27. Mulapadong.

Muning approached Mulla, who was being looked at with regret.

 

 

“What did you just do?”

 

 

Did he perhaps discover a method?

Even though the bullet flipped over in the middle, it still went straight for a while, didn’t it?

 

“I’ve come up with a way to put a consistent spin on the bullet.”

“R-really?”

“No way!”

“That’s impossible!”

 

The researchers, including Muning, wore disbelieving expressions.

Or, to be precise, their expressions were half ‘expectation’ and half ‘doubt’.

Not completely disbelieving, but not exactly convinced either, just hopeful.

 

 

It was even more so because Mulla had a history.

 

 

“I was reminded of it after listening to the person who went to farm earlier. If you want to put a spin on the bullet, you dig a spiral path so it can spin, and create ridges so it can rotate along that path. To do that, you shouldn’t make the bullet round, but rather elongated.

Anyway, if you carve those ridges and grooves, the ridges will catch on the grooves as the bullet is fired, and it will naturally spin along the carved path.

The good thing about this principle is that you can always get a consistent spin. Of course, that’s assuming the amount of gunpowder is the same.”

“Wow….”

 

 

Muning nodded.

 

 

“If you do that, it definitely seems possible! Grooves! Mulla is a genius!!”

“No… well….”

 

Just like when he came up with the idea of rotation, it felt a bit awkward to be praised for an inspiration that came to him by chance.

 

“But even when you fired it just now, it didn’t hit the target, did it? Didn’t it fly off somewhere strange?”

 

 

When a woman raised a question, Muning belatedly nodded.

Certainly, the previous firing was also a failure.

 

 

“It’s certain that the spin stabilizes the trajectory. But the problem is the degree of it. The spin was weak just now. It went straight until the middle, but after that, it couldn’t overcome the resistance and flipped over.”

“Hmm… spin….”

“I think it would be a problem if it’s too fast, too. Finding the right spin rate is important….”

“To do that, the force of the firing must also be constant.”

“Yes.”

 

Muning fell into thought, going ‘Euum~’.

 

 

Finding the right spin would take a considerable amount of time, but the problem was how to propel the bullet with a constant force.

 

 

Currently, the method of firing bullets, whether from guns or cannons, is to take out an ‘appropriate amount’ of gunpowder, ignite it, and send it off with that force.

 

 

However, this method inevitably results in inconsistent force due to human estimation, and therefore, a consistent spin cannot be achieved.

 

In the end, even if spin is imparted by creating grooves and ridges, if the force applied is different, the spin rate will vary, resulting in haphazard shooting.

 

 

A consistent spin rate was essential for accurate hit rates.

 

 

“Hoo….”

 

 

Muning sighed.

It wasn’t easily solved after all.

After crossing this mountain, there’s that mountain,

And after crossing that mountain, there’s yet another mountain.

 

 

 

“Um… using it as it is… would be impossible, right?”

 

One disciple said that, but scratched his head, perhaps feeling awkward, and went ‘Haha’.

It seemed like she said it because she was so frustrated.

 

 

“No way. In this world where magic runs rampant and master archers are everywhere, no one will use a weapon that can’t even hit a target 50 steps away. We have to improve both accuracy and range. For both guns and cannons!”

 

Muning’s eyes flared up once again.

Only by improving this can he be recognized.

He can suppress those rotten noble bitches with their dead fish eyes.

 

 

“But firing with a constant force… it’s not like a crossbow, it’ll be difficult.”

“That’s right. A person is firing it, after all.”

“People have to scoop out the gunpowder each time, and it’s impossible to scoop it out without even a slight error.”

“I don’t think it’s a problem that can be solved with technology.”

 

 

The disciples complained, but Muning didn’t think so.

 

 

It must be possible.

There must be a way.

 

 

“No. It’s possible. If we can’t even make this, then objects flying without mana will be impossible, so it must be possible.”

“That’s….”

 

The disciples wore dumbfounded expressions.

 

How on earth can they obtain a uniform force?

 

 

“Um… I don’t think the amount of gunpowder has to be exactly the same.”

“Yes?”

 

Mulla stepped forward.

 

 

“A slight error would be fine. The problem is that the amount of gunpowder people put in will vary because everyone’s perception is different when explaining it verbally.”

“In that case, wouldn’t it be possible to create and distribute spoons of a fixed size?”

“Come to think of it, it seems like it would be very cumbersome to scoop with a spoon every time in the middle of a fight.”

