Ordinary white citizens and businessmen in Manila did not like the newly built arms factory on the outskirts of the city at first. In addition to the fact that the governor invested all the money collected through monopoly laws and special taxes into this project that had no benefit to them, there was also its own reasons. [No pop-up novel website] Factories were a formidable novelty for colonial residents far away from Europe. No place in the entire Philippines featured so many machines and furnaces, the banging of metal, and the various tools. Drilling and chiseling all the time. The continuous noise made the Spaniards in Manila, nearly ten kilometers away, unable to avoid complaining because they could no longer regain the sleepy purity of the past. The large number of recruited pagan Chinese and local natives gathered around the factory gave the Spaniards all kinds of illusory anxieties. Some people often mentioned the "threat of thousands of barbarian workers."
Recently, another terrifying rumor has been circulating in colonial European circles. The fanatical priest Paul is making a terrible new drug in the factory. It is so powerful that only a small bag can level an entire city. This is not just a rumor. Sometimes, dull explosions can be heard in the direction of the arsenal, like thunder on the horizon. Others claimed that they could see cattle carts containing severed limbs and minced meat coming out of the factory at night and secretly buried in the wilderness.
Saburo Aishui lazily leaned on a simple sentry shed made of scrap wood and straw, facing the road leading to the factory workshop, but he had no awareness of the fate of being blown to pieces at any time. This former Ashigaru-gumi leader came to Luzon partly because of his faith and partly because of the delusion of making a fortune overseas. Unfortunately, Lord Ukon and Lord Naito died of illness one after another, and the governor of Nanban gradually lost his regard for Japanese expatriates as before. After many years of suffering from hunger and hunger, Saburo Aishui's dream of getting rich has long since disappeared. However, serving as a soldier and sentry for the Nanman Governor was much more comfortable than working in the fields by myself. He calculated that he would be full every meal. Although the Nanman people are not very generous, they only give some rice and dried fish as salary, plus the taro and vegetables grown by their Tagalog wives in front of and behind the house, it is impossible to feed a family of four. Problem. If I could get a job like guarding tax cards next time, I might be able to earn a few small bucks and drink a few glasses of Tuba wine made from coconut milk at a small restaurant run by a Chinese in Parian. Enjoy a plate of roasted pork. The delicious flavor of pork seemed to be lingering on his tongue. Saburo Aishui leaned against the wooden pillar of the sentry shed and fell into happy meditation, smiling with his mouth half open. The saliva flowed down the corners of his mouth, forming a small river on his face that was darkened by the tropical sun.
"Hey," Saburo Aishui was startled by the loud greeting before he came back to his senses and saw the captain Jubei Kuroshima standing in front of him talking to him. This Owari rogue is said to have killed someone at Hoi An Port in Quang Nam Kingdom. He had no choice but to flee to Manila. "Aisui-kun, be more decent. Are you thinking wildly while on guard duty again?" Jubei pointed forward and said, "A carriage is coming."
If you were in Madrid or Seville, people wouldn't even bother to take a second look at this simple and crude two-wheeled carriage. It was pulled by listless, stunted Chinese ponies, and its unpainted log body contained nothing but a tarpaulin awning. But in the Philippines, where horses are more expensive than people, the only things that come and go in the factory are oxcarts transporting wood and iron parts. A carriage, even the simplest carriage, is a symbol of dignity.
Saburo Aishui walked forward to meet the carriage, holding the iron cannon in front of his chest, but the hammer was not cocked to the ready position. Better not to frighten the nobleman in the carriage, he thought. The Nanman people made new iron cannons very efficiently. This eliminates the need for troublesome and dangerous match ropes. Bite open the hawaii wrapped in abaca paper and stuff it into the gun tube, put a small round copper cap on the fire door, pull the hammer back, and the projectile will fly out as soon as you pull the trigger.
Aishui Saburo, who was familiar with Japanese iron cannons, was not used to this new gadget when he first got it. He accidentally misfired many times on the training ground, which made the Nanman commander lose his temper. Pentax gives”.
Although this new invention has outstanding performance, very few people use this new weapon. The reason is that there are very few small copper caps that the arsenal can produce, production is intermittent, and there is no stable supply. Only a small amount of newly-built copper caps are equipped with them. Japanese company. For the local Spanish garrison, the bulky matchlock gun was still their main weapon.
Unexpectedly, what emerged from the hood of the carriage was not a southern barbarian gentleman, but an "Indio man". Although he was wearing a hip-length, silk-cut "barong" like an indigenous squire, Following the example of the Southern Barbarians, they carried a short staff in their hands to show their dignity. But with the white-edged wrinkles on his face blown by the sea breeze, the exposed skin covered with dark brown sun spots, and the quick energy when he jumped out of the carriage, anyone can recognize this person. He is a veteran of making a living at sea.
