..."
"Patriot Investment Company will contribute eight hundred thousand and take a thirty percent stake."
"Pioneer Military Industry will invest via technology. We will not only send engineers over to build the assembly line but also be responsible for providing the highest quality gun barrel steel produced by Lex Steel. Valued at eight hundred thousand, for a thirty percent stake."
"The two companies will take a sixty percent controlling stake in Colt."
Frank Cole scratched his head.
"But Boss, doesn't that mean directly annexing Colt? Will that old woman agree?"
"She will agree."
Felix was very certain, because the other party had no other path to take.
"By the way, add one sentence to the telegram. Tell her that although the Colt family has lost absolute controlling interest, the Argyle Family will not interfere in daily operations. As long as she and the Colt family members have the ability to build the guns well and sell them, family members will still be the general managers of Colt, and the brand will still be called Colt."
"She is a smart person; she knows how to choose between bankruptcy and losing controlling interest."
...
When Miller returned to the office with this reply, which carried the nature of an absolute ultimatum.
Elizabeth looked at the sixty percent stake on the document.
Her hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.
"Mr. Miller, you are no better than them."
Elizabeth's voice trembled slightly.
Losing absolute controlling interest meant that the Colt family would lose the final say in the company.
"This is an equivalent exchange, Mrs. Colt."
Miller sat opposite her, his tone calm.
"The Argyle Family has shown the utmost sincerity by retaining the Colt name and your management rights. We do not bring destruction, but rebirth."
He said, handing over a fountain pen.
"Winchester and Remington have already become puppets for the British. If you don't sign, tomorrow, Pioneer Military Industry's breech-loading rifles will flood the entire market at an even lower price. The era of Colt will truly be over."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, her heart undergoing an intensely violent struggle.
After a long while...
She opened her eyes and sighed.
She took the pen and signed her name on the transfer agreement.
Thus.
The four fronts that Old Morgan had stirred up on the East Coast had fallen into a stalemate under Felix's domineering counterattack.
The British had spent a fortune buying a pile of messes that required long-term blood transfusions.
Meanwhile, the Argyle Family had not only successfully held their ground but had also completely brought the famous Colt brand under their wing.
But the smoke of war on the East Coast was not everything.
At the other end of this era.
A much larger harvest was slowly unfolding amidst the waves of the Pacific Ocean.
On the vast, deep blue surface of the Pacific Ocean, a massive steam-powered ironclad was cleaving through the waves.
Thick black smoke spewed from the massive smokestacks, and towering sails obscured half the sky.
The outer hull of the ship was encased in thick, riveted steel plates.
Waves crashed against the steel plates, shattering into countless white bubbles.
On the deck, several massive gun turrets stood like silent steel beasts, their barrels pointing straight toward the distant horizon where the sea met the sky.
This was one of the flagship merchant vessels of the Metropolitan Trading Company from a few years ago, "the pioneer."
The wind and waves on the deck were intense.
Witt O'Neill wore a heavy wool coat, his hands gripping the railing tightly.
His face had been pale for days, clearly worn out by the constant tossing of the sea over the past month.
As the newly appointed Asia regional manager of the Metropolitan Trading Company designated by Felix, he was personally escorting the first batch of arms and equipment to the Great Qing Empire.
"Damn this Pacific Ocean; these waves are enough to shake a man's guts out."
O'Neill turned his head and complained to Intendant Li, who was standing nearby and looking equally unwell.
Intendant Li was wrapped tightly in a windproof cloak.
Behind him, Interpreter Wang and Secretary Zhang were holding onto the cabin door, gasping for air.
"Mr. O'Neill."
Intendant Li fought back the churning in his stomach and asked loudly.
"We've been drifting at sea for over half a month. How much longer until we see the territory of the Great Qing?"
Interpreter Wang immediately translated his words.
"Soon, Mr. Li. I've asked the captain; according to the nautical charts, there are at most two days of sailing left. We will arrive at Dagu Fort in Tianjin. So, there is no need to be too anxious."
After saying this, O'Neill spat out a mouthful of salty sea spray.
He straightened his body, pointed to the behemoth beneath his feet, and began his most practiced commercial boasting.
To make the Great Qing Empire feel that this deal—worth 7.5 million dollars plus a ten-year customs mortgage—was worth more than its value, he had spared no effort in talking up the ship throughout the journey.
"Mr. Li, what do you think of this ship?"
O'Neill patted the railing.
