Munitions Empire

"Line up in three rows, regardless of gender, and arrange yourselves by height, with the shorter ones in front and the taller ones in the back." Roger barked orders at a group of kids who were in complete disarray.

Upon hearing Roger’s shout, some of the older children who apprenticed at the factory immediately started to form lines, while those who came from civilian homes nearby were still a bit chaotic.

However, as some children began to line up, driven by curiosity, others too followed and stood in three rows.

The few girls, who were in the minority, were quite shy and didn’t speak, only standing there with bowed heads among the crowd, getting pushed around by the boys passing by, looking very much like little oppressed creatures.

Tang Mo frowned as he looked at the sparsely lined-up children before him. To tell the truth, he was not pleased with these children, as the lack of education in this world meant these kids, who were not young anymore, had absolutely no sense of discipline.

They were sloppy and incredibly sluggish, and even getting them to assemble had wasted a good fifteen minutes before they stood together in a scattered fashion.

And after these children finally settled down, Tang Mo waited another three to five minutes in silence. Fortunately, the children still possessed an innate fear of Tang Mo, so after a long silence from their teacher, they eventually recalled that fear and quieted down.

The original plan, to have the children bathe in the river and then clean up as much as possible, was thus abandoned amidst the waiting.

"I am Tang Mo! From now on, I’ll be your teacher... My requirement for you is simple, remember! It is I who have given you everything!" Tang Mo said, with his hands behind his back, looking down at the children on the ground.

"Got it..." The younger ones, only seven or eight years old, and the older ones, who were already about as old as Tang Mo, responded cautiously and somewhat unevenly. Clearly, discipline would be the first thing Tang Mo intended to teach these children.

"From now on! You only need to answer ’yes’ or ’no’!" Tang Mo scolded sharply.

"Yes... I mean... yes," a group of children responded, somewhat confused, but fortunately, a few smart ones began to reply as Tang Mo had instructed.

"Your voices must be loud! Otherwise, I can’t hear!" Tang Mo emphasized.

"Yes!" the children immediately yelled in response.

Tang Mo glanced at Old Roger beside him, who had been briefed in advance, so he immediately stood with his hands behind his back and stood tall as he had rehearsed before.

"Roger." Tang Mo nodded at him.

Roger took out the school rules written by Tang Mo, stepped forward with a stern face, unfolded the paper, and read according to the content: "Rule number one, Principal Tang Mo’s commands must be followed."

The children watching nervously fixated on Roger, as he listed the rules they only vaguely understood, unsure of what to do.

Looking around was out of the question, since they didn’t know whether their slight movements could cause them to lose this free opportunity to learn. They were even more cautious than Tang Mo imagined and seemed almost on edge.

Although they lacked discipline, Tang Mo could feel their eagerness to learn. Given some time, Tang Mo was confident that he could turn them into the elites of this era!

Tang Mo watched as Roger shook his head and babbled on, and he couldn’t help but smirk internally. Roger had spent three days memorizing these words since he was completely illiterate; he was only pretending to read from the paper. Yet the children didn’t know this, and seeing Roger mutter to the paper instilled a sense of reverence and fear in them.

The school rules, comprising just over two hundred words, were not very long, so by the time Old Roger finished reading them, some of the older apprentices had realized that they were about to begin a new and terrifying journey. The rules were not particularly special; they were just severe enough to instill fear.

Each rule was followed by strict punishment measures, ranging from being hit on the palm with a cane to being put in solitary confinement. They covered everything.

For example, Rule seven stated: "Anyone who refuses to execute Tang Mo’s commands will be placed in solitary confinement for three days and expelled from the school never to be re-admitted."

And Rule nine was: "Those who steal or commit other illegal acts will be placed in solitary confinement for one day and expelled from the school."

The reason for repeated reference to expulsion was that Tang Mo did not want any harmful elements in his school.

On the one hand, this provision was intended to deter students and parents; on the other hand, it allowed him to promptly remove any bad influences, ensuring the quality of his students.

Since he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to implement compulsory education, he took advantage of this rather self-indulgent opportunity to heavily discipline these unruly kids, letting them experience the warmth of ’spiritual infusion therapy’!

The older children who were factory apprentices knew Tang Mo’s temperament, so they understood that the rules recited were not to be taken lightly, as many of these regulations had already been reflected in the factory’s discipline code.

