Cannon Fire Arc

Chapter 749: Chapter 6 Rocossov’s Legend Continues

August 11, 7:00 a.m., Saint Ekaterina Fortress, Capital of Ante.

Wang Zhong’s car stopped in front of the Equipment Committee building, and before he could even open the door, a woman carrying a child rushed up to him.

“Saint!” the woman yelled, “My son has always been in poor health; please bless him!”

Wang Zhong looked at the child and, even with his superficial experience, could tell the child had a high fever, which made him feel awkward: “You should go to a hospital, I don’t have any such ‘special ability.’”

The woman replied, “The doctors treated him, and he got better, but it was no use; he has had a high fever three times this year.”

“This…” Wang Zhong looked at the child’s hopeful eyes and suddenly remembered a case he heard about in a psychology class he took in college to earn elective credits, where a cancer patient who was supposed to live only three months survived half a year because of the placebo effect induced by a doctor’s words.

…

So he said, “I can bless this young fellow, but you must promise to take him to the hospital afterward for proper medical care.”

“I will!” the woman nodded.

Wang Zhong, still uneasy, emphasized, “I am a saint of the Secular faction, and we in the Secular faction value science.”

Religion valuing science, now that’s a statement with some philosophical depth! It could even extend to the grand question, “Is science a religion?”

At this point, Wang Zhong couldn’t manage these thoughts, he just wanted the woman to take her child to the hospital quickly, so he stared into her eyes: “If you do not go to the hospital and only believe in some divine power, that would be blasphemous to me, and my blessing is bound not to work! Understand?”

This time, the woman swallowed hard and firmly said, “I will take him to see a doctor, absolutely!”

Therefore, Wang Zhong placed his hand on the child’s feverish forehead: “Alexandar Nikolayevich, I wish for you to grow up to be a man of Ante, with a robust physique and an indomitable will, that no matter what illness you face, you fight valiantly until the very last moment.”

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After he finished speaking and withdrew his hand, he saw that the child’s mother had her eyes wide open in amazement.

The woman exclaimed, “I haven’t told you his name!”

Actually, Wang Zhong had done it deliberately, as the strength of the placebo effect depends on the listener’s level of trust in the speaker.

So, relying on a cheat, Wang Zhong had seen the child’s name and exhibited a small “miracle.”

He instantly regretted it.

The woman made the sign of the cross over her chest and knelt down with her child: “A miracle! It’s a miracle!”

At this point, everyone on the street had noticed what was happening, and all eyes were fixed on Wang Zhong.

Wang Zhong felt awkward: “I just had the name flash through my mind and said it subconsciously; there’s no need to make a fuss.”

That made things even worse, as the woman shouted, “It was Saint Andrew who told you the name!”

Wang Zhong replied, “Uh, no, it could be quantum entanglement, you see? It’s like how quantum entanglement exceeds the speed of light, so the knowledge from my future self appeared in the mind of my past self.”

—What the heck am I even saying!

Wang Zhong suddenly felt fortunate that he had read a bunch of science fiction novels; now he was making it up as he went along like a pro.

He continued, “In this way, the information in my mind forms a loop, an endless Mobius strip—”

As he mentioned the Mobius strip, a brainwashing clip he had seen before crossing over flashed through his mind, featuring a pumpkin-headed figure dancing.

Could the occasional flashbacks to his homeland in the form of this world also be a kind of quantum entanglement?

The woman had been thoroughly bamboozled by the sophisticated terms Wang Zhong threw at her, nodding like a pecking chicken: “Understood, understood! The General truly has extraordinary knowledge and insight, much obliged!”

After she said this, she was ready to bow to Wang Zhong while pressing down her child’s head, but Wang Zhong stopped her.

“Don’t do that, madam; I am a Secular saint, and it’s not good for you to kneel to me,” said Wang Zhong as he pulled both the woman and the child to their feet, “Vasily, drive them to the hospital.”

“Yes!” Vasily called out loudly.

This little episode thus concluded, and Wang Zhong watched as Vasily’s car disappeared at the crossroads, then he turned his attention to the surrounding area.

The bystanders were all whispering among themselves, and one could guess what they were talking about even without hearing them.

Tonight, the pubs in Yeburg would likely be lively.

Wang Zhong sighed and stepped up the stairs of the Equipment Committee.

————

In the chairman’s office, the noblewoman Gabrielle from the state affairs had already organized a large stack of files waiting for processing.

Seeing the files, Wang Zhong couldn’t help but ask, “Doesn’t anyone make decisions when I’m not here?”

“There are,” Gabrielle immediately answered, “During the time you weren’t here, we released a requirement once and held two approval meetings, resulting in six types of new equipment entering experimental production and one new equipment confirmed for regular production.”

“What got confirmed?” asked Wang Zhong.

Although Gabrielle was a state noblewoman, completely ignorant about military matters, she had obviously done her homework and answered immediately, “The T70 light tank, aimed at utilizing the existing production lines of the previous BT series light tanks to build some decent light tanks.”

Wang Zhong: “Light tanks are indeed good for suppressing enemy infantry and half-track vehicles. Especially in the next six months, there’s likely to be a significant gap in tank replenishment for Prosen, and the main task of our Armored Troops might not be to battle enemy armor, but to inflict heavy casualties on infantry.”