"What is this old seal barking about?" Saburo Aishui wondered. During the days when he was struggling to make a living in the Philippines, he had already learned Tagalog and Pampanga, he could also speak Spanish, and he could barely understand Hokkien and Cantonese. What the Filipino sailor said was similar to several languages he knew, but he couldn't fully understand it.
The sailor seemed to be impatient with the chicken-and-duck communication. He reached out and took out a piece of paper and shook it at the Japanese soldier. Although Saburo Aishui couldn't recognize a few Latin letters, the image of the Manila City emblem printed on the paper and the bright red seal of the Governor covered with fire paint wavered in front of his eyes for a long time, and he finally understood it. He looked at Captain Black Island who had walked away, then looked at the carriage that only noble people could ride in, and finally put down the cannon and waved his hand. The carriage swayed toward the factory. Saburo Aishui returned to the sentry post and soon fell into daydreaming about roasted pork.
Fernando Marcos leaned on the seat under the hood of the car. After struggling to talk to the Japanese, he felt that it was very difficult to say another word. There is nothing more tiring than trying to explain to people in this world who you are and what you do.
In another time and space, Marcos' career as a sailor on various ships engaged in illegal business has lasted for more than 20 years. He once thought that he was a born lucky man. Whether the stowaway boat he was driving was detained by the South Korean Coast Guard; or the smuggling boat he was on encountered an armed patrol ship of the Russian border guard and was hit by a machine gun, spewing fire and smoke and almost took him to see the Sea Dragon King, at least until the end He even saved his life. But he never dreamed that fate would play a big joke in such a strange way, throwing him and everyone on board the Mackerel into a strange world that he has not yet fully understood. When the lifeboat they were in was overturned by wind and waves and fell into the sea, Marcos almost thought he was going to die. Fortunately, he and Aquino, the engineer on the Mackerel, soaked in the sea water for most of the day and finally lost consciousness when they were about to lose consciousness. He was rescued by an Anhai ship bound for Zhongzuo Station. Zheng Zhilong and his men initially regarded these two Filipinos, who were dressed in strange clothes and could not even explain their origins, as spies for the Dutch. Later, they were regarded as associates of the thieves. The two unlucky guys were imprisoned in a water prison and subjected to various tortures in turn. The final conclusion was that they were just two half-mad men talking nonsense, and they neither posed any harm nor were of much use.
If Fernando Marcos had heard about "the skill of slaying dragons", he would understand empathically that this Chinese allusion is a vivid portrayal of his own situation. There is no GPS or Roland navigation station for him to use on the Zheng family's property, and there is no diesel engine or other power equipment that requires Aquino's care and maintenance. They know nothing about the work on the seventeenth-century Chinese sailing ship, and they are not even qualified as sailors. . These two unlucky guys who were of no use to the Zheng family were forced to become the lowest and most humble slave laborers, doing hard labor under the whip of the supervisor. From time to time, someone would use their chrysanthemums to experience the "exotic customs." The inhuman torture continued over the years, and Aquino gradually weakened and eventually died of malaria. If Hare discovered and redeemed Manila because he did not build the cannon foundry on the center-left, Marcos would inevitably follow in his footsteps in the near future: he would die of anger for one reason or another, and his body would be thrown with a stone. Go into the sea and let the fish and shrimp slowly gnaw them into bones.
The sound of the water wheel squeaking and turning, and the noise of metal and various blunt objects hitting each other getting closer and closer, pulled Marcos out of the terrifying fantasy about his future. The wooden door of the factory is open, and the factory's products and semi-finished products are listed in the open space next to the door wall. Marcos looked out from under the hood of the car, and saw a row of artillery barrels shining with blue light lying there. These are bronze cannons that were recently dismantled from various forts in Manila and Galen ships. After being polished and washed, the bores were milled with a hydraulic milling machine, and then the rifling was pulled out by a rifling machine.
Not far away there is a row of bronze cannons that have not yet been dismantled and are mounted on two-wheel gun mounts. These artillery are field guns of the Spanish garrison and will also undergo similar modifications.
Although the level of national education in the Philippines in the 20th century was limited, and Marcos had never operated a gun during his illegal career, he still understood the concept of rifled weapons shooting more accurately than smoothbore weapons and shooting farther.
Some brand new cannons were resting under bamboo sheds farther away. The black, thick one like a soda bottle is the cast iron heavy cannon that will be equipped with the fortress, and the smaller blue-gray one is the copper field cannon. There are not many in number and they look sparse. Several workers are doing heavy grinding and cleaning work around the cannon body. (To be continued...)