"We’ll assemble again tomorrow, and I’ll give you just one minute! Do you understand?" Tang Mo said with his hands behind his back, his tone strict.

"Yes!" The older apprentices answered loudly once again.

"We’ve already wasted too much time today." Tang Mo did not show the satisfaction he felt inside. He glanced at Old Roger beside him and ordered, "I’ll leave the rest of the time to you! Memorize these school rules! Only after you’ve memorized them may you leave! Roger, Wes... make sure they memorize them.

Those who leave without doing so don’t need to come back ever!"

A group of children stood frozen on the spot, utterly clueless why they had to memorize the school rules to leave. They watched Tang Mo leave indifferently and then realized they might be in deep trouble.

Having been sent here by their elders to study, they obviously couldn’t just go back—if they couldn’t deliver the goods, they would undoubtedly get a beating.

The problem was, if it were just a beating, they could endure and get past it. But if the school didn’t go down in flames one day, the comparative mindset of the family elders wouldn’t fade, and they’d have no good days ahead!

So, deserting was not an option; they had no choice but to stay, no matter how much they dreaded it. After all, they were only teenagers—how many of them truly had the guts to rebel?

But memorizing these things was clearly a tall order—some of them could barely recognize a few characters!

However, it was obvious that Roger and Wes were prepared. They split the group in half, leading each half to a relatively quiet corner.

Then they explained the rules and began to read the school rules aloud, over and over, like a chant.

After reading aloud five times, they would pause and ask if there were any students who had memorized them. Seeing no response, they would start again, tirelessly repeating the process.

Back in the office, Tang Mo began to lay out the data Roger had collected door to door the day before, carefully planning everything.

Getting these kids to study was not an easy task. Besides promising free education, he also had to arrange a reasonable study schedule for them.

This wasn’t an era where education was universally valued—children were also a part of the workforce for a family. Many kids apprenticed in factories or helped with farm work at home, all with lots of work to do.

Moreover, Tang Mo didn’t have a full set of qualified teachers to establish a full-time school for these children. He lacked adequate space, enough teachers, and even he himself didn’t have enough time!

Thus, the best solution was to stagger their schedules, and arranging such timing was now his responsibility.

Plus, according to Tang Mo’s plan, it wasn’t just about learning cultural knowledge for these kids. They needed to carve out time for physical training, and for those with great talent, Tang Mo even planned to train them intently, turning them into his trusted aides.

In short, everything was just a beginning, and they all had to keep working hard towards the set goals for the future.

Tang Mo rubbed his neck, turned his head, and glanced at some blueprints beside him. He sighed in frustration and bent over his desk to busy himself with work once more.

On the temporarily leveled ground, a test for these children was still ongoing. Wes felt his throat going dry, and yet, none of the youngsters in front of him had memorized these damned school rules.

Roger was not faring much better, but the smarter thing he did was to bring a water bottle...

"Article, article fifty-one, unity, comradeship... mutual assistance, one must not, must not abandon classmates..." Finally, after another hour or so, the little apprentice who helped Tang Mo make cartridge nests was the first to recite the school rules, finishing the first assignment set by Tang Mo.

He became the first candidate for class leader selected for Tang Mo by Roger. Then a young girl also managed to recite the entire school rules, becoming the second class leader candidate.

When Roger and Wes finally watched those new students memorize the school rules and, exhausted, returned to Tang Mo’s office, Tang Mo was discussing the new factory details with Mathews.

"The lines for the new factory need to be redone. Renovating the old ones is simply a waste of time. We aim to do our best and find a way to avoid any changes for two years at least," Tang Mo pointed at the blueprint and emphasized to Mathews.

"Two years?" Mathews was taken aback, then looked at Tang Mo with full confidence.

"What, too long?" Tang Mo was also startled, thinking Mathews was even more aggressive than himself.

Mathews scoffed at Tang Mo and corrected what he saw as Tang Mo’s "erroneous" thinking: "I mean it’s too short! You know Shireck’s factory, it might not see any changes in ten years."

"Ten years? You’ve got to be joking. Believe me, Mathews! The machines you treasure now will be museum pieces in ten years," Tang Mo put an arm around Mathews’s shoulder, persuasively urging.

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