Chapter 386: Sunset Industry

Cecilia stood before Morin, her grayish-blue eyes sweeping up and down, scrutinizing him thoroughly.

The anxiety that had hung over her heart due to his delayed return finally settled.

For a long time previously, Morin had seemed to vanish from the face of the earth, with only sporadic military bulletins trickling back.

Even with her immense influence and wealth, it was difficult to glean specific details from the frontlines while the war machine operated at full capacity.

Although subsequent official news and reason told her that someone with Morin’s capabilities should be fine, as a woman whose heart was tied to this man, worry was an unavoidable instinct.

She had expected that after struggling in that cruel meat grinder for so long, Morin would become gaunt, haggard, and perhaps even exude a hostile aura.

Yet, the man before her presented a massive… surprise?

Morin had taken off his heavy field coat and was wearing only the field officer’s service uniform she had custom-made for him.

However, the fabric, which should have fit perfectly, was now stretched taut by the bulging muscle lines beneath. The broad shoulders and thick chest, in particular, conveyed the dormant, explosive power of a fierce beast.

How was this gaunt? He had clearly evolved from a cheetah into a tiger.

Cecilia’s eyes rippled slightly, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile that only Morin understood.

Under her gaze, Morin felt a chill crawl up his spine, while his mouth suddenly went dry.

Cecilia was wearing a deep purple velvet lounging gown. The neckline was cut just right—not frivolous, yet from Morin’s close vantage point, it revealed a glimpse of snow-white skin that left much to the imagination.

“Ahem…”

Morin coughed dryly, forcefully suppressing the urge to pull her into a passionate kiss and carry her upstairs immediately.

He knew it wasn’t the right time. There were two pairs of eyes watching—one pair belonged to Helga, wide and somewhat naive, and the other to Patricia, her blue eyes filled with scrutiny.

Besides, acting too eager now would somewhat ruin the warm atmosphere of their reunion.

Taking a deep breath, Morin cleared his mind of silk nightgowns and indescribable scenes, forcing himself to look like a proper Imperial officer.

“Alright, let’s not just stand here.”

Morin led Cecilia back to the sofa and unceremoniously threw himself onto the longest main sofa.

As his body sank into the backrest, the long-absent feeling of being enveloped elicited a sigh of comfort.

Compared to the camp beds on the front lines or the iron-framed beds in the Imperial Military Medical Center, this was simply paradise.

Rolling in muddy, smoke-filled trenches and darting left and right in the cockpit of an Armored Knight offered an intoxicating rush of adrenaline, but it also kept one’s nerves perpetually taut.

Returning here, to this tender haven filled with the faint scent of black tea and feminine softness, was the best way to loosen that tightly wound string.

This was probably what “balancing work and rest” truly meant.

Cecilia naturally sat beside him and elegantly lifted the teapot. The amber-colored black tea swirled in the cups, emitting tendrils of steam.

“Try some. This is the remaining Ceylon black tea. It’s contraband now, so once our collection runs out, it’ll be very hard to come by~”

Morin took the teacup. Without bothering with tea-tasting etiquette, he tilted his head back and took a large gulp.

The warm liquid slid down his throat, and the rich flavor of black tea filled his mouth.

Simultaneously, he silently scorned the Britannians’ monopoly on the black tea trade.

During his time undergoing tests at the Imperial Military Medical Center, Morin had asked the staff to bring him numerous historical materials. Through indirect questioning of Master Haber and others, he had triggered substantial updates in his system’s [Information] and [Intelligence] tabs.

This helped him understand that the old European empires in this world had similarly extended their reach into Asia and fought fiercely over it.

Tea, cotton, rubber, and rare minerals were precisely what they plundered from the Asian region.

The only thing that left Morin regretful was that the country he longed for remained shrouded in fog in all the historical records.

The last entries stopped at 1620 AD.

After that, the vast landmass had fallen under some suddenly activated ‘Myththal’ (magical barrier), rendering it undetectable. Various nations had organized expeditions to enter the world veiled in dense fog, only to inexplicably find themselves back where they started.

After nearly two centuries of futile attempts, the European empires gave up and turned to colonizing other parts of Asia, engaging in “sustainable exploitation.”

