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Chapter 116: Strategic Scientific Reserve
"What, Mr. Howard Stark, the genius scientist, also has materials he doesn't recognize?" Colonel Phillips, who had frequently been mocked by Howard, seized the opportunity to strike back at him.
Howard Stark was seen examining the circular shield in his hand. Just as he was about to use a fruit knife on the table to scratch the shield's surface, Phillips stopped him again. "Wait a moment, Howard. After you watch this video, you can take it back and study it at your leisure."
Colonel Phillips took a reel of film from his bag and handed it to Howard. Howard glanced at Phillips, then took the film and replied, "Alright, let me see what surprise you have prepared for me."
He walked over to a nearby projector and, after some adjustments, a scene of war slowly unfolded on the screen.
The recorded footage was short but incredibly shocking. Giant war tanks, resembling bunkers, instilled a deep sense of oppression.
There was also the Gustav Cannon mentioned in the documentary, which was over 40 meters long and weighed 1,350 tons. The shells it fired often weighed several tons themselves, standing much taller than a person when upright.
Additionally, there were high-tech weapons, such as the Karl-GerƤt mortar.
These weapons not only featured technology far beyond current scientific levels, but they also shared a common characteristic: they were all adorned with Nazi swastikas and monster patterns resembling a nine-headed octopus.
"This documentary shows footage of an organization called HYDRA, based in Germany, attacking Guernica, Spain, not long ago. This organization is not to be underestimated; they have a large number of top scientists, and these weapons are their masterpieces."
"These weapons are impressive," Howard replied, "but they merely increase the amount of gunpowder and enhance power, which isn't worth showcasing. If it were up to me, I could do better. So, Colonel Phillips, please state your purpose. Why have you come to me?"
"Of course, I have my reasons for seeking you out," Colonel Phillips said, reclaiming the film.
This time, he showed the shield to Howard, using the opportunity to emphasize the footage of HYDRA attacking Guernica with high-tech weapons.
He strongly invited Howard to jointly establish the "Strategic Scientific Reserve" to counter the pressure posed by the German Academy of Sciences in the war.
Colonel Phillips's actions were entirely at the behest of President Roosevelt. Initially, he had also invited George, but George had outright refused his offer.
However, obtaining some research and development equipment support from George was still a positive outcome.
Moreover, compared to Howard Stark's achievements in weapon development, George was perceived as more talented in bio-genetic engineering, at least in the eyes of the outside world.
"My purpose for coming to you this time is to invite you to join the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Its mission is to target HYDRA," Colonel Phillips explained.
"Oh, as a wealthy man, why should I get involved in such matters? I think the Count might be more interested," Howard replied. Being a businessman, he preferred to stay out of these affairs.
"At the very least, you will receive a large number of military orders. If you join, you might have the opportunity to become the second-largest arms dealer under PL Industries."
"Also, you can prove that you are more capable than the Germans and can better utilize your talents. Most importantly, any new high-tech weapons captured on the battlefield in the future can be researched by you first. How about it?" Colonel Phillips was persuasive.
Howard tilted the shield slightly, eyeing the finish. The surface was dull and uneven, not polished like anything he'd ever design himself. He ran a thumb along the edge.
"Huh. Looks crude. Like some poor imitation of a ceremonial pieceā¦ and yetā" he bounced it lightly in his hands, "āit's light. Way too light for its density."
He tapped it with his knuckles, listening to the ring. "Whatever this isā¦ It's not steel. And definitely not anything from our inventory."
Phillips watched him. "We recovered it from an isolated lab. Nobody knows how it was made. No notes. No repeat batch."
"Typical," Howard muttered. "Still, crude as it looks... I might be able to do something with this."
"Forget it. I've never been very accustomed to such a restrictive life. Maybe we can cooperate, but joining your team? No, thank you. After all, you can't afford my salary. Oh, right, can I research this shield? I'm very curious about its material. It's very similar to a metal our subsidiary just acquired," Howard said to Phillips, holding the shield in his hand.
"Of course not. After all, if you don't participate in the plan, you'll only be considered an outsider, and this shield is a national treasure. However, if I'm present, I can lend it to you for two days of research," Colonel Phillips replied, his eyelids drooping as he planned to use Howard's curiosity to entice him to join.
"For this kind of thing, one night is enough for me. Let's go; don't waste time. I can't wait to unveil its mystery," Howard Stark retorted, and he led Colonel Phillips outside.
Just as Howard Stark, Colonel Phillips, and his guards stood next to Howard's car, a sedan approached quickly from a distance. As it drew near, the car windows rolled down, and several gun barrels extended from inside.
The experienced guards immediately noticed something was wrong and tackled Howard and the Colonel to the ground beside the car. In the chaos, Howard reacted by raising the shield in his hand to block the incoming bullets.
Soon, the attacking thugs were quickly subdued by the police department responsible for the venue. After Phillips revealed his identity as a military figure and one of the attack victims, the criminals were swiftly taken into custody by the military.
The interrogation results came quickly. Although the thugs ultimately committed suicide, the last slogan they shouted before dying clearly indicated their identity.
Upon returning to Howard Stark's side, Colonel Phillips asked, "Do you know who attacked you?"
"Aren't you investigating?" Howard replied, filled with doubt.
"It's the HYDRA organization I mentioned earlier. From what I understand, this organization is called HYDRA. Its predecessor was the German National Weapons Research Center," he said, handing Howard the previously collected information about German HYDRA.
