At this time, mortars were already in use. The Germans had developed a large-caliber, short-barreled mortar that could arc shells into Allied trenches. Although it resembled a mortar, conceptually it was quite different. It was actually a curved-trajectory artillery piece that used a trigger and required a propellant charge. Rear-loaded and heavy, it was essentially a stationary gun emplacement—difficult to maneuver.
In contrast, Charles's design was for a true mortar: the British Stokes mortar, invented in 1915. Charles knew that Steed hadn't fully grasped the significance of the mortar concept—it wasn't as simple as Steed imagined. But that didn't matter; Charles didn't need to explain every detail.
"We'll need to keep its weight under 50 kilograms," Charles explained briefly. "During battle, two men should be able to carry it. On the march, it can be disassembled into three parts, each carried by a soldier."
He looked at Steed. "Your factory should be able to produce this, right?"
"Absolutely!" Steed replied eagerly, nodding. "It won't take long to manufacture!"
Steed was being honest; with ready-made blueprints and a straightforward design, especially one that didn't even require a trigger mechanism—just a firing pin at the base of the tube—production would be simple. If Saint-Étienne couldn't handle this, they wouldn't be worthy of partnering with Charles.
"So, you agree to produce this mortar?" Charles asked.
"Absolutely!" Steed nodded meaningfully and leaned forward, extending his hand. "I'm more than happy to take this on. I'll get it into production as quickly as possible."
"Excellent!" Charles replied. "I'll work on convincing the military to place an order. We're looking at a potential purchase of several thousand units."
The two shared a satisfied smile.
After leaving the Ritz, Deyoka suddenly pulled over as if remembering something. He turned to Charles and said, "We forgot something, Charles—you didn't give Mr. Steed an answer!"
"An answer to what?" Charles asked. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ NovᴇlFɪre.ɴet
"His first request," Deyoka reminded him. "I believe he was hoping for a commitment from us—a promise to work with him long-term."
"No, Father," Charles replied softly. "I already gave him an answer."
"Did you…?" Deyoka was puzzled, momentarily unsure. He had thought he'd missed something, but upon reflection, he was certain Charles hadn't given a direct response.
Back at the hotel, Steed's butler, Lucas, was asking the same question.
"Sir," Lucas said with concern, "it seems Charles deliberately avoided your question. Perhaps he has no intention of a long-term partnership with us. Should we start considering other options?"
Still absorbed in studying the mortar blueprints, Steed chuckled and waved the papers lightly. "No, Lucas, Charles gave me an even better answer."
"This?" Lucas asked, confused. "Another invention? What does that prove?"
Lucas worried that Steed, in his eagerness to work with Charles, was being too dazzled by this new invention to consider the larger issue.
Steed smiled and shook his head. "You think this is just an invention? No, Lucas. This is the foundation of our alliance with Charles."
"Our alliance?" Lucas looked at him, bewildered.
Steed nodded and explained with a knowing smile, "I was worried Charles might ally with other capitalists, just as Charles is cautious that I might team up with them. There's only one way for us to truly work together and trust each other. Do you know what that is?"
Lucas still looked perplexed, but when his gaze returned to the mortar blueprint, it suddenly dawned on him. "Producing artillery… a declaration of competition with Schneider?"
Steed chuckled. "It's not quite a declaration, as this mortar isn't yet in direct competition with Schneider. But it does show our stance. Think about it—if we produce artillery in partnership with Charles, how do you think others will perceive it?"
Lucas's face lit up with realization. "It signals that we're standing with Charles against Schneider!"
"Exactly!" Steed rose from his chair, smiling confidently, standing taller than before. "Saint-Étienne used to be like a sickly old man, but with Charles, we can finally match Schneider's strength. Wait for us, James!"
Lucas couldn't help but notice the transformation in Steed. He seemed rejuvenated, filled with a new sense of purpose.
The next day, at the Paris City Defense Headquarters, Charles arrived half an hour later than usual. It wasn't by choice—the zealous citizens of Paris had somehow discovered that he usually arrived early, and they'd gathered on the street to greet him. To avoid the crowd, Charles had no choice but to delay his arrival and spread the word that he was already inside. Only then did the crowd disperse in disappointment.
Charles couldn't help but think that if the French people truly admired him, they should contribute a small donation to him every day. Even a centime from each citizen would allow him to live comfortably.
As he entered headquarters, he went straight to Gallieni. "General, I need a unit."
"What for?" Gallieni teased, "To break through the crowd of Parisian admirers surrounding you?"
The officers nearby laughed and chimed in:
"Be grateful, Charles. None of us have that many fans!"
"Hey, Lucchini, if Charles weren't working here, wouldn't you be one of his admirers?"
"Of course! I'm Charles's number one fan!" Lucchini replied.
Charles ignored them and handed Gallieni the mortar blueprint. "I need a unit to prevent the same training issues we had with the grenades."
Gallieni examined the blueprint, intrigued. "How about using Browni's unit? They're in training right now…"
"No!" Charles interrupted. "This is equipment intended for all frontline soldiers. If we use Browni's unit, we'll run into the same problem we had with the grenades."
Gallieni understood immediately. If they trained Browni's unit, the soldiers would have to go back to the front lines to teach others, which was impractical for a tank division.
After a moment of thought, Gallieni nodded. "I think what you need isn't a regular unit, Lieutenant. You need an officers' unit."
"I'll assign two officers from each division to report to you. You can train them, and they'll return to their divisions to instruct others."
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