Kaahn winked at Akça after finishing his sentence and moved toward the bustling production area at the front of the warehouse.
This first section of the warehouse was filled with a commercial chaos that would completely dispel the suspicions of any passing Palsur inspector. Lined up across wide wooden tables were completely hand-powered mechanical tools that incredibly sped up the preparation of food and desserts in the Mayard branches. Workers were stacking sacks of flour, starch, and sugar on one side, while testing hand blenders, crank mixers, and dough-kneading mechanisms made of stainless metals on the other.
Akça walked over to a cylindrical brass tool with a lever attached to it. When she turned the handle, she watched the multiple blades inside spin rapidly.
"This is... truly genius," Akça said, watching the rotation of the gears with admiration. "They can prepare the creams and sauces that kitchen chefs spend hours whipping up in just minutes, thanks to these hand-powered blenders. So, the secret behind Mayard's remarkably fast service lies within these mechanical kitchen tools."
Kaahn broke the shell of a few fresh pistachios he picked out from a sack and smiled faintly. "It's not just speed, Akça, it's also standardization. The noble in the capital and the merchant in Sihera both want to eat their desserts with the exact same consistency. While the chefs in the Palsur palace are still pounding ingredients with raw muscle power, our apprentices in the kitchen produce the kingdom's most elite flavors just by turning a handle. But of course..." Kaahn lowered his voice a bit more and tossed the pistachio into his mouth. "...these little toys are merely a camouflage for the massive beasts hidden in the back."
Kaahn walked toward a massive iron door hidden behind the flour sacks, secured with a heavy padlock. Producing a brass key from his pocket, he unlocked it and slowly pushed the door open.
As they stepped inside, the damp, thick scent of machine oil and cold iron filled Akça's nose. This was the secret compartment prepared for the main large shipment—the one bound for the Namtab Mountains. Beneath the tarps lay gears of intimidating size, colossal shafts, and hydraulic press molds that looked nothing like the blenders in the kitchen.
Akça walked among the crates and tarps, completely spellbound. She ran her hand along the cast-iron body of a massive press machine.
"Alright, Kaahn," Akça said, turning around to look straight into his eyes. "Let's say we set up the factory and run these massive mechanisms with the waterwheel. The drills will bore the barrels, and the presses will stamp out the rifle frames. But what I really want to ask is: What about the ammunition? A firearm is nothing more than a pile of iron without those small metal pieces inside. How are we going to manufacture thousands of bullets? And with identical measurements? The slightest millimeter of error would cause the rifle to explode in our hands."
Kaahn stepped closer to Akça with his trademark sly, confident grin. "That is precisely where the true miracle of the factory comes into play, Akça. Ammunition production consists of two main parts: the casing and the bullet core. And we won't be casting any of them one by one by hand."
Kaahn lifted another tarp, revealing a thick steel plate with hundreds of small, cylindrical holes drilled side by side.
"This right here is the bullet mold for the hydraulic press machine," he began to explain. "We will feed the soft brass and copper plates we brought from Palsur under this massive press. The ton-heavy mechanical hammer powered by the waterwheel will deliver a strike into this mold. In a matter of seconds, hundreds of flawless casings will be stamped out, identical in length and thickness. The lead cores, on the other hand, will be cut down to the millimeter by rotating hydraulic wheels where molten metal is automatically forged and shaped. For the primers, which are the most critical part, we will use a fulminated mercury mixture secretly brought from the academy of chemistry. So, the entire operation is a complete chain of automation."
Akça felt backed into a corner by this exceptionally detailed and technical answer. Seeing that Kaahn had solved not just the weapons, but even their finest ammunition details on paper months in advance shook her. Still, refusing to back down before his overwhelmingly confident genius, she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.
"So, all that's left is to fill it with gunpowder and assemble the casing and core," Akça murmured. "Your plan works flawlessly, Prince Regent. However, you are overlooking one single thing." Akça stepped away from the press machine and stood directly in front of Kaahn. Turning her gaze to the bullet mold, she continued: "For machines to operate at this speed and precision, the metal must also be of the exact same standard. The hardness of the copper and brass plates we receive from Palsur varies with every shipment. If the hydraulic hammer strikes with the same tonnage, even if a casing from a harder plate turns out just a tenth of a millimeter too thick, the bullet will jam in the barrel. Or the casing will crack if the plate is too soft. That leads straight to the disaster scenario you mentioned—the rifle exploding in the soldier's hand."
The sly grin on Kaahn's face vanished, replaced by a focused and appreciative seriousness. He wasn't surprised that Akça had caught onto one of the greatest pitfalls of mechanical production—metallurgical standardization—so quickly, but he was impressed nonetheless.
"You're right," Kaahn said, completely suppressing the commanding tone in his voice, speaking only in that intimate manner reserved for Akça. "The metals forged by the Palsur blacksmiths are not homogeneous. That is why in the basement of this very warehouse in Sihera, I keep two mechanical hydraulic testing levers disguised to the outside world as 'dessert syrup measurement devices.' Every metal plate bound for Namtab will first undergo hardness and elasticity tests here. The ones below standard will be filtered out and set aside to be melted down for Mayard's kitchen utensil production. Only the perfect ones will be transported to the mountains."
Seeing this additional precaution, Akça realized that Kaahn was truly closing every loophole as he moved forward. As the heavy weight of anxiety lifted slightly from her shoulders, she shook her head gently without breaking her stance.
"You've covered every base," Akça muttered, crossing her arms and casting her eyes slightly to the side. "But if you catch a cold and fall ill while setting up these massive machines in the freezing and unforgiving mountains of Namtab, even that flawless logistics network you trust so much won't be able to take the throne in your place. Being a genius doesn't shield you from the cold, Kaahn. As always, you forget to take care of yourself."
Kaahn smiled quietly at her protective, reproachful, yet completely sincere scolding. These sudden outbursts from Akça and her way of caring for him above everything else in the world were the only things that lightened the heavy burden of the kingdom on his shoulders.
"Don't worry, Akça,"Kaahn said, taking a half-step closer to her. "As long as I have a genius, attentive partner like you to clean up after me, nothing will happen to me—not in those mountains, and certainly not in these palace intrigues. Now, let's lay out those secret blueprints and the workers' shift schedules on the table, and plan how we are going to turn these gears without Palsur ever catching wind of it."