"What's that dear?"
Fuku asked, as she sat up in bed, sipping on a cup of herbal tea. They'd been out for a walk together earlier, so she was feeling rather tired.
"A matchlock rifle, mother. I'm trying to find out how it works."
He had one of the servants travel to Toyokawa and pick up a matchlock rifle on his behalf. He, of course, could have gone to one of the various weapon smiths that were busy replicating such models, but he preferred the idea of dealing with foreigners, as their lack of language meant no one would talk about his purchase.
It was an interesting piece of equipment, but he had no real idea how it was meant to work. In his life he'd never held much interest in weaponry, and, as a result of gun laws in his country, he had never even held a gun.
He had a rough idea of how they work: gunpowder was ignited within the barrel, and a musket ball sat on top. The explosion from the gunpowder propelled it.
Due to this lack of knowledge, his task of improving it was made all the harder. He was aware of what improvements could be made, but those were merely ideas. He would largely have to create the design himself.
"Mm, you always used to fiddle with things like that when you were younger, do you remember? Well, maybe not quite something as dangerous as that, but you were always taking things apart."
She said with a small smile
He perked up at that. He had no idea how the previous Tadakata had behaved – only that he was a weak individual that others took advantage of. It was interesting to see that he and the previous host shared the same curiosity for things.
"Did I? I don't remember. But I suppose I do enjoy things like this…"
The main problem with the matchlock rifle was, well, the fact that it was a matchlock. Instead of a spark being created when the trigger was pulled – which would ignite the gunpowder – a match cord was lit, and then when the trigger was pulled, the match cord would be lowered, causing the same ignition. But the problem was that such a cord could go out at any time, especially during rain, and they often would have to be replaced.
"Yup! I heard you put your father in charge of something to do with boats? He was really excited, so he didn't explain it very well."
"Ah… I did, yes. I'm hoping he'll be able to gather some experience, and become an effective leader. It'll make our forces a lot stronger if we have multiple men that are capable of leading."
He replied, not looking up, as he continued to fiddle with the firearm, opening various compartments and peering inside, trying to figure out their utility.
"Ho… It all sounds very complicated to me. But I think you're doing a good job, and I'm very proud of you."
She said with a carefree smile. He looked up, catching that look on her face, before shaking his head, wearing a smile of his own. He'd made a point to come and visit her, especially since he was doing something like weapon analysis, which didn't require his full attention. It was merely playing, to see what certain things did.
"Do you want to come and see it fire, mother?"
He asked, patting the long rifle that he held against his shoulder.
"It'll be really loud, won't it?"
She questioned, with a slightly apprehensive look on her face. Fuku was not a fan of loud noises.
"Yeah, I'd reckon so."
"Mm… okay."
Came her reluctant agreement. He grinned, rather excited to try out his new toy, and they walked outside. The servant had also acquired some gunpowder, and lead balls that would serve as ammunition.
On the side of the barrel - where the lit match cord hit - there was a small pan, which appeared to be a receiver for something. He assumed that it would be gunpowder, as there was nothing else for the match cord to light. He sprinkled a small amount in it, and then replaced the pan cover.
The pan was connected to the barrel through a small opening, and so the inner gunpowder was able to be lit from the outside.
He carefully put in what he thought to be a reasonable amount of gunpowder – he didn't want to overload the weapon, else it might explode in his face – and then plopped a musket ball on top.
There was a rod that was attached to the top of the weapon, and the purpose of which was obvious: to ram the ball and ammunition further into the barrel. But it was odd, for he felt the gunpowder and ball had already made its way to the bottom, so the utility of it was questionable.
Yet as he lowered the weapon to hold the rifle straight – having not yet lit the matchlock cord, this was merely for testing purposes – he heard the ball roll.
"Yeah… That shouldn't happen."
He announced. Even for someone as inexperienced as him, it was obvious that the gunpowder and ball should not be scattered halfway up the barrel.
"What's the matter?"
"The ball is moving around too much. We need something light to keep it in place… like, paper?"
Paper seemed to be a good idea. It could be crumpled up, and forced down the barrel, holding the ammunition in place, and when it came time to actually fire, it would barely slow the bullet at all. And so, the true reason for the ramrod became clear.
"One-second mother, I'm going to get some paper. Hold this, if you will."
"Ah."
He handed the large matchlock rifle to her - which looked thoroughly ridiculous in her arms - and ran to his office to fetch some paper that they could work with. He returned a few moments later.