“You’re right… if it were me, I’d just… use a bow… Hick! Sorry.”

“….”

 

 

As dismal words were exchanged, Muning’s mood sank involuntarily.

That damn bow was truly his mortal enemy.

 

 

But he had to admit what he had to admit.

 

‘That’s right. In the first place, the reload time takes too long. Firing two shots per minute is considered fast. Besides, both the range and accuracy are incomparable to a bow… if it were me….’

 

 

Despair washed over him once again.

How much despair will he have to experience before the development is complete?

 

 

 

 

 

“Let’s make bullets and gunpowder as a set.”

 

Mulla muttered casually.

 

 

“…Yes?”

“We make bullets and gunpowder as a set. Then we only need to supply the bullets.”

“H-how can you do that? What if it explodes? No, it’ll definitely, 100% explode from the impact when firing.”

“Hmm… would it?”

“Yes. Gunpowder explodes when it receives a big impact, so if you put gunpowder in a bullet, there will definitely be an accident.”

“Hmm….”

 

 

Mulla seemed to only have the idea and no clear blueprint, so he was deep in thought.

 

 

 

 

“Um, let’s try to find the spin rate first for now. Even if we have to use spoons.”

“Yes, Master. Let’s try what we can do for now. I want to go home early.”

“R-really?”

 

Right.

It’s something to have obtained even the spin.

 

 

Muning comforted himself and assigned tasks to each researcher, and then he himself immersed himself in research.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I have come.”

“….”

“….”

“….”

 

 

The women showed a lukewarm reaction.

Usually, one would be flustered by this kind of reaction.

Surprisingly, the woman in question strode over and sat next to Aran.

 

 

“Why did you come?”

 

Iliana looked at her with wary eyes.

 

 

“Don’t look at me like that. I abdicated, so shouldn’t I enjoy my remaining years?”

“Hmph… just rest in your room.”

 

Iliana was strangely snappish.

 

She was saying that because she was worried in her own way.

She was the one who had collapsed spectacularly a while ago, and even abdicated early due to health problems, wasn’t she?

It was natural to be worried.

 

 

“Heh heh. Why? Are you afraid of having your husband stolen?”

“Who’s having what stolen? Mother is a concubine. I’m the first wife.”

“Hmph. A human’s nobility doesn’t change just because their status changes.”

“Don’t spout sophistry.”

 

 

Cornelia responded to her words and even picked up food to eat, showing her composure.

Does life become more relaxed when you’re around 50 years old?

 

 

‘No. This person is just not normal.’

 

Aran immediately answered himself.

Cornelia is just not normal.

No,

 

The Persian imperial family itself is not normal.

Furthermore, the Mei Empire’s imperial family is not normal either.

 

‘Let’s lead them well, as a normal person.’

 

 

As a bonus, he wasn’t normal either.

 

 

 

“I was surprised. Your Majesty… no, what should I call you? M-Mother-in-law? Anyway, I really didn’t expect you to come like this….”

 

Theodora’s surprised eyes represented the feelings of all the women except Iliana and Cornelia.

 

“Just call me Cornelia.”

“U-Unni, even so, how can you….”

“It’s okay. She’s fundamentally soft. I allow it.”

“Why are you doing things without my permission? You stupid daughter.”

“Mother also came without my permission.”

“Hmph. This is why they say there’s no point in raising daughters.”

“Now, now, don’t fight and let’s eat first.”

 

 

Aran threw out those words and stabbed a thick steak with his fork.

 

 

“Looks like you can eat just fine. You perverted beast. Graverobber.”

“…What’s with the graverobber?”

“You stole me, so you’re a graverobber.”

“….”

 

 

Aran ignored her and started cutting the steak.

 

 

“Uwaa! Why are you ignoring me!”

“It’s just that your words are so obvious that I couldn’t find anything to say in response.”

“R-really? Hmph… you know it well.”

 

 

Moe blushed, as if she was happy and not happy at the same time.

Cornelia looked back and forth between her and Aran.

 

 

“You’ve become quite the sly fox while I haven’t seen you.”

“Mother will become like this if you live with Moe-ssi.”

“What, what does that mean?”

“It means that I am so moved by your beauty that respect for you naturally becomes ingrained in me.”

“…I’m somehow displeased. It feels like there’s a strange meaning hidden in it.”

“No. It’s just your imagination.”