Chapter 225: The Observation Post

“The 854 and 901 class ships, as well as the H800, have no anti-torpedo bulkheads or belts in their underwater sections. Even a few dozen kilograms of black powder hitting the wooden hull would be quite a blow.”

“Are we going to have to consider mine defense for all subsequent models?”

“It’s not out of the question…”

“If you ask me, all-ironclad ships are the future direction of naval construction. It has now been proven that wooden-hulled warships are not invincible in this time.”

…

Wu De coughed. “Let’s not discuss subsequent plans for such unconfirmed matters.”

“I think, Little Jiang, you’re overestimating the risk of this Paul fellow spreading military technology throughout Europe. It’s a bit like crying wolf. After all, we are the only ones with a systematic industrial power. No matter how much he jumps, he can’t turn the world upside down,” Wen Desi said after listening to Jiang Shan’s report. “However, the intelligence that the Spanish, under his influence, are strengthening the defense of the Philippines and their naval power is something to be concerned about. Do you have any further information that can indicate to what extent the Spanish authorities can carry out Paul’s armament plan? For example, after the implementation of Operation Hunger, does the Manila government still have enough silver to pay for new weapons and fortress construction?”

“The raid on the silver ships had a significant impact, but the substantial blow to the rulers of the Philippines was not as great as imagined,” Jiang Shan said, looking at a stack of materials in his hand, mostly reports written by Weiss, and some from the Portuguese in Macau.

“The tobacco monopoly forcibly enacted by the Governor, plus the collection of gambling taxes and the leasing of land to the Chinese, have brought in a lot of income for the colonial government. In addition, they have conquered more natives than in history and attracted more Chinese immigrants. So the colonial government’s income from both tribute and poll tax has increased significantly compared to the past. Another interesting point is that Manila’s demand for a commodity usually imported from China—mercury—has greatly increased.”

He pulled out a telegram. “Three weeks ago, a Portuguese merchant ship from Macau unloaded 119 jars of mercury in Manila, each containing about two gallons. The Governor ordered a batch of convicts to be sent to Palawan to mine for mercury, even postponing the plan to station troops and build a fortress in Zamboanga for this purpose. Nevertheless, he continues to write letters requesting more mercury to be shipped to Manila from Peru.”

“From the fact that the Spanish are importing large quantities of mercury and starting to mine local mercury deposits, it is clear that they are not doing it to make fulminate of mercury. Making fulminate doesn’t require so much. It must be for the amalgamation process to extract gold and silver. You must all remember the report about the recent grand celebration in Manila, celebrating the victory over the Ilocano rebels.” Noticing that Chairman Wen nodded slightly, Jiang Shan continued, “In fact, the area conquered by the colonial army includes the most important gold mining area in the Philippines, Baguio. The Spanish have long known that both lode gold and placer gold are produced there…”

“Using other people’s money to prove his own worth, he’s really clever,” Chairman Wen seemed to be muttering to himself. “The Haiqi—the Esmeralda—where is it now?”

“It is currently undergoing routine maintenance at the Baopu Naval Shipyard. After the overhaul, it will return to Manila with a new batch of cargo.”

“I personally support the Navy providing support for the Foreign Intelligence Bureau’s field operations, as long as it is within the Navy’s capabilities,” Chairman Wen said, leaning forward from behind the conference table. Jiang Shan knew this was a sign that the meeting was over. “That Japanese man who can build a semi-submersible spar torpedo boat is also quite interesting, very intriguing.”

Schlick tiptoed across the garden path. Ever since he had tasted his master’s “loving education” several times for trampling on the flowerbeds, he had begun to imitate Mimi’s light-footed gait. To others, it looked like a mule trying to walk like a cat. Early in the morning, a series of gunshots suddenly erupted from behind the villa, which was a great disturbance to Schlick, who was concentrating on the art of his tiptoes. It scared him so much that he almost fell headfirst onto the steps.

The newly built carriage house occupied the east side of the villa’s courtyard wall. The original stable behind the house had been converted into a shooting gallery at the Count’s command, and a covered veranda had been added to the outside. Schlick now stood at the steps of the shooting gallery. The intoxicating aroma of sweet wine and the terrifying smell of gunpowder smoke mingled in the early morning air. A life-or-death question swirled in his dull mind—whether to go up or not. His master was up there, dressed like some unrestrained captain, with a clean white silk shirt with an open collar, and breeches tightly fastened at his waist with a water buffalo leather belt. He held a wine glass in one hand and a wheellock pistol in the other, chatting and laughing with the mayor’s wife and a group of officials. The main door was open, and Schlick could see the dismembered and headless wooden statues inside the shooting gallery. He didn’t know that the Count used these Tagalog handicrafts as targets, but his dull mind thought: if he displeased his master at this moment, he would very likely end up like the pile of broken wooden puppets on the floor.

