Chapter 368 - 159: Heavyweight Reward_3
At first, he thought that a variety of small Pinduoduo products would accompany him through the long twenty-eight years.
Later, he discovered that Pinduoduo could actually upgrade to Taobao or JD. Just when he thought Taobao and JD were the end, a revolver suddenly appeared as a reward.
The subsequent development became increasingly absurd, from sharpened spears to TNT explosives, and then to metal arrowheads.
To this day, he could actually be openly given seamless steel tubes with rifling, and they were the kind that had gone through the entire process of becoming a "quasi-barrel."
"Is this evolution from domestic small goods to world unity?
If they can give me stuff like this, why not just send me a few AK47s loved by African fellows, or a couple of rocket launchers?
If I really had these toys...
Heh, even if two more Spanish pirate ships come, I could teach them what ’let the cannon roar’ means."
...
Dreaming about the beautiful future, Chen Zhou felt an increasing urgency in his heart about charcoal forging.
Originally, building water wheels and windmills was more about benefiting the indigenous people.
Now, he didn’t have to tend the fields himself, and tedious work like grinding wasn’t his concern.
Liberating the indigenous people’s labor would allow them to spend more time helping him build the island, dig cave dwellings, or cultivate more fields, raise more sheep, and produce a steady supply of meat and milk.
Various factors piled up, coupled with the pressure of the rainy season, made him so attentive to this matter.
Now under the premise of entering the iron age, the benefits of charcoal forging have gained a substantial addition—manufacturing firearms.
At the mention of guns, Chen Zhou became spirited.
He used to go without sleep and food, spending tens of days focused on drafting blueprints, studying ways to improve the matchlock gun.
At this moment, thinking about the power and performance of modern firearms, and further associating with the treasures on the Spanish pirate ships, he felt an endless surge of motivation.
He wished he could immediately master all the forging skills, then build a semi-automatic rifle, set sail, and take down the bandits hauling gold and silver from the South American Continent to his country, and pile all the treasure in his cave.
...
On Saturday and Sunday, after organizing and transporting half of the wood and stone wall, they saw Chen Zhou with a strange smile on his face slowly stand up from beside the box in the middle of the sand.
His eyes seemed to flicker with a burning light, like a beast in heat looking for a suitable mate, giving a chilling feeling to anyone who noticed.
Maintaining this strange, excited state, Chen Zhou moved out the whole box of barrels and then immediately plunged into the work of sorting and stacking the wood and stone walls—
He wanted to finish this work as soon as possible, then immediately rush to the charcoal kiln to burn his first batch of charcoal, and then return tirelessly to the cave to build a blast furnace.
Chen Zhou had never craved for more manpower as much as he did at this moment, his mind was filled with guns.
The MK14 Mod0 from the United States, the G28/HK417 from Germany, the FN SCAR-H Mk20 SSR from Belgium, the SVCh from Russia...
Various well-known precision rifles flashed through his mind, and he intensely longed to own such a weapon, even if it was just a "beggar version."
...
In the tense atmosphere, two indigenous people realized that Chen Zhou was eager to finish the work.
They were always more sensible than their modern peers, and more perceptive, subconsciously matching Chen Zhou’s pace, moving their thin legs faster and faster.
Like three industrious ants moving back and forth on the beach.
Immersed in this suffocating working atmosphere, even before noon, a new circle of wooden and stone walls stood on the beach.
The two indigenous people hadn’t even asked Chen Zhou what he planned next.
But they saw Chen Zhou jogging along, putting the peculiar big box on the cart, pushing it without turning his head, leaving behind only a gradually diminishing silhouette.