This outcome was somewhat regrettable. For Morin, perhaps the only good news was that this world would never see a Qing Dynasty that paid out so much silver in reparations…

Helga and Patricia had also retaken their seats.

Helga clearly hadn’t recovered from her initial excitement. She stared fixedly at Morin, as if ready to drag him to her workshop to draw blueprints the very next second.

“Boss, how long are you staying this time?”

After a brief silence, Helga finally couldn’t help asking, “After finishing the semi-automatic rifle design, I’ve had some new ideas recently. I think rifles can be capable of fully automatic, continuous fire just like submachine guns! But I’m stuck on a few points, especially concerning the recoil spring…”

“Stop, stop, stop!”

Before Morin could answer, Patricia cut in.

The blonde heiress had regained her usual haughty demeanor, though her slightly flushed ears still betrayed her earlier panic.

“Helga, it is rest time now!”

Patricia glared at Helga with exasperation.

“Morin just got back and hasn’t even finished a cup of tea, and you can’t wait to discuss technical matters with him. That is not what a proper… er, lady should do!”

“Oh…” Helga shrank back, muttering defensively, “But the boss said before that time is money.”

Watching this, Morin couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“It’s alright, Helga… I’ll be staying home for a few extra days this time, so we can talk about technical matters tomorrow~”

He then turned to Patricia. Her gaze was somewhat evasive, sneaking glances at him and quickly looking away, her cheeks tinged with pink.

“By the way, Sister Cecilia.” Morin set down his teacup and looked curiously at Patricia. “I wanted to ask earlier, why is Miss Seeckt…”

Although he had a rough guess, he wanted to hear the specific reason.

After all, the eldest daughter of the Seeckt family was usually very particular about aristocratic “decency.”

“I invited her, right after you sent the letters for the three of us to the estate~”

Cecilia smiled, her tone reassuring. “I’m not sure if you were aware of the domestic situation while on the front lines. Although there were no major riots, prices skyrocketed at the start of the war, and people were anxious… Some opportunistic merchants even began hoarding, which led to a decline in public order.”

Morin nodded. He had heard about what Cecilia mentioned later on.

Although the Imperial government later took tough measures, including expanding the police force, and as Saxony began to suck the blood from Gaul’s corpse, prices gradually dropped and temporarily stabilized…

The period of chaos before that had indeed existed.

“At that time, General Seeckt and Ludwig were both at the front. Patricia was living alone in that large house, and the servants had all gone home. It was truly worrisome.”

Cecilia continued, her gaze towards Patricia exceptionally gentle. Morin also noticed that Cecilia now addressed Patricia by her first name, rather than her surname.

“Plus, she was helping you research that magitech communication device and often worked late into the night… I thought, since there are plenty of empty rooms in the estate, it would be better for her to move in for a while so we could look out for each other.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping over Helga and Patricia. “These two actually get along quite well. Despite their polar opposite personalities, they are… surprisingly compatible in some ways~”

“Instead of leaving them to be lonely, it’s better to bring them together.”

Hearing this, Patricia lowered her head shyly, her fingers unconsciously twisting her skirt. “Actually… I’m not that fragile. I can take care of myself…”

“Yes, yes, our Miss Patricia is the most independent.” Cecilia teased with a smile. “But you have to admit, the black tea and pastries here are better than what you make yourself, right?”

“Of… of course they are!”

Patricia huffed, but the corners of her mouth couldn’t help curving upwards.

“And… and here, when Helga runs into a problem she doesn’t understand, she doesn’t call to harass me in the middle of the night anymore. She just knocks on my door… although that’s also annoying.”

Helga blinked innocently. “But the boss said inspiration doesn’t follow a schedule. If there’s a problem, it needs to be solved immediately.”

Morin nodded, perfectly satisfied with Cecilia’s arrangement.

This was Cecilia; she could always arrange everything perfectly, not only ensuring everyone’s safety but also subtly drawing these people, who were crucial to him, closer together.

“Indeed, it’s good for everyone to be together and look out for each other.”

Morin smiled. This kind of stability in the rear was the greatest comfort to him.

Otherwise, enduring hails of bullets on the front lines while worrying about various issues in the rear would be terrible.

