护士奶头又大又软又好摸

"Hello." Gengyo grinned up at them, and withdrew from his robes a collection of loose sheets of paper, strewn across each were multiple designs and sketches. "Have a look at these – I want you to make them. Go on, pass them round."

A smith reached forward, and glanced at the front page, stroking his chin in an attempt to hide his nervousness. "Is this a matchlock... your lordship...?" He was unsure as how to refer to Gengyo, but the monk did not attempt to correct him, and merely nodded in response to his question.

"Indeed, these are designs for a new kind of matchlock, and ammunition shells. I want each of you to make them."

The smith stared at the front page, trying to comprehend what he was looking at. The design followed simple enough. It was the normal barrel of a gun – that all looked the same. But most things else were completely foreign.

"What’s all this..?" He mumbled to himself, as the other smiths glanced over his shoulder.

"That is a shell that I want you to make. The gunpowder and the bullet are contained inside, and when the striker hits it, a spark is created and the powder ignites, projecting the bullet as though it were a normal musket ball."

He went on to explain various other parts of the design. He wished for the rifles to have multiple shots, and so took inspiration from the old gunslinger’s revolvers, though he put it in rifle form. In order to get that to work, he had to adjust the entire triggering mechanism, and the bullets that would be set inside the revolving barrel.

The smiths looked towards each other as they passed the design around, clearly thinking it to be ludicrous. But there were a couple who nodded, seeming to understand the concept.

"I think my sketches explain what I aim for well enough. If there are any among you that can make it by tomorrow, then you will receive a hundred gold for your efforts. But, as soon as possible, I want these weapons mass produced. You will each receive 500 gold per hundred rifles made."

Their ears perked up at the mention of money. It was a language that they all understood. He was the conqueror of Okazaki, so they had assumed that he would be forcing them into labour. But still, producing one hundred rifles was no quick or easy task for any smith.

"A hundred rifles will take a while to make. A month, minimum." One of the smiths stated. Five hundred gold was certainly a handsome amount for a month’s work, but still, there was a clear sense of urgency about the monk, and he doubted that they would be able to meet his expectations.

"After making a number of rifles, the process will begin to become repetitive. I have an army of men available; you can make use of as many of them as you wish, free of charge. That should speed things along." Gengyo suggested, wearing a knowing smile. He wouldn’t being taking no for an answer here, and the others were only just starting to understand that.

They were still uneasy, and their governor watched on, feeling mightily sorry for them. Still, it could have been worse. At least she was still alive, and able to exert some influence, so that she could protect them to some degree.

"I will get your prototype made this evening." One of the older smiths spoke. Grey hairs had begun matting his dark beard, but his long hair was till a deep black.

"You can?" Gengyo asked, perking up. "That would be perfect. I will be available for you to call on if you have any questions, and so that we can test it, and ensure it is working properly.

"Right you are, my lord. I’ll get this prototype done, and then the rest of us should be able to take it apart, and look at the components. It’ll be easier that way."

In daily life, the majority of them were rivals who competed with each other for trade. But in times of crisis, such pettiness was thrown out the window, and they united together in order to accomplish the task ahead of them, and secure their gold, and their lives.

...

...

The days past, and soon they found that they had spent a week in Okazaki, but significant progress was being made in regards to the development of their new firearm. The testing phase was now completed, and they were in the process of mass developing the weapons. The once busy streets now grew even busier. The civilians had learned to accept the presence of the huge army, and gradually, as Gengyo had suggested, more and more of his men began to help out the smiths, so that the production process became even quicker.

Many bodies lined the streets. Soon, it was not enough to have just Gengyo’s own men, and some other civilians began to join in, after being hired for a fair price.

Gengyo watched on from afar, only interfering when it was necessary.

He held in his hands a firearm that he had recently acquired from one of the smiths. He had selected it randomly from a pile of completed products, and was about to test it’s quality. It was possible that the smiths would be unable to replicate the perfect design, and that there would be flaws.

A random test was a good way of making sure everything was in order, as it should be. Along with the newly constructed rifle, he also held a collection of bullets. They were sizeable things. Enough to puncture a decently sized hole in both man and armour alike. Because of their pointed shape, they were less likely to bounce off armour. Even steel armour would not be able to stop their likes.

He pushed out the revolving barrel, and loaded it. He did not rush, so that he would get a good estimation of what the loading time might be. Thirty seconds, maximum, he reckoned.

And so, on the land outside of Okazaki, he took aim at his target – a withered old tree that was a single branch away from becoming a stump – and pulled the trigger. The rifle shot back into his shoulder, sending a shot rocketing down the barrel. Just where he had aimed, the shot landed, and tore a chunk of wood from the rotting old stump.

The barrel had rotated properly, and without making any adjustments to his aim, he reset the hammer, and pulled the trigger once more. Yet again, the shot landed dead on the stump, sending up a cloud of dust and fragments of wood.

He repeated the process, firing again and again, until all the bullets had been fired. The dead stump was now nothing more than a few pieces of jutting wood, and Gengyo let out a satisfied grin. The production process was indeed proceeding smoothly, it seemed. Soon, he would be able to arm every single one of his men with these firearms. Being able to fire a continuous volley would be a significant advantage on the field. So much so, that their lack of numbers no longer seemed to count for much.

He had also begun to train his men in a few of the basic techniques. It was odd teaching them with a sword, rather than a spear, but he quickly learned to adapt. Even his old crew joined in, and all of them sensed the power in these new techniques, even though they were still so basic. They practised hard, and like a steroid, the techniques allowed them to grow rapidly. They were far from being equal to any of the Menryo-ji monks, but after a few years training they might come close. Still, the objective was not to conquer Menryo-ji. It was to conquer Mikawa, and these techniques that they would learning placed them above the average soldier.

Quickly, the army was beginning to shape up. The men, through the various training sessions, began to establish a new kind of connection and understanding with their leader. As their comradery grew, so did their competence and their morale.

Within a matter of days, they would be ready to move out once more. There were various matters that he had been attending to whilst they focused on production. He’d once more employed a guard of over a hundred men for the governor to use in order to keep the streets peaceful.

"Are you playing out here again?" A voice came from behind, interrupting his thoughts.

"I’ll head back now."

"Please do, it’s getting dark. It would not do for you to catch a cold."

He smiled widely at her concern. "It’s like we’re already married. You’re mothering over me."

"Hmph! This is what I get for being nice to you... Though it won’t be long, will it?"

"No, not too long now. We can hold the ceremony before we leave Okazaki." He wound his arm around her, trapping her in his embrace, as he spoke next to her ear.

"It’s your mother we’re waiting for, isn’t it? Will she be okay from the journey?" She asked worried, tilting her head back, as she looked up at him.

"She should be fine. Morohira and Rin have been telling me that she’s all back to her old health. There’s no stopping her now."

"That’s good... I’m glad."