"After this batch of machinery is unloaded, this ironclad will be the latest main battleship model that our Argyle Family intends to promote to the Beiyang Fleet of the Great Qing Empire."
O'Neill spoke with great enthusiasm.
"This ironclad you are standing on is a masterpiece launched just last year by our Metropolitan sibling company, the Atlantic Steam Power Company."
O'Neill pointed to the outer hull.
"Do you see that? That armor is all special steel specifically rolled for warships by Lex Steel. It is countless times harder than those thin-skinned iron ships the British sold you. Even if hit directly by a 12-inch artillery shell, it would absolutely not penetrate the core cabin!"
Intendant Li looked in the direction of O'Neills finger.
The riveted steel plates, glistening with a cold light, truly gave one a sense of indestructible security.
"Look... and the armament!"
O'Neill led Intendant Li toward the gun turrets at the front of the deck.
"Exclusively supplied by Pioneer Military Industry! Four breech-loading rifled guns; their rate of fire is three times that of muzzle-loading guns. On both sides of the ship, eight water-cooled gatling guns are hidden. As long as any enemy wooden boats dare to approach, one round of machine gun fire will turn them into sieves."
O'Neill gave a thumbs up and continued to boast, as if trying to brainwash Intendant Li.
"Mr. Li, I dare to swear to you by God. This ironclad is absolutely the most first-class design in the world right now. As long as the Great Qing Empire buys it, in these Far East waters, whether it's the Japanese's broken ships or those pirates, they are a joke in front of it. Its attack capability is truly invincible!"
Interpreter Wang vividly translated O'Neills words for Intendant Li.
A flash of excitement shone in Intendant Li's eyes as he reached out to touch the cold gun barrel.
The Great Qing Empire was in such dire need of this kind of national strategic weapon.
If they had an ironclad like this, the backbone of the navy would be able to straighten up.
Perhaps those humiliating treaties would no longer need to be signed.
"Good! Good! Good!"
Intendant Li said the word "good" three times in a row.
"Mr. O'Neill, as long as this batch of machinery lands in Tianjin, once I return to the capital to report, I will definitely strongly recommend the Metropolitan Trading Company to the imperial court. We shall continue to discuss this ship purchase order!"
O'Neill nodded with a beaming smile.
But when he turned his head to look at the sea, he laughed inwardly.
"World-class? Invincible?"
O'Neill mocked his own bragging in his heart.
This "the pioneer" was indeed not bad; the steel and artillery were top-notch.
However, shipbuilding is a systematic project that requires decades or even centuries of heritage.
From its founding until now, the Atlantic Steam Power Company had only existed for seven or eight years at most.
They still had many flaws in the layout of the steam engine compartments and the design of the hull waterline.
If they really took it to the Atlantic Ocean to go one-on-one with a main ironclad of the Royal Navy produced by the British Empire's Glasgow Shipyard, it would definitely be at a disadvantage in terms of both speed and maneuverability.
"Anyway, the people of the Qing Empire don't understand shipbuilding; they only look at artillery caliber and steel plate thickness."
O'Neill felt no psychological pressure.
In this vast land of the Far East with no technical standards, if he said it was the best in the world, then it was the best in the world.
As long as he could sign the contract and ship the silver and gold back to New York, he didn't care whether this ship could beat the British.
It wasn't like the Great Qing would actually fight a naval war against the world-leading British Empire, right?
The sea breeze gradually calmed down a bit.
The afternoon sun pierced through the clouds and sprinkled onto the sea surface.
Suddenly.
"Land! Land!"
High up in the mast's observation tower, a sailor excitedly pointed to the horizon directly ahead and shouted loudly.
Everyone on the deck looked in the direction of the sailor's finger.
At the end where the sea met the sky, a gray, continuous coastline was looming in the sea mist.
That was the outline of the Dagu Fort.
The Great Qing Empire.
This ancient, yet decaying empire had finally appeared in the vision of the American merchant.
Intendant Li looked at that familiar coastline. He took a deep breath. After several months, he had finally returned with the foreign devils' machinery and hope.
O'Neill walked to the bow of the ship.
He took off his hat, facing the blowing sea breeze.
This land with a population of four hundred million.
This virgin land where even the air was permeated with cheap labor and undeveloped resources.
The distribution network of the Metropolitan Trading Company, the loan ledgers of the Imperial Bank, the Western medicine of Umbrella.
Everything would start from here.
"Finally arrived..."
O'Neill looked at that coastline, his eyes filled with a longing for wealth.