Ding! Ding!
Klein rode the bicycle Repade had just finished, circling the lawn behind his house a few times.
“Not bad, it's exactly what I imagined. However, it’s not necessary to have a separate bell. The rider can hardly take a hand off to ring it. You could combine the bell with the handlebar. It’s more convenient, simpler, and aligns with the natural evolution of things.” Klein squeezed the brakes with his right hand, slowly bringing the bicycle to a stop.
At the same time, he put the handbell he was holding in his left hand back to its original position.
Repade pondered for a few seconds and said: “Right, that’s indeed how it should be. I simply imitated the bells on carriages and forgot that this is an entirely new mode of transportation.”
Saying this, he looked at Klein, who nimbly dismounted and set up the kickstand, with slight confusion: “You give me the impression that you’ve ridden a similar vehicle before, and you ride it very well… I’m sure there are many flaws in other bicycles on the market that are significantly different from mine.”
Have you heard of shared bikes? As a Clown, I should actually be riding a unicycle… Klein silently grumbled a few times, then smiled slightly, saying: “It has nothing to do with experience. Excellent balance and athletic ability are the keys.”
He quickly changed the subject. “But from what you just said, the cost is quite high. It somewhat contradicts the positioning of our product. You must come up with a plan quickly to lower the cost. You know, nobles, tycoons, and other high-society people with status definitely won't choose to ride a bicycle themselves; it lacks dignity. The same goes for the middle class, those earning over 300 pounds a year.”
“Our target is the minor clerks, the postmen, and the so-called ‘aristocrats of labor,’ the classes earning between 70 and 300 pounds a year.”
“This is just a ‘prototype,’ hmm, a word invented by His Majesty Emperor Roselle. It’s only natural for the cost to be high. If the factory production goes smoothly, I believe it can be brought down to under 6 pounds without issue. If we can find a cheap material to replace natural rubber, even better. That’s the most expensive part,” Repade replied, having already given it thought.
Unfortunately, this world hasn't discovered petroleum yet… or perhaps it doesn't even exist… Could distilled coal tar replace it in some functions? I completely don't understand. I didn't study this field, nor am I a Savant… Klein thought for a while and said: “If the cost can be controlled to under 4 pounds, we will be rich. As for a cheap material to replace natural rubber, you can look through Emperor Roselle's manuscripts. Perhaps he recorded some ideas.”
Repade gave a soft “Mm,” and suddenly said: “Speaking of which, this made me remember that there's an exhibition commemorating Emperor Roselle next week! It's at the National Museum! It’s hosted by the Church of Steam and Machinery. They say there will be Emperor Roselle's original invention manuscripts and various relics.”
Original invention manuscripts and various relics? Klein’s heart raced. He immediately asked: “What time is it exactly? I’m very interested.”
“From next Tuesday to Friday, from nine in the morning to six in the evening. Although Emperor Roselle was once an enemy of the kingdom, the allure of his legendary life isn't diminished by it.”
“I’ll find time to visit this exhibition.” Klein took out his bulging wallet, pulling out two 10-pound notes and two 5-pound notes. “This is the second installment. Use it to research lowering the costs and to file the most thorough application at the Patent Office. If you don’t have a familiar lawyer, I can introduce one. I’ll give you the final 20 pounds next week. Use it to find new investors and complete the factory production of the product. Of course, I’ll help you contact interested parties as well.”
He had never intended to monopolize the profits of the bicycle. First, he lacked the money for large-scale production. Second, he felt he didn't have enough connections in manufacturing, promotion, and sales. Forcing himself to do it or hiring someone else to do it would take time and effort, and success wasn’t guaranteed—it might even result in a loss. Since that was the case, he might as well bring in new investors with similar resources and channels. Let professionals handle professional matters.
Additionally, and more importantly, doing so would give him the chance to cash out some shares in advance, accumulating some cash for the resources needed for his subsequent promotion to Faceless, so he wouldn’t miss out on anything due to a lack of money.
And I never thought about becoming a bicycle tycoon. My identity is sensitive. Before I become a Faceless, I need to stay away from things that could put me in the public spotlight… I’m going to play the role of a “Magician,” not a “Merchant” or “Factory Owner.” Klein sighed inwardly.
“I know several solicitors.” Repade muttered and took the second installment of the investment. “Why don’t we apply for a loan from a bank? Once we get the patent, I’m sure a bank will lend us money. For example, the Backlund Bank, or the Bachwort Bank.”
“We’re not just introducing investment, but also channels, relationships, and capabilities, understand?” Klein explained with a smile, then put on his hat. “Once the patent is applied for, send me a letter. You know my address.”
………… Over the Sonia Sea, there was an island with a dormant volcano.
Ships with masts and sails came ashore one after another, crowding the not-so-small dock.
The songs, roars, laughter, curses, and cheers of the pirates were a constant din, making the place seem like a carnival of hedonism.
Alger Wilson, the “Hanged Man,” walked down the “Blue Avenger” and climbed a nearby cliff, silently watching it all.
“Apart from the four Kings and the seven Admirals, no other pirates received news of this gathering until a week ago. Most simply couldn’t make it in time. This also serves as a precaution against attacks by the navies and major churches.” Alger’s focus was scattered as he watched the pirates haul out barrels of ale.
He knew that Loen already had its epoch-making ironclads, but he wasn’t worried about encountering them here. It had only been four months. The invincible fleet in the propaganda needed more ironclads, required coordination with different types of ships, and needed to train officers, sailors, and gunners. It would take at least a year before it could form a real fighting force.
Just as Alger’s thoughts wandered, the pirates on the ships and dock suddenly let out cries of surprise. Some ran deep into the island, others scrambled to sail their ships away from the dock, as if fleeing from fiends and plague.
In just a few minutes, the previously bustling and raucous scene was left with nothing but mess and silence.
Alger turned his gaze out to sea and saw a ship painted entirely black. On its mast fluttered a huge white flag emblazoned with a skull.