At 7:45 in the morning, inside the large conference room on the third floor of the United Industry headquarters building, more than half of the seats on both sides of the long table were still empty.
The secretaries responsible for preparation were busy with their heads down; some were preparing coffee, while others opened the curtains to let the sunlight in, making the dark tabletop shine.
At 7:50, the head and technical director of Daimler were the first to arrive.
Upon entering, the two first glanced at the still-empty main seat, then found their nameplates and sat down.
They were closely followed by the heads and key technical personnel of Borgward, Mercedes, Demag, and other enterprises.
Having received the notice in the early hours of the morning, these individuals all carried the weariness of insufficient sleep on their faces to some extent, but no one was late.
Because being woken up in the middle of the night and notified of a temporary meeting early the next morning was a signal in itself.
At eight o'clock on the dot.
The conference room door was pushed open from the outside.
Cecilia walked in.
Unlike her usual graceful and luxurious noblewoman look at the manor, today she wore a crisply tailored dark gray suit—a "new trend" recently emerging among European women.
The suit, which had a certain "women's business suit" style, made Cecilia look even more astute, and her overall styling was becoming more "modernized."
If Morin had seen her in this outfit, he would definitely exclaim something like "Top-tier OL" (Office Lady).
Cecilia wore her long blonde hair pinned back, looking far too energetic for someone who had slept for a little over three hours.
Luna, also wearing a suit, followed half a step behind her, holding a kraft paper folder, and closed the door.
Outside the door, a middle-aged man in a suit with one empty sleeve gave a look to several burly men dressed as bodyguards beside him.
These "elite bodyguards," trained by disabled veterans from the instruction unit, quickly took up their respective positions.
After Morin left, the two disabled instruction unit veterans he hired had trained the Falkenstein Manor bodyguards to the bone.
But this also greatly increased their combat effectiveness, giving them a multitude of skills that traditional bodyguards and thugs simply did not possess.
Especially in terms of firearms shooting...
Since Cecilia had Helga stay at the manor permanently, she simply cleared out a small workshop and shooting range for her.
The manor bodyguards often used their shooting practice to act as test shooters for Helga's new weapons.
Although somewhat dangerous, it ensured these bodyguards were well-fed with bullets...
As one of the "head bodyguards," Fisher, with his crippled left hand, was also extremely grateful to Morin and Cecilia for taking care of him and his family.
After all, with prices constantly rising due to the war, the disability pension he received had shrunk significantly. The job at the Falkenstein Manor provided him with a new source of income, and the work itself was well within his "comfort zone."
Therefore, in terms of "loyalty," Fisher and his companion were arguably on par with, if not higher than, active-duty personnel of the instruction unit.
And regarding the security work Morin assigned, the two of them executed it flawlessly...
Fisher had even chatted with the one-legged Dunn about whether they could open a professional security company after the war ended.
When Cecilia sat in the main seat of the conference room, everyone stopped what they were doing almost simultaneously, and the few executives conversing in low voices automatically fell silent.
Cecilia skipped the pleasantries, taking a document Luna handed her and spreading it out.
"Gentlemen, I won't beat around the bush."
She swept her gaze over those present and continued at a steady pace:
"An urgent request has come back from the front lines—we need to deliver a batch of radiant crystal-powered vehicles to the Balkan front within five days."
As she spoke, Luna handed the relevant documents to the executives.
"The specific quantities of each model and the supporting requirements are all in there."
The head of Mercedes was the first to reach out and take the document. After a quick glance, he frowned.
"Madam Falkenstein, with only five days, isn't this quantity a bit too much..."
He passed the document to the Borgward executive next to him, who looked up after reading it.
"If we are to gather all these within five days, we'll have to intercept the entire batch of new vehicles rolling off the assembly line these next two days, and suspend the orders currently undergoing the military delivery process."
"I understand."
Cecilia's answer was crisp.
"So my opinion is that all companies stop delivering the latest radiant crystal trucks to the military these next few days, and divert everything into the stockpiling process for this urgent frontline request."
Franz tapped his finger on the tabletop twice.
"Madam, doing this... won't the military have a problem with it? The delivery contracts we signed with the Army Logistics Department have clear timelines and breach clauses."
"You don't need to worry about that."
Cecilia spoke flatly.