Patricia snorted, lifting her teacup to cover half her face, leaving only her beautiful eyes to steal glances at Morin, her lips curling into a slight smile.

Just then, a highly inappropriate “growl” echoed through the hall.

Morin awkwardly clutched his stomach, where the protests were growing increasingly loud.

“Um…”

He checked the wall clock; the hour hand pointed to dinnertime.

“While mentally I’d love to continue enjoying this wonderful reunion, my stomach seems to disagree.”

Morin spread his hands helplessly. “I spent the whole day on a train that didn’t even have a dining car. I left in such a hurry I forgot to bring hot food, so I only gnawed on some bread…”

Cecilia paused for a moment before covering her mouth and chuckling softly.

“It seems our Fritz is truly starving.” She stood up, her skirt swaying gently with her movements.

“Let’s go. Dinner is already prepared.”

Like a pardoned prisoner, Morin immediately sprang up from the sofa.

Seeing Morin’s impatient eagerness, Patricia and Helga couldn’t help but laugh as well. The hall was soon filled with the cheerful laughter of girls teasing each other.

For Morin, perhaps in this world, this was what home felt like.

No matter what storms he weathered in the outside world, as long as he returned here, to these people, all exhaustion would be soothed.

Of course, the prerequisite was having a full stomach first.

---

The dining room of the Falkenstein Estate maintained the exquisite luxury of traditional Saxon “Court Junkers.”

Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, silver cutlery gleamed on pristine white tablecloths, and the fragrance of fresh flowers filled the air.

However, Morin, currently seated at the head of the table, found this refinement somewhat “insufficient.”

Before him lay a small piece of pan-fried fish, a few stalks of asparagus, and a small bowl of cream of mushroom soup.

Followed by the traditional cold cuts of sausage and cheese, along with some aristocratic, high-class but unfilling foods.

In Morin’s current eyes, this was simply cat food.

“Um…”

Morin looked awkwardly at Head Maid Luna standing nearby. “Luna, is there anything… more substantial in the kitchen?”

He gestured. “Like a roast leg of lamb, or a large steak? Even pan-fried sausages would do. These appetizers… are really not enough to fill the gaps between my teeth.”

Hearing this, Cecilia looked up at Morin in surprise.

She remembered that while Morin used to have a good appetite, he was definitely not a big eater.

“Has your appetite… grown this large?” Cecilia set down her knife and fork, a hint of inquiry in her eyes.

“Ahem, I’ve indeed been eating quite a lot recently…”

Morin couldn’t explain that he had become a super soldier protected by the “Power of Nine Dragons,” so he could only shift the “blame” to his battle brothers.

“You have no idea. The boys in the instruction unit are all like wolves; if you’re a bit slow, you don’t even get soup.”

Cecilia didn’t press further, immediately turning to instruct Luna: “Tell the kitchen to prepare the roast steaks and sausage platters meant for tomorrow’s lunch right now. Make sure the portions are large.”

“Yes, Madam.” Though surprised, Luna maintained her professionalism and hurried toward the kitchen.

While waiting for the main courses, Morin inquired about the recent domestic situation. Cecilia stated that domestic prices had stabilized, returning to the slightly elevated levels seen at the war’s onset.

Meanwhile, orders in the military industry had surged. Aside from shipyards, major arsenals were expanding their production lines, creating numerous new jobs.

Speaking of this, Cecilia seemed to remember something and took the initiative to ask, “By the way, Fritz… since you’re back, I have some business matters to discuss with you.”

“Hmm? Is there a problem at the Schmeisser Company?”

“Quite the opposite… it’s going too well… The military orders are simply too numerous. It’s clear the Imperial Army wishes to equip these new weapons on a massive scale…”

Cecilia smiled and shook her head.

“I mainly wanted to ask about Demag. It seems you’ve already seen the half-track armored vehicle they recently improved. I heard you’re quite satisfied with it, Fritz?”

At the mention of this, Morin’s expression grew more serious. “That’s right. I’ve tested it with the instruction unit. While it still has some minor issues, it is the core of the Army’s future motorization.”

“In that case…”

Cecilia pondered for a moment, a flash of a merchant’s shrewdness in her eyes.