He continued, "After Johann Schmidt, nicknamed Red Skull, took over this organization, it gradually evolved into a secret German military entity that integrates weapon research and development, covert operations, and military strikes."
"They carry out targeted assassinations in anti-German countries, especially against weapon research talents. If they cannot kidnap someone, they will directly assassinate them."
As Howard Stark read the reports detailing the killings of military officers and weapon researchers from various countries, a look of concern crossed his face. In the past two years, he had been so high-profile that he was bound to be on HYDRA's list.
The thought of being captured or assassinated was not something Howard Stark wanted to entertain.
Just like today's attack, if it hadn't been for the guards discovering it in advance, his quick reaction with the shield, and the presence of so many armed forces, he might not have survived.
"Damn it, do I really have to cooperate with BlackShield Security and hire them to protect me? But I hate this feeling of admitting I'm inferior to others."
Colonel Phillips raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to. If you join the Strategic Scientific Reserve, you'll be under top-grade military protection. Our division has a classified internal security unit. Might not wear the BlackShield badge, but they're no less capable. You'll be protected. And you won't need to outsource your life to a third party."
Howard considered that. He didn't like the idea of being protected at all, but he hated depending on another company more.
"I don't have much time to work for your department," Howard Stark replied.
"Don't worry about that. We will provide you with all the necessary conditions for research and development. As long as you prioritize equipping our people with your results, so that we can strike against HYDRA, we will fully support your research. Just like your previous theory on human radiation enhancement. To support your experiment, I've already arranged for someone to find partners for you, and I believe there will be results very soon."
"Alright, happy cooperation."
"Happy cooperation."
The two shook hands, symbolizing Howard Stark's official entry into the Strategic Scientific Reserve.
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The People's Daimyo ā Part 3: The Silk Market
The capital city stretched beneath the morning sun like an unfolding fanāwarm, bustling, layered with life.
George walked at a measured pace through the crowded silk market, hood drawn low and hands clasped behind his back. He wore the unremarkable cloak of a middle-class merchant.
Beside him, the Princess had ditched her formal robes for a simple cotton yukata and a cloth cap that barely hid her highborn grace.
They walked side by side. Not as ruler and consort. Just two people. Anonymous in the river of noise and smells and color.
Stalls brimmed with dyed fabrics, spices, wooden toys, steaming dumplings, lacquerware. The sounds of clattering carts, merchants' cries, and street musicians bounced off the tiled walls. A child darted past George, nearly knocking into him.
"Hey, easy there!" George said, laughing slightly as he steadied the kid.
The boy bowed in apology and ran off. The Princess smiled. "He thought you were just another merchant."
"Good. That's the whole point."
They moved through the market slowly, stopping now and then. George bought sesame buns from a stall, tearing one in half and handing it to her.
She raised an eyebrow. "You remember I like the sesame ones."
"I forget nothing," he said.
She bit into it. "Still hot."
They found a shaded bench near a small fountain surrounded by overgrown ivy. The clamor of the market dulled here. George leaned back, eyes half-closed, taking in the scent of hot bread and fire-cooked pork drifting on the wind.
The Princess watched him. "You're quiet today."
"Just listening," he replied.
"To what?"
He gestured subtly. "The people. Their voices say more than ministers ever will."
She looked around. An old vendor bartered with two young girls over ribbons. A man with one leg wheeled a pushcart of carved spoons. Nearby, a woman with a scarred face was singing softly while stirring noodles in a pot.
"Do they fear you?" she asked.
"Some. Others trust me. Most just want rice on their plates and a roof that doesn't leak."
A moment passed. Then she said, "You never told me if it was you who struck the temple."
"I didn't need to."
She nodded. "That's not a denial."
"I gave my word I'd protect this country. I'll do whatever that takes."
She didn't press further.
They walked again, this time taking a narrower path between the food vendors and paper lantern stalls. In a quiet courtyard at the edge of the market, an old man selling tea waved at them.
"I know that one," George said.
"You do?"
"He was a palace guard. Served under the last Daimyo."
They approached the stall. The man squinted at George for a long moment, then offered a small grin.
"Didn't think I'd see you walk these streets, Daimyo-sama."
"I walk where I want, old friend," George replied.
The man nodded at the Princess. "And you, my lady, look happier than you did behind those palace walls."
She gave him a soft smile. "Perhaps I am."
The tea was bitter but clean. They drank in silence for a while. The old man watched them knowingly but said nothing more.
As the sun started to lower, the two made their way through a quieter district, the crowds thinning. The Princess stopped near a stall selling red lanterns. Her hand hovered over one.
"They say lovers hang these from their windows during festival nights."
George glanced at her. "Is that a hint?"
"You tell me."
He leaned in close, voice lower. "We'll hang two."
Her cheeks colored. She didn't turn away.
Back at the palace, their carriage waited near the outer gates, surrounded by a few trusted guards.
Inside the carriage, the world dimmed behind the velvet curtains. George sat beside her, watching her undo the ribbon in her hair.
She didn't meet his eyes, but she said, "You're always so guarded out there. But not with me."
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Because you see me clearer than the rest."
Her fingers lingered in his.
"Tonight," she whispered, "no reports, no court, no maps."
"Just us," he finished.
The look they exchanged said the rest. Nothing flowery, no honey words. Just the silent understanding of two people who had chosen each other, despite everything.
Outside, the lanterns of the city began to light.
Inside the carriage, shadows closed in as the wheels turned slowly back toward the palace. Toward a shared bed. And a night that wouldn't be quiet.
Let me know if you want Part 4: Lanterns Over the River next.
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