"That'll do."
He decided, ripping a bit of paper before forcing it down the barrel. He then slipped off the ramrod, and pushed it all the way to the bottom, firmly securing the paper and ammunition right at the end.
And then, after lighting his match cord, he prepared to fire.
"Cover your ears – this'll be pretty loud."
They were attracting the attention of some of the servants with the weaponary that he held. They were mere village folk, and had never seen – though of course, they had of – matchlock rifles. Even the guards were neglecting their duties, and were turning around to see what would happen.
He looked down the sight, and pressed it against his shoulder. The first thing he noticed was the weight. The weapon was far too long, and it's heavy weight made it hard to keep it level. But struggling on despite that, he aligned the sights, and aimed towards the stone wall that bordered their residence.
With a delicate finger, he pulled on the spring-loaded trigger, slowly lowering the lit matchcord toward the pan. He was rather nervous whilst doing this, as he was well aware of the destruction such a piece of equipment could cause – especially if things were to go wrong. But there were plenty of times during his life where the situation had been such, flicking a mere switch was often liable to send 230 volts raging through his body. But he trusted in himself, who had done all the reparations
BANG
It shot back against his shoulder powerfully, as a cloud of smoke drifted from the end of the barrel. For a second he wasn't sure whether it had fired properly or not, but then he noticed the crack in the stone wall, where the bullet had hit, and rebounded off of.
There was no way of finding where it had gone now, but judging by the terrified look on the guards' faces, it was somewhere nearby. Because of modern guns, his expectations as to how the bullet would react upon making contact with the wall were slightly skewed. A modern bullet was shaped differently, and was liable to cut, rather than to simply collide.
"Sorry!"
He called out to the onlookers, who were still rather frightened after hearing such a terrifyingly loud bang. One could only imagine how an army laden with thousands of these would sound – though he did not need to imagine, for he had ran straight into one.
"What do you think, mother?"
Came his question, as he asked it with something of a smile, rather pleased with himself. He'd managed to find out how to fire it – well, perhaps not properly, but so that it would work – without any instruction. Though, of course, they were not designed to be a puzzle to use.
"Scary… Morohira said that you fought against those?"
She asked with a somewhat worried look on her face. She had seen the state of her husband's body, and knew that her son must be in a similar sort of state, with all the scars. Though, they had now all but healed up completely.
"That we did."
He affirmed. After firing it, and analysing it beforehand, he had some idea as to how the weapon functioned. He would want to take it apart further before making any big changes, as he did not fully understand each function of each part.
'Perhaps I can simply leave it as is, and just add the changes I wish?'
The change foremost in his mind was upgrading it from a matchlock weapon, to a flintlock. It was relatively simple – in concept – as it was simply a piece of spring loaded flint, that would fly towards a steel striker at speed, creating sparks. It was a common method of firestarting, and that method had simply been applied to the weapon.
Of course, there were other specifics that he would have to worry about: how to get the spark cloud to make contact with the gunpowder pan without the spark cloud being too large. And other things of that note.
'My knowledge on this is too basic… It would take many tests, removing each feature – aside from the obvious ones – to find out how it affects the way the bullet is fired. Or I could find a smith to explain it to me.'
But there were numerous problems with finding a skilled enough smith. It would be better if he was able to have an understanding of it himself. Yet he did not frown when thinking of all the work that he would have to do in order to understand the weapon better – quite the opposite. It was something to occupy his time whilst he waited for favourable news to come from the cove.
"Are you thinking something clever again, Tadakata?"
Fuku asked with a smile, seeing that faraway look in his eye.
"Instead of balls, we should make sharper bullets, so that they don't bounce off everything."
It was a rather big problem that came as a result of musket ball use – them tending to bounce off armour. Historically, this problem had resulted in the making of higher calibre weapons that fired larger and heavier rounds which did not have a chance of rebounding.
But he decided that he would go the route of attempting to imitate the modern bullet. He did not know how it would react if the shape was changed though, so that would require lots of testing. Perhaps it would simply spin through the air, rendering the sharpness useless.
"Ohhh, that sounds like a good idea. You should get a smith to work alongside you, so you can keep testing your different ideas."
She proposed, annunciating what he was already thinking. He had no skill in metalwork, and had no desire to learn. Hiring a smith was the only real option that remained.
"Mhm, I think I will."
He said in agreement, balancing the rifle on his palm, as he pondered how he might lighten its immense weight.