“Then Fritz, perhaps you should consider additional investment. The profits from the Schmeisser Company have been very considerable lately. Although a portion must be shared with Mauser and the others, leaving the remaining funds idle in the account is a waste.”

“While Demag has a deep foundation, maximizing their production capacity instantly also requires capital… I was thinking, could you continue to invest to increase your shareholding, or simply establish a new branch factory in the name of the Schmeisser Company, specifically to undertake the production of certain components?”

Morin paused with his knife and fork, looking at Cecilia in surprise.

It had to be said, the commercial instincts of this “Radiant Crystal Queen” were terrifyingly sharp.

“That’s a fantastic idea, Sister Cecilia.”

Morin nodded, his tone affirmative.

“The future Army will undoubtedly be built on wheels and tracks… The demand for trucks, half-tracks, and even fully tracked combat vehicles will be an astronomical figure.”

Saying this, Morin couldn’t help but shake his head, feigning distress. “Sigh… I waited so long to finally see profits, and now they’re going to disappear again…”

“Fritz, investing in industry is inherently a long-term return; it is indeed difficult to see benefits in the short term…”

Cecilia smiled and patiently explained to Morin. “But once the military begins placing orders in large quantities, the profits will be quite considerable… Not just the one-time profit from equipment procurement, but also the continuous profits from subsequent maintenance and spare parts. Those are where the real money lies.”

Morin naturally recognized Cecilia’s foresight. For this “Radiant Crystal Queen,” managing these industries was child’s play.

And given his foresight regarding military development, the Saxon Imperial Army’s shift toward mechanization was only a matter of time, making it highly advisable to lay the groundwork in advance.

Securing a certain degree of influence in this area could also help the Saxon Empire avoid some detours when developing its mechanized forces in the future.

Although Helga, sitting nearby, couldn’t quite grasp complex business operations, upon hearing keywords like “factory” and “production,” she couldn’t help interjecting: “Does that mean I can have more machine tools? I want to try building a new type of stamping equipment…”

Morin: “Of course, my chief designer. As long as you can draw the blueprints, you can have as many machine tools as you want.”

Just then, the kitchen doors swung open, and a rich aroma of meat instantly filled the entire dining room.

Several scullery maids walked in carrying massive silver platters loaded with Morin’s favorite pork knuckles, sizzling steaks, thick Thuringian sausages, and golden, crispy potato wedges.

Morin’s eyes instantly lit up… with the look of a starving wolf spotting a flock of sheep.

“Finally!”

Without standing on ceremony, he impaled a steak with his fork and, barely cutting it, took a massive bite.

Tender meat juices exploded in his mouth; the satisfaction was simply beyond words.

While the three ladies were still delicately slicing their small pieces of pan-fried fish, he had already polished off an entire steak.

His knife and fork rapidly sectioned the meat, which he then shoved into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed in the blink of an eye, his movements incredibly fluid.

Soon, Helga and Patricia were staring in shock.

“Morin… are you really okay?” Patricia asked with concern. “Um… do they really not feed you in the army?”

His mouth stuffed with meat, Morin could only wave his hand vaguely to signal he was fine.

Once this round of voracious eating subsided slightly, and after chatting about other topics to detour around the “appetite” issue, Morin finally freed his mouth to satisfy their curiosity about the front lines.

“There wasn’t anything too special, mostly dealing with mud.”

Morin downplayed it; after all, he couldn’t talk about many of the operations he had experienced as casual conversation.

“However, I did encounter something memorable. For instance, when we were preparing to launch a new round of offensives after Christmas, we ran into a Britannian Highland Mage.”

“A Highland Mage?” Patricia was intrigued. “Were they very powerful?”

“Extremely… extremely powerful.”

Morin’s expression grew slightly solemn as he recalled the scene.

“I suspect he was an Archmage of at least the Eighth Tier. He single-handedly changed the weather along several kilometers of the frontline, plunging it into extreme cold… Our soldiers suffered massive non-combat casualties in that area, ultimately halting our advance.”

“[Control Weather]…” Patricia murmured. As a magitech researcher, she naturally understood the significance of this.

“Even within the Highland Mage Order, that is a high-tier spell mastered only by a very few high-ranking mages… I didn’t expect the Britannians to deploy mages of that caliber.”