"His Highness the Crown Prince is personally coordinating this matter, and the General Staff will use a special approval channel."
As soon as this sentence came out, the expressions of the several men present changed.
Since the Crown Prince was personally coordinating, what more was there to say? Just give it to them.
No matter what level of military order it was, as long as the Crown Prince and the General Staff made special arrangements, no bureaucrat in the Logistics or Armaments Departments would dare use contract clauses to stall things.
The head of Demag was the first to state his stance: "Whatever the headquarters arranges, we will execute."
The Mercedes representative nodded along: "In that case, we'll revise our plans as soon as we get back. We can submit the interception list this afternoon."
The Daimler representative considered it for a few seconds and finally said no more.
"No problem on Daimler's end. We have a batch of heavy trucks that just finished testing on hand, which can be prioritized and allocated."
Hearing this, Cecilia nodded, then turned her gaze to the two representatives from Borgward.
The latter flipped through the document in hand and raised a practical question: "Madam Falkenstein, how will the transportation be arranged? If by rail, we can coordinate with the dispatch office ourselves, but the priority for military trains..."
"I can get the approval documents for military train dispatch before this afternoon. Since the General Staff has made special arrangements, there won't be any problems in this regard."
Cecilia interrupted him, then added:
"If you gentlemen have any other questions, say them all now."
The executives looked at each other; no one spoke up.
"Once you get back, begin preparations immediately. Report your progress to headquarters every six hours... Luna will be responsible for liaison; go directly to her if you have any problems."
Seeing no one intended to speak, Cecilia cleanly ended the meeting.
"Then that's all. Meeting adjourned."
The sound of chairs moving rose and fell. The executives picked up their respective documents and filed out of the conference room.
When the back of the last person disappeared through the doorway, only Cecilia and Luna were left in the large conference room.
But Cecilia didn't get up to leave.
She sat in the main seat, resting her chin on one hand, staring at the open telegram copy on the table, her brows furrowed.
Luna put away her folder, walked over, and noticed her state.
"Madam, what's wrong?"
"That guy Friedrich..."
Cecilia tapped her finger on the list of vehicles in the telegram.
"He only thinks about wanting vehicles. Has he considered whether there are enough drivers and maintenance personnel? Or does he think these come free with the vehicles from the manufacturer?"
Luna was taken aback for a moment, then realized: "A manpower issue?"
"Yes."
Cecilia leaned back in her chair, crossing her hands on her lap.
"Sending so many vehicles to the front lines—someone has to drive them, right? The military's driver roster is already stretched thin; it's even more impossible for the frontline troops to conjure up so many qualified drivers out of thin air."
Standing beside her, Luna quickly ran through the situation in her mind.
This was indeed an overlooked critical point.
Since radiant crystal-powered vehicles were inducted into the military on a large scale starting last year, production capacity had been climbing.
After the relevant patents Morin developed were purchased by other manufacturers, more and more enterprises in the Empire, besides the vehicle manufacturers under United Industry, threw themselves into producing new vehicles, deriving more and more excellent designs.
Thus, the number of radiant crystal vehicles delivered every month was indeed steadily rising.
Coupled with the fact that the improved radiant crystal vehicles had gradually proven their worth, the military's orders were growing larger, showing a strong trend of accelerating the army's "motorization."
But the ensuing problem was that the training cycle for qualified drivers couldn't keep up with the speed of vehicle delivery.
Radiant crystal-powered trucks weren't like traditional horse-drawn carriages. Although easier to operate than being a professional coachman, it wasn't something just anyone could jump in and drive.
Especially in a battlefield environment, skilled drivers who could drive stably through muddy roads, artillery zones, and night marches were extremely scarce resources.
"Madam, should we remind Young Master Friedrich in the reply telegram?"
"What's the use of just reminding him? Where is he supposed to conjure up drivers on the front lines? Besides, didn't he send the telegram to me exactly so I could solve this problem for him? That little rascal..."
Cecilia stood up and paced the conference room.
"The test drivers, test pilots, and training department instructors from the subsidiaries under United Industry—Luna, help me count how many of these people we can mobilize."
Luna's pen stopped recording in her notebook.
"Madam, are you sending company personnel to the front lines?"
"No, no, no, not to the front lines to fight... The professional combat drivers will definitely be provided by the military," Cecilia corrected her.
