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Six months later, on the outskirts of Paris, a picturesque landscape unfolded before Napoleon's eyes as he disembarked from the elegant carriage. The serene countryside was adorned with vibrant hues of emerald green, gently swaying under the caress of a warm breeze. The scent of wildflowers mingled with the crisp, clean air, creating an intoxicating symphony of fragrances that enveloped him.
With a curious tilt of his head, Napoleon gazed upward, his sharp eyes tracing the graceful arcs of black smoke as they billowed from the towering smokestack of the factory. The contrast between the natural beauty surrounding him and the industrial might encapsulated within those brick walls struck him profoundly.
In the span of just six months, a whirlwind of progress had transformed the landscape. From the acquisition of raw materials to the meticulous selection of skilled laborers, the factory had rapidly burgeoned into a relentless bastion of innovation. Its very heartbeat resounded in the air, a symphony of gears, whirring machinery, and the ceaseless hum of progress.
As Napoleon took his first steps forward, he extended a hand, warmly acknowledging the toiling workers he passed. Their sweat-soaked brows and calloused hands bore testament to their unwavering dedication and the weight of their collective purpose.
As he crossed the threshold into the factory, a mesmerizing chaos engulfed his senses. The rhythmic clang of metal against metal reverberated through the cavernous space, interwoven with the hiss of steam and the piercing screech of grinding gears. A symphony of industry, played by countless hands and engineered by tireless minds, echoed off the sturdy brick walls.
We draw closer," Napoleon murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the bustling activity of the factory. With a final sweep of his gaze, he took in the sight of gleaming machinery and the diligent workers immersed in their tasks. But before he could fully immerse himself in the scene, a gentle tap on his shoulder disrupted his thoughts.
Startled, Napoleon turned, his eyes widening as he beheld the unexpected sight before him. A delicate finger, adorned with a touch of mischief, pressed playfully against his cheek.
"Ciela?"
"Good afternoon, Master~!" she chimed, her voice carrying the melody of genuine affection. "How was your exam?"
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtNapoleon grabbed Ciela's finger, gently moving it away from his cheek.
"Well, as always, I aced it," Napoleon replied proudly. "Anyways, how are things going?"
"Hmm…" Ciela examined the file in her hands, meticulously scanning its contents. "Today the engineers were able to fabricate the flywheel, wheels, and axles. They are now working on the Steam boiler, which according to them, would take three weeks," Ciela reported.
"Good," Napoleon nodded in satisfaction as he started walking, heading towards the section where they are fabricating steel and wrought iron.
Six months had elapsed since Napoleon embarked on the ambitious project, and during this period, Ciela had emerged as a pivotal figure in its management, exceeding all expectations placed upon her. As Napoleon's academic pursuits demanded his attention, he regrettably found himself unable to devote the level of involvement he had originally envisioned for the project's development.
However, a glimmer of hope lay on the horizon. In just two months' time, Napoleon would be graduating from Chateau de Brienne, finally freeing up his schedule to realign his complete focus on the project. Although it would only be a brief respite before he embarked on further studies at the university, where he aspired to pursue a military career, Napoleon was determined to make the most of this window of opportunity.
As he was engrossed in his thoughts, the heat from the furnace greeted him like a warm embrace. The section where the fabrication of steel and wrought iron took place came into view, its glowing embers and dancing flames casting an otherworldly glow on the surrounding workspace.
He recognized it immediately; it was the Bessemer converter. Its pearl-shaped structure stood tall and proud.
Ciela looked up at the pearl-shaped structure as well and spoke.
"That converter that you invented, Master, impressed a lot of steelmakers across the nation. Its ability to be able to produce five tons of steel in a single batch has gathered a lot of attention. And they are wanting to have one in their factory."
"Really? Well, tell them they'll have to pay a price for that," Napoleon chuckled. The Bessemer converter that he introduced in this world is just a step for speeding up industrialization in France.
He intended to let others use the design of the Bessemer converter, as it would significantly contribute to the development of France, a country that he envisioned ruling in the future. Of course, doing such a thing would make other countries envious and take drastic measures such as copying the design. Therefore, he would only agree on sharing the design by signing a non-disclosure agreement and charging a licensing fee. This way, he could protect the interests of France while also fostering progress and industrial growth.
"Do you mean it, Master?" Ciela asked, looking at him expectantly.
"Of course, Ciela. There's money in licensing our technologies, and it will help fund my future research and development."
"Understood master. Should I set up a meeting with them?"
"Do it," Napoleon permitted and resumed walking. Ciela trailed behind him while writing a note on a notepad.
Moments later, Napoleon stopped in his tracks as his attention was attracted by where workpieces are forged and shaped. It wasn't the man themselves that charmed his gaze but the machine that they are using, a steam-powered lathe, shaper, and milling machine.
Napoleon approached the machine, his eyes fixed on the interplay of gears and belts, fascinated by the seamless coordination that brought the machine to life. The precision with which it operated promised a level of accuracy and productivity that would revolutionize the manufacturing process.
It was quite different from the lathe he had operated on in his previous world, where the machining tools are powered by electric motors and computerized systems. This steam-powered machine had an old-world charm to it, harking back to a time when ingenuity and craftsmanship were the driving forces behind industrial progress.
Electric-powered machining equipment is not that far away. After all, the concept of electricity has been introduced in the late eighteenth century by Benjamin Franklin,
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmwho conducted his famous experiments with lightning and discovered the concept of electrical charge.
There is also Alessandro Volta, an Italian physicist and pioneer of electrical science. Volta is known for inventing the first electrical battery, known as the Voltaic pile, which provided a reliable source of continuous electric current.
He wondered if he could invite him to France in the future and offer him a position where he'd help him advance this world's understanding of electricity.
As he was lost in his thoughts again, Ciela gently poked him in the arm.
"Master…there are also people wanting to get their hands on this steam-powered machining equipment," Ciela said, interrupting Napoleon's reverie.
Napoleon turned to face Ciela, a spark of curiosity igniting in his eyes. "Is that so? Tell me more," he replied, eager to hear the details.
Ciela adjusted her glasses and opened the file she held, quickly scanning its contents before speaking. "Several industrialists from different regions have expressed interest in acquiring these steam-powered machines. They have witnessed the efficiency and precision with which they operate, and they believe it could revolutionize their manufacturing processes as well."
Napoleon nodded thoughtfully. The potential demand for steam-powered machinery indicated the appetite for industrial progress and growth among entrepreneurs and manufacturers. He saw an opportunity not only to meet their demands but also to further his ambitions of transforming France into a formidable industrial power.
"Set up a meeting with these industrialists as well," Napoleon instructed. "Earning copious amounts of money while working on the project is the best thing that could have happened in our life."
Ciela scribbled down the instructions in her notepad, a smile playing on her lips. "Consider it done, Master. I will reach out to them and arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience."
"Good, for the meantime, let's focus on the task at hand. We have five months before the deadline, I don't want any screw-ups or delays," Napoleon stated firmly, his determination evident in his voice.