Manhattan, New York.
The Waldorf Hotel.
Thanks to Liu Ren's relentless shamelessness, he had finally managed to get inside the room.
Glancing at the messy drafts scattered all over the place, Liu Ren spoke up immediately. "Sir, I've come seeking your help. I have a concept, but I don't know how to put it into practice!"
Eyeing Liu Ren with suspicion, Tesla pondered for a moment. "What is your research on? Is it related to electricity?"
"No, no, no, not electricity—firearms!"
Hearing Tesla's question, Liu Ren waved his hands in explanation.
"Weapons? I have no interest in those, nor do I wish to create such things!"
Waving him off in refusal, Tesla was already regretting letting this young man inside.
Yet just as Tesla's face filled with reluctance, Liu Ren produced thick stacks of US dollars and placed them on the table. "I know you love research, but science requires funding! I only need a single set of blueprints. After this, I promise I will never disturb you again!"
Looking at the cash Liu Ren had set on the table, Tesla gave him a deeply meaningful stare. "Do you think this paltry sum can make me compromise my stance against firearms? Ha! What kind of person do you take me for?!"
Glaring furiously at Liu Ren, an incensed Tesla yanked open a drawer, swept the banknotes inside with a flick of his wrist, and slammed it shut with a loud *bang*!
Blinking, Liu Ren stared at Tesla and fell completely silent.
Because this man, hailed as "the man closest to God," was so damn tsundere!
"Speak, then. What is your idea?"
Sitting down at the table, Tesla picked up a rumpled sheet of draft paper.
Watching him, Liu Ren hurried to sit across from him. "I want a self-loading rifle. Preferably simple, lightweight, and ideally with interchangeable parts..."
Tesla sketched casually on the draft paper, staying silent for a long time before continuing to draw.
Just a few minutes later, Tesla tossed the finished blueprint to Liu Ren. "Here is what you wanted. Don't bother me again!"
Looking down at the schematic in his hands, Liu Ren examined it immediately.
Yet the moment he recognized the design—virtually identical to the Garand rifle—he froze on the spot.
The Garand rifle wasn't supposed to be born until the dawn of World War II, yet based merely on his rough description, Tesla had created it eighteen years ahead of history!
Was this what they called a "genius"? No, perhaps being a genius was merely the baseline requirement to even gaze upon the pinnacle of humanity!
"Do you have any more questions?"
Eyeing Liu Ren suspiciously, Tesla stepped forward and said, "This is the self-loading mechanism you asked for. It simply fires and extracts spent casings continuously... Do you understand?"
Tesla couldn't help but ask the young man beside him.
"I don't understand, but it sounds incredible!"
Shaking his head, Liu Ren admitted his ignorance, though it felt unbelievably impressive.
His mouth twitching, Tesla let out a cold sneer, pointed toward the front door, and snapped, "Get out!"
"Right away, sir!"
Carefully stowing the blueprint away, Liu Ren turned and left.
Yet the instant the door clicked shut, Liu Ren's heart pounded furiously.
He had originally planned to "borrow" some specialized talent from various universities if he couldn't get Tesla on board. But thinking about it now, what caliber of genius would university scholars have to be to comprehend Nikola Tesla's intellect?
It was just like Qian Xuesen back in the day—how many American divisions could ever match that old gentleman? An aerospace carrier fleet? But the problem was, they couldn't even build one!
All in all, the conclusion was simple: the Americans really loved flattering themselves!
Zhang Cheng: *What kind of gibberish are you spouting? Go show your face in front of Mr. Yu if you have the guts!*
Liu Ren: *I only graduated from middle school!*
Lu Yan: *Damn, bro is literally untargetable!*
***
With the urgent construction nearing its completion, the armory had finally begun to take shape.
However, another massive issue now lay before Liu Ren: his pool of talent seemed thoroughly inadequate.
"Chao-ge, do you know what the most expensive thing in the twentieth century is?"
Liu Ren uttered the question slowly, stroking his chin.
Looking at him in confusion, A Chao's expression grew dead serious. "Gold!"
"Talent! It's talent!"
Liu Ren threw his hands up in exasperation, thoroughly speechless.
They had enough money for now. Lauren had invested five hundred thousand dollars, Cohen, the former docks boss, had "sponsored" six hundred thousand, and added to the cash Liu Ren had "borrowed" here and there, he wasn't short on funds! But the problem was, he lacked gunsmithing talent capable of turning blueprints into actual firearms.
"If you want me to kidnap people, fine, but if you want talent, I really have no way!"
Spreading his hands, A Chao sighed in frustration.
Yet right as A Chao finished speaking, Liu Ren jerked his head around. "Wait, what did you just say?"
"If you want talent, I have no way!"
A Chao looked at Liu Ren, bewildered.
"No, the sentence before that!"
Staring at A Chao with a wicked grin, Liu Ren couldn't hold back a mischievous cat-like smirk.
"Kidnap?"
His eyes widening, A Chao seemed to catch on, instantly growing excited.
The two exchanged a look and smiled, their grins turning thoroughly sinister.
If one were to ask which arms manufacturer was the most famous across the Atlantic, the answer was obviously the Springfield Armory—it certainly wasn't their own newly hatched outfit! It was just like asking who was the best fighter in New York: naturally, it was Liu Ren, not Ip Man.
After all, Springfield had been founded all the way back in 1794, virtually celebrated as the epitome of the US Army's small-arms development history!
And so, Liu Ren reached out his sinful hands toward it.
Thanks to Massachusetts not being too far from New York, Liu Ren drove there in no time.
Squatting in Springfield, Liu Ren kept a sharp, watchful eye on the nearby armory.
Right then, a young man came walking happily in their direction.
Spotting him, Liu Ren instinctively reached for an axe, but in a flash, he hastily tossed it back into his Storage Space.
After all, he was here to "recruit," not to teach people about "benevolence and righteousness"!
*Damn it, how come I didn't find a suitable tool when it counts?*
Thinking about how his Storage Space held nothing but guns, dynamite, and bloodstained axes, Liu Ren couldn't help smacking his own forehead.
The next second, however, Liu Ren spotted half a brick. Walking over, he scooped it into his hand, weighed it carefully, and instantly broke into a radiant smile.
In high spirits, John Cantius Garand was walking toward the armory.
Yet a moment later, he heard hurried footsteps approaching.
Turning around, John didn't even have time to react before he saw half a brick expanding rapidly in his vision.
*Thud!*
A dull impact sounded. John raised a trembling finger toward Liu Ren, his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground.
Looking at the fallen John, Liu Ren rushed over to check his breathing, then waved his hand urgently. "Quick, quick, quick, tie him up! Tie him up!"
Staring in shock, A Chao couldn't help asking, "Ah Ren, your brick-smacking technique is surprisingly practiced!"
Hearing that, Liu Ren felt a twinge of awkwardness.
He could hardly admit that in his past life, he had always been ready to smack any customer who filed a complaint against him!
Of course, how could an upright, kind-hearted man like him ever do such a thing?
Win people over with virtue, brother!
Tossing the bound John into the trunk, A Chao asked, "Should we keep going?"
"Nonsense! We're already here. If we don't kidnap—bah, recruit a few more, wouldn't this whole trip be a waste?"
With that, Liu Ren weighed the brick in his hand. "This thing really hits the spot!"
Chapter 25