Angel was in the middle of searching for ways to process Iron Bamboo when he was summoned by the workshop chief.
“What a pain…”
Angel let out a deep sigh as he stood in front of the door to the chief’s office. Being called by the chief meant one of two things: he was either about to scold you, or force an annoying, difficult job on you. No matter what, it wasn’t good.
Angel mumbled hopelessly, scratched his head, and prepared himself for the worst as he opened the door. Unlike Angel’s development lab, the chief’s room was tidy and neat from corner to corner. Not a single speck of dust was visible on the floor, let alone pieces of junk. Weapons and equipment developed at the workshop neatly lined the room’s walls, displaying just how well-organized the workshop chief was.
A table and sofa for visitors dominated the center of the room, and there sat a portly man in work clothes. Caspar Christian, the workshop chief, the only man Angel feared in the workshop, was in his mid-forties and had an intimidating face, a stout body, and healthy, tanned skin. He’d earned fame as a swordsmith, but he would not seem out of place in the Survey Corps. As it was most days, his head was unnecessarily shiny.
“Seems like those cannons you made turned out real good.”
Caspar rubbed his shaved head as he began to speak in his dreadful, intimidating voice.
I wonder why it doesn’t feel like praise.
Angel couldn’t decide if it was because he wasn’t used to being lauded or if Caspar’s appearance was the problem.
“What was good about them? They couldn’t drive the Titans back.”
“You were there?”
“My best friend Solm was on the expedition. It’s natural that I’d be there for his return, no?”
“I see.” Caspar crossed his log-like arms across his chest and nodded, perhaps in assent. “To cut to the chase, looks like the cannons didn’t hit the Titans directly.”
“What?”
“Seems they weren’t quite accurate enough, but the higher-ups are still happy. They want ya to keep up the good work.”
“They’re happy with defective products? Are you sure this isn’t some kind of incredibly backhanded insult?”
“’Course it isn’t.”
Though Caspar denied it, Angel still found himself unconvinced.
Settling for good enough won’t help lead us to the next stage.
Taking verbal abuse would have been easier than this.
“Even if the shells don’t hit the Titans spot on, they still do indirect damage, right?”
While Caspar looked content, Angel couldn’t bring himself to feel happy. If the cannons had functioned perfectly and their capabilities been fully realized, then maybe the tragedy at the gate wouldn’t have occurred.
No ifs or buts…
Still, it would have been possible to avoid that scene.
Being unable to improve the cannons or to confirm their results meant being left with nothing but frustration.
“You seem unhappy, but you should be proud.”
“Easy for you to say…”
“They say the Survey Corps was being chased by ten Titans. Only one of ’em managed to get near Wall Maria.”
“Ten?!”
“That means your cannons scattered the majority of them. I’d say that’s good enough,” Caspar grinned. “And you could say the Survey Corps returned safely ’cause they intercepted the Titans with those cannons, eh? I bet they feel safer, too.”
“You’re placing me on quite the pedestal, but did you call me in here to talk about cannons?”
“Just an aside. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
“I thought so. First the carrot, then the stick?”
As Angel smiled bitterly, the door to the chief’s office opened.
“Did you call for me, chief?”
The unconcerned face that appeared belonged to Xenophon Harkimo, a workshop big shot in his mid-thirties known by his disheveled head of hair, stained work clothes, and metal-framed glasses. He was the former “master inventor” and Angel’s senior at the workshop, though in its results-based world, Angel stood above him.
Not this guy.
Xenophon’s body smelled faintly of chemicals, likely because of some sort of shady experiment he had just been conducting. He was probably concocting a new type of gunpowder. Xenophon’s specialty was developing and manufacturing explosives, and the shells and gunpowder used in the cannons were Xenophon’s handiwork.
Why’s he here?
Angel glanced at Xenophon, who did not even show signs of returning a look.
He’s probably thinking the same thing, though.
That, or he still held a grudge after his place as master inventor had been taken from him. In any case, the title was nothing more than a moniker applied by those around them. It wasn’t as if Angel had stolen it from Xenophon.
“You’ve heard about the factory city, right?” Caspar suddenly said.
“The city the royal government is building in secret?” Xenophon looked pensive as he stroked the stubble on his chin.
Angel had heard the rumors, too. The town was like an open secret among the craftsmen, but he had never heard more than what Xenophon had just said. There may have been a gag order by the royal government, as he didn’t even know where the city was being built.
“If it’s a factory city, it must have something to do with us, huh?”
“Eventually, all workshops will move their operations there. The plan is to make it exactly what its name suggests. The facilities there will make what we have now pale in comparison, which should let us make new, ground-breaking equipment.”
“I see. I bet we’d be able to process Iron Bamboo there, too,” Xenophon mumbled in a chant-like monotone and pushed his glasses up.
“That may be an interesting material to work with, but there’s supposed to be something even better in the factory city.”
“Supposed to be? You don’t have it with you?”
“No,” Caspar quickly replied, then continued. “I couldn’t have any ready for today, but I did get permission to go on-site. Go see it for yourself.”
“When did they complete the city?!” Xenophon jumped at that bit, apparently interested.
“It won’t be fully operational for a while, but taking a look couldn’t hurt.”
“We’re the ones who’re going to have to do the work. I don’t see why we have to make the trip in secret.”
“It’s a dangerous world out there. You can never be too sure.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“The only one.”
“Can’t you come up with a better one? Lie if you have to,” Angel groaned, putting his hand to his forehead.
“The factory city’ll serve a bigger purpose than you can even imagine. That’s why we have to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances.”
“Like Titans?”
“The Titans might be absolute monsters, but there’s nothing to be scared of as long as you don’t go outside, is there?”
“So you’re saying we should be scared of humans.” Xenophon nodded multiple times, as if in agreement. “Humans can be cunning. Like a certain someone,” he said, glaring at Angel.
“Even our impregnable walls can’t protect us from attacks that come from the inside.”
“Ah, so it’s a counterterrorism measure. Okay. You know what they say, nothing scarier than an armed nutcase,” Angel said, glancing sideways at Xenophon.
“The factory city will be a practical armory. If anti-establishment forces captured it, our country itself could be overthrown.”
“Like those weirdoes that have been worshipping the Titans recently.”
“In any case, the details about the factory city are being kept a secret, even to those who will be involved, in order to protect it from idiots like that.”
“But we’re fine?”
“You’re our two stars. It’s not a problem.”
“You’re not sending me into some sort of trouble, are you…”
Angel had a bad and nearly certain feeling that trouble was exactly what he was going to get. Caspar was the one bringing this up, proof that a messy job was waiting.
“So, how do we get to the factory city?”
“You’ll have navigators. Just follow them.”
“Wouldn’t a map suffice?”
“Slow to catch on, aren’t you? They’re obviously not letting you go alone.”
“Why not?”
“Like I just mentioned, there are some dangerous people out there. The men with you are there to protect any secrets and to keep you safe.”
“And they can shut our mouths, if the need arises?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Of all the times to agree with me…”
Caspar laughed heartily as Angel’s shoulders sagged. “Anyway. Go see for yourselves. And if you can develop a new weapon while you’re there, all the better!”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Well, I’m not the one doing the work.”
Angel laughed bitterly.