"Our people will go along with the vehicles and be responsible for basic preparation and maintenance in the rear. After all, most of them will be new vehicles ready for delivery; who knows if there will be any minor issues."
"Sigh... Friedrich didn't consider this point, so I have to clean up after him."
"These people will be paid ten times their usual salary, plus additional combat zone subsidies. In case of accidents, they will receive overseas field duty pension benefits."
"After they arrive, just like when we collaborated with the military before, the military will confirm their subsequent arrangements..."
"But before that, I need to confirm first if the military can accept this kind of arrangement."
She paused.
"Help me contact the Armaments Department of the Army General Staff. See if they have time to meet today to discuss this issue. After all, we don't have much time either."
"Yes, Madam."
Luna closed her notebook and walked quickly out of the conference room.
Cecilia sat back down in her chair, picked up the telegram copy, and read it again.
Her gaze finally rested on the last line at the bottom.
"Everything is going well, don't worry."
She put the paper down, muttering softly: "Those kinds of words are only good for fooling some little girl..."
The Balkan Peninsula, Fifth Army Group new headquarters.
Influenced by the biological clock developed during his time in the Balkans, Morin opened his eyes punctually at 6:00 AM local time.
Staring at the roof of the tent and then glancing at the time on his watch, Morin felt like a robot; he had completely lost the desire to sleep in.
This gave him a bit of a sense of crisis. After all, losing desires wasn't exactly a good thing...
"I can skip sleeping in... but please don't let me lose my other desires. If a man can't get excited, what's the difference between him and a salted fish?"
Morin propped himself up on the camp bed and rubbed his face, noticing the sounds of people coming and going outside the tent were much louder than last night.
Pulling back the tent flap to look, the army group headquarters camp was a bustling scene.
Several staff officers with documents tucked under their arms were weaving between the tents, communications soldiers were running off into the distance carrying spools of wire, and a squad of cavalry rode in from the woodland entrance south of the camp, likely returning from the front lines.
After washing his face and briefly tidying his uniform, Morin walked out of the tent and learned that the Crown Prince and Chief of Staff weren't up yet.
Morin wasn't surprised by this. After all, people's constitutions cannot be generalized; not everyone possessed a superhuman physique like his.
Moreover, commanding an army group in battle consumed a considerable amount of energy. Those two probably hadn't rested well these past few days, so sleeping in a little longer now wasn't a big issue.
After all, there were so many professional officers in the army group headquarters capable of keeping the entire army group running normally according to the commander's last directive.
Finding that he had seemingly woken up too early and had nothing to do for the moment, Morin simply walked towards the camp's officer mess tent.
Since he ate quite well last night, Morin just had a simple breakfast.
According to his observations of his own body during this period, after the modification potion stopped frantically boosting his physical strength like "fast-growing pig feed" as it did initially, his daily energy consumption was actually no longer as exaggerated as at the very beginning.
Although with the substantial increase in muscle, bone, and organ strength, the energy he needed to consume daily was far higher than a normal person's... and after engaging in combat and casting spells, the energy consumption would further increase, it at least wasn't as terrifying as before.
Currently, under normal circumstances, Morin's energy intake was roughly 2-3 times that of an ordinary instruction unit soldier, and in a combat state, his energy intake would soar to over 3 times.
For Morin, this was naturally a good thing, otherwise, he would have to spend extra time eating every day...
Morin kept eating until Crown Prince Georg and Major General Knobelsdorff woke up. After the two finished their meals, they returned to the main tent together.
The sandbox had many more new markings compared to last night; it seemed the staff officers had updated it early in the morning.
An operations staff officer also gave everyone a morning briefing.
Since last night, the reconnaissance cavalry scattered by the army group had successively confirmed the breakout direction of the Serbian Second Army Group.
Currently, this massive army, whose structure hadn't been completely broken, was attempting to bypass the far right flank of the Saxon Fifth Army Group and retreat through the mountainous region back into the Kingdom of Greater Serbia.
The good news was that their structure had been severely damaged during the breakout process. As it stood, at least several combat units of regimental size or larger had fallen behind or scattered.
"And the bad news?" the Crown Prince asked.
"The bad news is, the Austro-Hungarian friend..."
The Chief of Staff, who had read the briefing beforehand, took over the officer's words, but paused, seemingly weighing his phrasing.
