C23 The Art Of War Trickery Steel And Fire

Once again, silence settled in the room.

The only sound was the distant ticking of the massive grandfather clock, its hands creeping ever closer to the future I was carving out of blood and iron.

I took a slow drag from my cigar, exhaling the smoke in thin, controlled streams before speaking again.

"Next order of business..."

I paused, letting the tension stretch, letting them hang on my every word.

"Commandeering all civilian trains."

A few of the ministers stiffened, but no one dared to speak. I continued.

"Every locomotive, every freight car, every railway station, it now belongs to the state. The railways are the veins of the Imperium, and I will not have them clogged by private interests."

The Minister of Transport, a balding man with a pencil thin mustache, gulped, but nodded quickly.

"Understood, Imperator,"

He said, already scribbling furiously onto his parchment. I nodded in satisfaction.

"Second, we begin constructing factories. Not just one or two, entire industrial zones dedicated to mass production."

The Minister of Industry spoke up cautiously.

"Imperator… our current economic infrastructure is stretched thin. The resources needed to construct such an expansion of industry..."

I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"Resources will not be an issue, youd be surprised at how much wealth cerberus had collected form the Imperiums traitors"

The minister of Industry blinked, confused, but did not argue. He had learned by now that questioning my decisions rarely ended well.

"Third,"

I continued

"The military industry will begin mass production immediately."

I leaned forward, locking eyes with the Minister of War, a hardened veteran with more scars than fingers.

"Infantry equipment, support gear, transport trucks, anti tank cannons, anti air batteries, transport planes, all of it."

The ministers of war expression remained stoic, but I saw the flicker of interest in his eyes.

"What the time table Imperator and who are you going to attack first?"

He said, more of a statement than a question. I exhaled smoke, my crimson gaze narrowing.

"Teutonica Ducatum 2 month tops,"

I answered, hearing this the minister of war grunted in approval, but the other ministers exchanged uneasy glances, afterall I just straight out admitted I was preparing for war.

"Also reserve some military factories and fully commit our dockyards for special manufacturing projects,"

I added, before reaching into my desk drawer. A heavy stack of blueprints hit the table with a loud thud. The Ministers flinched.

"Have a look."

Minister of Industry hesitated before standing up, adjusting his glasses as he carefully lifted the top stack of documents.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the faint rustling of paper as he studied them. Then. A sharp intake of breath.

"Where did you get these, Imperator?"

His voice was barely above a whisper. I smirked, tilting my head slightly.

"I wrote them myself"

Aka the system which almost made me hit 2 percent In the ERC department.

The minister thinking that I was bousting which I was didn't answer immediately.

Instead, his hands moved faster, flipping through the pages, his eyes widening with every line of engineering notes. The other ministers leaned in, craning their necks, their curiosity getting the best of them.

"This… this is a submarine design,"

The minister of Industry finally murmured, his voice filled with awe and disbelief.

He turned the 1944 year submarine blueprint blueprint slightly, studying the intricate hull schematics, pressure systems, and propulsion mechanics.

"This is unlike any design Ihave ever seen…"

He muttered under his breath. While the minister of Air Force squinted at another stack of designs.

"Self sealing fuel tanks? 30mm twin prop, 20 mm single cannon? Armored pilot seats? Two propeller engines? This Isnt a fighter anymore Its a flying tank!"

The minister of Air Force exclaimed and rightly so after all even the Hellenum Dominion was still using open cockpit biplanes armed with two 7.62 mm machine guns so the design he was seeing was truly and overkill a single well placed shot of 20 mm shell was enough to tear the biplane Into shreds.

His finger traced the blueprints as If It was his lover, as if trying to comprehend the impossible advancements before him.

"And this…!"

The minsiter of Industry choked slightly, his fingers tightening around another stack of pages. His voice cracked as he recognized the layout.

"These are… conversion designs for the Panzer II light tanks used by the Gunderian Empire!"

I watched with amusement as the room fell into stunned silence.

"Three-seater turret? Improved small cannon? Radio integration? Sloped armor, wet ammunition storage, a heavy machine gun, gasoline engine, welded armor and christie suspension?!"