Patricia paused, then seemingly remembered something.

“Right, speaking of that.”

She set down her knife and fork, looking at Morin with some excitement.

“The portable magitech communication device I asked you to test with the instruction unit seems to have caught the eye of the friendly forces you fought alongside. They all thought it was highly effective… so people from the military have been approaching me recently~”

“Oh? That’s great news.” Morin raised an eyebrow. “From the Ministry of War or the Air Force?”

“Both.”

Patricia lifted her chin, looking rather smug.

“They rated the device very highly, saying it solved the ‘last mile’ problem in tactical command. They hope to obtain authorization for large-scale production and deployment. And… the patent fee proposed by the Imperial Patent Office is quite considerable.”

“So I have an idea… Lieutenant Colonel Morin, are you interested in partnering with me to start a company? One dedicated to the R&D and production of magitech communication equipment?”

She looked at Morin expectantly, seemingly already envisioning a future where the two of them dominated the Empire’s communications industry.

Cecilia also watched Morin with great interest, seemingly waiting for his verdict.

However, defying everyone’s expectations, Morin didn’t show the anticipated excitement.

He slowly set down his knife and fork, picked up his napkin, and wiped his mouth. His expression became somewhat complex.

“Miss Seeckt…”

Morin looked at the genius girl and spoke slowly. “If it’s just to make quick money, or to support the war effort, this project is certainly fine. But if it’s for long-term development…”

He paused, delivering a line that stunned everyone present: “Magitech is actually already a sunset industry.”

The initially relaxed and pleasant atmosphere in the dining room instantly solidified at Morin’s words, “sunset industry.”

The smile on Patricia’s face froze. She still held the delicate silver spoon suspended in mid-air, as if time had been paused.

For the vast majority of people in this era, especially genius researchers like her, magitech was considered the core engine driving the world, even the cornerstone of Britannian and Gallic civilization.

And now, Morin had very suddenly pronounced its death sentence.

“Sun… sunset industry?”

Patricia immediately understood Morin’s meaning, but she still couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’m not joking. Although I’ve always wanted to militarize magitech and believe it can indeed quickly solve many problems, it’s limited to this war alone…”

Morin looked at Patricia, his gaze deepening. “Miss Seeckt, you are an expert in this field. You should know better than I do… what is the core of magitech?”

“Magic circuits and… magic crystal ore, of course,” Patricia answered subconsciously.

“Exactly, magic crystal ore.” Morin nodded. “Then may I ask, where does magic crystal ore come from?”

“From… falling from the sky… and then we mine it from underground…”

“What if one day, all the underground magic crystal ores are mined out?”

“This…” Patricia was stumped.

“Compared to a hundred years ago, how much has the current reserve of magic crystals decreased?”

Morin didn’t give her time to think and continued to press, because he knew very well that all relevant practitioners, including Patricia, were well aware of this reality.

It was just that everyone, by prior agreement, chose to avoid this problem.

“Why have the Britannians and Gauls, who are ahead of the Saxon Empire in magitech, also begun industrial transformation and attempted to develop radiant crystal industrial technology?”

“Because high-quality magic crystal ore is becoming increasingly scarce. The current mining cost has multiplied several times compared to ten years ago, and it’s still rising.”

Morin didn’t care about the others’ reactions and continued on his own: “As shallow veins dry up, the cost of magitech will rise exponentially. Unless technology for synthesizing artificial magic crystals appears one day, or some infinite alternative energy source is found, this path is destined to become narrower and narrower until it reaches the edge of a cliff.”

He extended a finger, tapping lightly on the table, the sound like a ticking countdown clock.

“As extraterrestrial ore bodies, the reserves of magic crystal ore are naturally much less than other minerals, and it is clearly a non-renewable resource… When the last gram of magic crystal is mined, those expensive magitech devices, those mage towers, and even the Britannians’ magic-driven Armored Knights will become piles of scrap iron.”

“That is why I say it is a sunset industry.”

“Tsk… after saying so much, Lieutenant Colonel Morin, just tell me if you want to make this money or not.” Recovering her wits, Patricia crossed her arms and said grumpily.

“I do, but I only plan to make quick money—the kind where I immediately divest once the profit reaches my psychological expectation~”

“…”