"The Austro-Hungarian troops, after cutting off the pontoon bridges, their subsequent pursuit operations have been rather... slow."
Morin immediately understood the meaning behind this "slow."
Ah... when hitting supply trains we howl and charge, but when pursuing combat troops our legs turn to jelly—this perfectly aligned with his understanding of the Austro-Hungarian Army in this world.
"Therefore, regarding this military intelligence, what we need to discuss next is actually just one question..."
Crown Prince Georg, arms crossed, looked at the sandbox before him and said:
"Should we commit more troops to encircle and annihilate the breaking-out Serbian Second Army Group?"
Morin looked at the small flags representing the Serbian Second Army Group located on the army group's right flank on the sandbox, then looked at the positions of the Crown Prince Army Group's various units.
"Your Highness, my suggestion is—pursue but do not annihilate."
Hearing Morin's voice, Crown Prince Georg and Major General Knobelsdorff both looked at him.
"Let the frontline troops maintain pressure, and send cavalry and several highly mobile light units to continuously bite at them, but do not commit the main force to fight a war of annihilation."
Morin gestured on the sandbox.
"There are three reasons...
First, the enemy troops breaking out have the strongest will to fight. If we force it, our losses won't be small.
Second, even if these routed soldiers escape back, they won't have the capacity to launch another offensive in the short term.
Third..."
He looked up at the two.
"Our main force needs to maintain its complete combat effectiveness to prepare for the upcoming operations."
Georg pondered for a few seconds, then looked at the Chief of Staff.
Major General Knobelsdorff pushed up his glasses and nodded.
"I agree with Colonel Morin's judgment... Rather than spending energy trying to encircle and annihilate a routed army that has already lost its offensive capabilities, it's better to concentrate our forces and prepare for the next step."
"Alright then, let's do it this way. The Army Group Operations Department will formulate the relevant plans."
Georg made the final decision. This was also one of the reasons Morin quite liked this superior—he could listen to his subordinates' opinions and had the resolve to make decisions.
"Another thing is the issue of coordinating railway transport."
Major General Knobelsdorff took the folder from the officer, who saluted and left the tent.
"Regarding our upcoming strategic maneuver, we need to borrow the railway lines within the Austro-Hungarian Empire for transport... Although the Imperial General Staff has already conducted overall communication with Vienna, when it comes down to coordination at the theater level..."
The Chief of Staff didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was obvious.
High-level coordination was one thing, execution on the ground was another.
The chaos of the Austro-Hungarian railway dispatch system had already been demonstrated during the Vienna uprising.
"Leave this to me. I will contact the relevant officials directly... I also need to confirm with them about continuing to lay railways toward the front lines to obtain armored train support. For the upcoming siege battles, having armored trains provide fire support will yield twice the result with half the effort."
Crown Prince Georg proactively took this matter upon himself.
While marveling that the Saxon war beasts were finally being mobilized, Morin also realized that among the three in the tent, he seemed to be the most idle one?
The Crown Prince seemed to read something from Morin's expression and immediately smiled at him, saying:
"Lord Friedrich, you just get a good rest with the instruction unit these next few days. You don't need to worry about anything else. You'll be busy enough later."
As the three were discussing the specific details of railway coordination, footsteps suddenly sounded outside the tent.
A communications officer from the army group headquarters jogged in, first saluting the Crown Prince and Chief of Staff, then turning to look at Morin.
"Colonel Morin, a special envoy from home has just arrived at the camp. They were sent by the Imperial Magitech Research Institute... The party holds a special pass from the Imperial General Staff."
Morin was slightly taken aback. He clearly didn't expect the Imperial Magitech Research Institute to seek him out at this time.
Georg didn't show a surprised expression. He glanced at Morin and nodded.
"Lord Friedrich, go meet him. I received a notification from home earlier... Hmm, it's related to your previous operation."
Morin nodded, then followed the communications officer out, being led to another tent nearby. A few minutes later, the tent flap was lifted again.
A familiar figure wearing the robes of the Saxon Imperial Magitech Research Institute walked in. Morin immediately recognized the person by his "strongman" hairstyle.
"Oh, Master Haber?"
The newcomer was precisely Fritz Haber—the 4th-circle Conjuration school mage of the Imperial Magitech Research Institute, the one who had delved deep into the underground laboratory in Paris with Morin and injected him with the modification potion during an emergency.