The Minister of War gaped at the tank schematics.

"This isn't just an upgrade. This is a complete transformation of an outdated model into a modern killing machine!"

His gaze snapped to me.

"But we don't have any Panzer II tanks, Imperator!"

All the ministers were now staring at me. Waiting. I grinned.

"Well Im obviously going to the Gunderian Empire ambasador and pleading poverty"

I said, tapping a single finger against the desk. The Ministers of Foreign Affairs and War looked like they had just swallowed a bucket of nails.

"You're..."

The Foreign Minister choked.

"You're planning to ask them for their own tanks?!"

I laughed, standing up, exhaling another wisp of cigar smoke.

"Not ask."

I stepped forward, looming over them.

"Plead Poverty"

The room exploded.

"WHAT?!"

"IMPERATOR, THAT'S INSANE!"

"They hate us! They see us as an inferior not to mention that to them were heretics!"

"Why the f*ck would they give us weapons?!"

I waited. Letting them shout, let them panic.

"OI shut It, you f*cks are too loud"

I barked while scratching my ear with my pinky. As I did the room fell silent. They stared at me, chests rising and falling with labored breaths. And I spoke.

"Its rather simple for one they think were weak which Is true as f*ck I mean all theyd have to do Is send their single armored division to wipe the floor with us, as for second part why they are going to give us panzers..."

I let the words sink in.

"Im gona promise them to give back our dockyard province which I conquered from them centuries ago and Ill also promise them to help them fight the polarian empire"

I smirked.

"Of course thats all a lie"

I added only to see my ministers look at me with open mouths and bulging eyes because they couldnt bellieve at how thick my skin was and how shameless I was.

Minister of Industry was still gripping the tank conversion plans as if they were some d*vine scripture, his brows furrowed deeply in confusion and disbelief.

Meanwhile, the Minister of War had leaned forward, inspecting a separate stack of documents, his scarred fingers tracing the lines of another unknown schematic.

"What in the g*d's name is this?"

He muttered, flipping to the next page, his eyes narrowing. I smirked.

"That my dear minister of war"

I said, exhaling a slow wisp of cigar smoke.

"Is the future of modern infantry combat."

The minister of war snorted, unimpressed.

"It just looks like a heavier submachine gun. Extended barrel, a slightly longer magazine, but still, the same concept as any standard issue firearm."

Hearing this I chuckled darkly.

"Does it now?"

I leaned forward, tapping my index finger against the blueprint.

"Tell me, Minister, how far can a submachine gun effectively engage targets?"

The minister frowned, thinking for a moment.

"Fifty, maybe sixty meters at best,"

He admitted as he did I nodded.

"Now imagine a weapon that is as compact as a submachine gun but can hit accurately up to 400 meters."

The room fell silent. The minister of war stared at the blueprint, then at me, his expression darkening.

"That's impossible."

"Not anymore,"

I shot back.

"Unlike a submachine gun, this rifle fires a full 6.8 mm powered cartridge, not a pistol round. It's gas operated, meaning less recoil, higher durability, and unlike your precious bolt action rifles, you don't need to reload after every shot."

The ministers grip on the blueprint tightened.

"And the rate of fire?"

He asked cautiously.

"650 rounds per minute,"

I said, my smirk widening.

The Minister of War blinked. Then again. The other ministers leaned in, sensing the shift in his expression.

"Imperator… you're telling me this thing fires rifle-caliber rounds… at that speed?"

I nodded.

"With a magazine capacity of thirty rounds."

Hearing this the minister of Industry Inhaled sharply.

"…That would make every soldier equipped with one just as deadly as an entire fireteam."

I leaned back in my chair, tapping ash from my cigar.

"That's the idea."

The minister of war let out a low whistle, turning the blueprint over, examining every component.

"This… This will revolutionize warfare,"

He admitted.

"Our infantry would have overwhelming firepower advantage in every engagement."

I grinned.

"Which is why we'll be mass producing them."

"Wait, wait, wait,"