Lady Gabriela: “The Army officers in charge of approval think so too.”

Wang Zhong was somewhat relieved. Whether it was the school or the Equipment Committee, they could still function normally without him and meet all the needs of the Ante Army.

“Since the Army officers agree with my view, can I hand over all these documents to them for processing?” Wang Zhong asked tentatively.

Lady Gabriela exuded an authority reminiscent of a head teacher, which was quite oppressive to Wang Zhong and men of his age in Ceres.

Now, as Lady Gabriela pushed up her glasses, that aura fully emerged: “These have already been streamlined, and they must be handled by you. Some of these documents have been delayed for three months. Can this continue without affecting our military’s combat effectiveness?”

Wang Zhong could only sigh, sit down at his desk, and open the first document.

“Regarding the Production Standardization Evaluation and Naming of the New Medium Tanks”

Suddenly, Wang Zhong became interested and quickly skimmed through it.

The report, written by a panel of experts from the Ordnance Department, pointed out several issues with the new medium tanks, including high failure rates of their new transmissions. However, it emphasized that the improvement in combat capability brought by the new tanks was undeniable and recommended the immediate replacement of the T34 tanks to reduce the exceptionally high casualty rates of the Armored Troops.

The overall casualty rate of the Ante Armored Troops was very high, especially among the Front Armies that had not received enough of the new tanks; some tank brigades were left with just two tanks, and over half of their crews were casualties, with the survivors lying wounded in hospitals.

The Army urgently needed equipment to bridge the gap in troop quality among the Armored Troops.

Perhaps this need had influenced the panel’s final judgment; in any case, they had signed off on mass production of the new medium tanks.

However, the production model of the new medium tank had not yet been determined, and clearly, they were waiting for Wang Zhong’s decision.

Wang Zhong picked up a pen and wrote in the document’s margin: “Suggesting the production model number for the new tank to be T54. May 4th is Youth Day, a holiday for our young tank soldiers, making it a fitting code for the production model.”

After writing, he signed his name, picked up the red seal on the desk, and stamped it firmly over his signature.

———

Meanwhile, inside the Rokossovsky Estate, Ludmila was preparing for her trip to Balas.

“Although I’d like to just wear my military uniform,” Ludmila looked at herself in the mirror, “there will probably be a ball at the diplomatic event, so I’ll need to bring formal attire. My gowns are all outdated, all pre-war court styles. I hear the simple-style evening gowns are now in fashion. Can I still find a tailor in Yeburg to alter my gown?”

Nelly: “I already inquired yesterday. The tailors are all busy making military uniforms and other supplies, and they have no time to work on evening gowns. However, the young ladies in town have started to alter their own gowns, following the fashion magazines from the Federation.”

Ludmila: “What kind of magazines?”

Nelly snapped her fingers, and a maid immediately brought one over: “Magazines like this, ma’am.”

Ludmila took the magazine, looking at the cover where a woman’s skirt was being blown by the wind, her mouth slightly open: “Ah? She is…”

Nelly: “Right now, this magazine is very popular among officers returning to Yeburg from the front line, and it can be traded on the black market for 25 kilograms of Doctor Sausage.”

Ludmila: “The black market hasn’t been targeted by the Judge?”

Nelly: “Ma’am, some people don’t want to eat so much sausage and caviar and would rather change for something else. I think the Judges must have tacitly allowed the black market to exist.”

Ludmila nodded, then stared at the girl on the cover.

“What’s her name?”

“It seems to be something like Monroe.”

“Ludmila, do you think Alyosha would be happy if I dressed like this?”

Nelly thought carefully then nodded seriously: “I think he would!”

Ludmila: “Alright, then I’ll try making such an outfit myself! Quick, see which of my old gowns can be altered.”

———

At the same time, in the Summer Palace.

Olga looked at the serious expression of General Tugenev and asked, “What’s the matter?”

The General placed a document in front of Olga.

Olga gasped upon seeing the title, “You’re awarding yourself the rank of Marshal? I thought you wouldn’t do such a thing!”

General Tugenev: “Because I’m retiring, Your Majesty. If I don’t become a Marshal now, I’ll never have the chance. After my retirement, you must take good care of yourself. Belinsky is a tough character, and the Aristocratic faction is unreliable. Only your foster brother is a protective wall.”

Olga signed at the end of the promotion document and then stood up to hand it to him: “Don’t worry, I’ve thought it through. I’m still Tsar now to avoid upheaval due to changes in leadership. Once the war ends, I’ll look for the right moment to end the Tsarist system.”

The old Marshal nodded, his usually stern face slightly softening with a smile: “Very good. As for the new Chief of Staff, that position can’t be held by someone who commands troops at the front line for long, so Marshal Rocosov wouldn’t be suitable. I actually think Rocosov’s Chief of Staff, Pavlov, would be a good fit, but those three already work so well together, it wouldn’t be right to break them up.”

Olga: “You recommend someone then. I trust your choice.”

The old Marshal nodded in satisfaction and saluted Olga: “Well then, Your Majesty, although I officially retire in two months, let’s say our goodbyes now—goodbye, my dear.”