“No, my dear Sebastián, Lord Fannanuova is right,” Captain Pilar shouted, his legs propped up on the coffee table, a fired wheellock pistol resting on his lap. He had drunk a lot of wine and spoke with a drunken slur. “I’m not saying the liver isn’t important to a person. I’ve killed many enemies with my own hands, and I’ve seen many people die before my eyes. No, don’t think I’m talking about negroes and heathen savages. The Dutch, the French, the Saxons, the English, even the Spanish are all the same. If their liver is pierced by a spear or shot through by a bullet, it’s excruciatingly painful, but not immediately fatal. Some people look like they’re dead, but they’ve just fainted from the pain. The quickest and most merciful way to end a person’s life and suffering, as the Count said, is to let a lead bullet pierce the heart, or to relieve him of the heavy burden on his shoulders with a steel blade.”

“But Aristotle—” Sebastián de Andrade tried to continue.

“Forget your Aristotle and your scholastic philosophy,” Pilar downed a large glass of sherry brandy in one gulp. “Seeing is believing. Let me talk to you about natural philosophy. Five years ago, I dueled with a friend. Yes, that Catalan once had my friendship. I pierced his liver with my sword. The fellow trembled all over with pain, but he didn’t fall down and die. Instead, he struck back and wounded my arm. He was carried home and died a week later, and I was exiled here. What? You don’t believe me, but you believe some Aristotle? Let’s have the facts resolve your doubts. The Count has plenty of swords and pistols here.”

Weiss Rando called over a local maid and whispered instructions to refill the captain’s glass. After he was completely drunk, all the guns would be put away. These kinds of gun-and-sword gatherings were very popular with the officers, but they could easily lead to trouble. Although the villa was a small arsenal, equipped with everything from modern weapons, Lin’gao-made rifles, and naval 12-gauge shotguns to custom-made .45 caliber new-style revolvers, he only ever brought out the wheellock pistols to entertain his guests.

The mayor and his wife sat on the veranda. Weiss noticed that Señora Isabella was already showing a hint of impatience. He was about to order a servant to fetch some iced soda water when he turned and saw his black slave standing helplessly at the steps.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um—er,” Schlick finally remembered what he was supposed to say. “Miss Mimi asks you to go to the kitchen, because the egg—um, the cake is burned—”

“Mimi,” Alfonso teased Weiss, “is that a young lady’s name or a cat’s name?”

“I’ll bet an escudo it’s a pretty little she-cat.”

“And it makes its nest in the Count’s bed every night.”

“Gentlemen, I’m sorry, please sit for a moment,” Weiss waved his hand in response to the chorus of laughter. “I’ll be right back. The servants here are really not easy to manage.”

“I hear that Your Excellency the Count has a collection of a kind of repeating pistol with a wheel. If you would be so kind, I would like to—” The mayor didn’t get to finish his request. His wife cut him off.

“My dear, I think we’ve seen enough shooting and heard enough of this bloody and terrible discussion,” Señora Isabella cast an annoyed look at her husband and extended her hand to the Count. Her lace-trimmed sleeve slipped down to her shoulder, revealing a white, plump arm. “Many people say your room is made entirely of Chinese porcelain. Would you be so kind as to satisfy a poor woman’s curiosity?” Weiss saw the helpless expression on the mayor’s face and began to show his trademark smile.

“You are probably referring to the washroom. I’m afraid the curiosity aroused by such exaggerated rumors will result in great disappointment,” Weiss said, gently taking her fat, short fingers. “Please follow me.” “Get someone to go to the bathroom and help that stupid Iberian woman use the flush toilet. Keep an eye on her and don’t let her wander around,” Weiss said to Mimi. “Now tell me, what’s going on?”

“The observation post has spotted the Spanish transporting cannons to Fort San Antonio.”

Most of the detached buildings built by the Spanish in the colonies had towers. The villa’s tower had been raised by one story during the renovation. On the best of days, the observation post could even see the ships entering and leaving Cavite harbor. The Special Reconnaissance Team was divided into two groups, taking turns on watch. Weiss first saw a team member with his back to him, observing with a telescope. Another sat near the observation window, with sandbags piled up to support the Mosin-Nagant rifle with a scope in his hands.

The observation post monitored the surroundings 24 hours a day, even at night. They were equipped with night vision equipment that could be activated in an emergency. With this team on duty, Lord Rando could sleep much more soundly at night.