He could be called the "instigator" behind Morin's current massive appetite.
Upon seeing Morin, Master Haber smiled, his aura not much different from when they last met.
"Friedrich!"
Haber strode over, reaching out to shake Morin's hand firmly.
"Ha! You look really good—the participants in our institute's project were worried the frontline rations wouldn't be able to support your metabolism."
"Master, I actually can't eat as much as before... By the way, why did you come over so suddenly?"
Morin was genuinely a bit surprised. He pulled over two folding chairs and sat face-to-face with Haber.
Although Master Haber's strength displayed during the Paris operation was impressive, given the Saxon Empire's style of doing things, the other party should be staying in a research facility in the rear.
"I didn't come here with nothing to do. The matter I brought this time is directly related to you."
Master Haber took a leather folder from the inner pocket of his robe, placing it on his lap without rushing to open it.
"That vial of stuff you were injected with in the underground laboratory in Paris—the 'Second-Generation Sentinel Modification Potion'—the institute has been doing follow-up analysis and research on it recently."
Hearing this, Morin immediately sat up straight. After all, aside from his "built-in hack," this was one of the biggest changes that had happened to him since transmigrating.
That vial of potion had caused a qualitative leap in his physical attributes; strength, reaction speed, and recovery ability were all massively enhanced, and even his perception range had increased.
"Any new progress?"
"More than just new progress."
Haber's expression was somewhat complex, seemingly half excited and half cautious.
"Based on the massive amounts of blood samples extracted from your body, as well as the data brought back from Paris, we have preliminarily completed the reverse analysis of the potion."
"Although we cannot completely replicate this 'modification potion' yet, the first batch of experimental improved serum has already been synthesized under laboratory conditions."
Hearing the other's words, Morin couldn't sit still anymore.
"Holy crap, you guys actually replicated it?"
"To be precise, it's 'improved'," Master Haber corrected.
"The effects of the original modification potion were too brutal, with extremely high side effects and risks—we believe a large part of the reason you survived it was luck."
Regarding these words from Master Haber, Morin agreed with the first half; the side effects and risks of the "Second-Generation Sentinel Modification Potion" were indeed extremely high.
But Morin didn't agree with the second half.
The 'built-in hack' I'm so proud of, you guys call it 'good luck'?
"The institute has made extensive modifications and optimizations, reducing the risk of sudden death upon injection, but the enhancement effects certainly won't match the original version in your body."
"By the way, because it was developed based on your serum, the first batch is limited in quantity. We have currently extracted fewer than 40 vials."
"However, the institute believes we can continue to extract the next generation of modification potions using the serum from this batch of modified individuals. Although the modification effects will further decrease, the yield can be significantly increased..."
Morin remained silent for a few seconds. He naturally understood what this meant.
If the Saxon Empire could mass-produce this serum—even a diluted version—then the individual combat capabilities of a portion of the Army's elite units would experience a leap in improvement.
Even if this modification serum were diluted to the point where it could only provide "mana affinity," relying on a massive number of "mana affinity" soldiers would be enough to cause earth-shattering changes in the Army's combat capabilities.
Master Haber didn't notice Morin's change in expression. Instead, he opened the leather folder on his lap, pulled out a document, handed it to Morin, and continued speaking:
"Colonel Morin, the main reason I came to find you this time is because there's a prerequisite: the recipients of the first generation of 'modification serum' cannot be just anyone."
Morin took the document and opened it. Inside was a technical manual regarding the serum injection, detailing some simple parameters, indicators, and precautions.
"According to our research and clinical trials, the serum demands extremely high baseline physical attributes from the recipient... Ordinary adult males face the risk of sudden death upon using this serum."
Master Haber reached out and tapped the document he had handed to Morin.
"And it's not just physical attributes—psychological resilience, stress tolerance, combat experience... these seemingly unquantifiable factors have a very significant impact on survival rates and ultimate effects in actual testing."
He looked up, gazing seriously at Morin.
"Colonel Morin, you understand what I mean, right?"
"So you want to pick people from my instruction unit?"
"I know this indeed carries great risks, and you are currently still fighting in the Balkan Peninsula. But currently, the batch of soldiers with the best quality in the Imperial Army is indeed under your command, so I hope you will consider it, Colonel Morin..."