In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.
In the roaring workshop, Jiang Chuan, wearing a work uniform and a safety helmet, was walking along the production line under Wang Mingyuan’s guidance.
After inspecting the entire production line, he arrived at the quality inspection workshop.
In the quality inspection workshop, boxes upon boxes of AK-47s were placed on the ground, awaiting preliminary inspection.
“President Jiang, after half a month of production, the number of AK-47 semi-automatic rifles has reached 3,000. It’s estimated that in five days, all 5,000 AK-47s will be completed,” Wang Mingyuan said.
Jiang Chuan casually picked up an AK-47 semi-automatic rifle, held it in his hands, rested his head against the body of the gun, and placed his finger on the trigger.
He wasn’t worried about an accidental discharge—the safety was still on, and there were no bullets in the gun.
With a gun in hand, Jiang Chuan couldn’t help but feel a bit excited.
No man would refuse a gun, especially a real one.
“What’s the quality pass rate?” Jiang Chuan tossed the AK-47 back into the box.
“The pass rate for the firearms is 98%, and for the bullets, it’s 95%,” Wang Mingyuan said.
Hearing these numbers, Jiang Chuan nodded in satisfaction.
If a firearms factory can maintain a pass rate of around 95%, it’s already considered a very qualified military factory. If it can exceed that number, it means the quality of the guns produced by this factory far surpasses that of other military factories.
The same goes for bullets.
As the fastest-consuming product in the world today, the control over pass rates is incredibly strict.
Of course, this is also to prevent accidents—things like barrel explosions or dud rounds. The battlefield is ever-changing, and a single misstep could lead to serious consequences.
So, the key factor in determining whether a military factory is qualified is its bullet pass rate, which must be at least 92%.
Clearly, Jiang Chuan’s military factory, just judging by its pass rate, already far exceeds other military factories.
“President Jiang, want to test-fire a gun?” Wang Mingyuan suggested, seeing how eager he was.
Jiang Chuan’s eyes lit up. “Sure.”
As the owner of a military factory, not knowing how to shoot just wouldn’t do. If he went out to negotiate business in the future, merely introducing gun specs to clients—recoil, ballistic accuracy, rate of fire, reload speed, and so on—wouldn’t be very useful.
Nothing beats actually firing the gun—it’s faster and more convincing.
And when necessary, he’d need to demonstrate the gun for clients.
As he was thinking, the two had already arrived at the shooting range in the back hills.
Five different firearms were laid out here: the newly produced AK-47, an FN-FAL automatic rifle, a Steyr AUG rifle, an FN SCAR rifle, and an M4A1 automatic rifle.
These five rifles were all the first samples produced by the factory, specifically for test-firing.
Putting on professional ear muffs and sunglasses, Jiang Chuan first picked up the AK-47.
The heavy feel almost seemed like it would pull his arms right off. It took him a while to get used to it before he felt somewhat comfortable.
Holding the gun, he flicked off the safety, took a deep breath, squinted one eye along the sights, and pulled the trigger toward the distant target.
Bang!
The sharp sound of the gunshot rang out, and the massive recoil pushed him back two steps. At the same time, his shoulder instantly went numb.
After a few hisses and gasps, Jiang Chuan put down the gun and rubbed his shoulder.
Firing a gun for the first time, it’s only natural for the body to feel uncomfortable. This is all normal—no need to worry too much about it.
After just a bit of adjustment, Jiang Chuan began trying the next gun.
…
Half a month later.
“President Jiang, the 5,000 AK-47s and 100,000 rounds of ammunition are all ready. We can deliver them now,” Wang Mingyuan said solemnly, standing in Jiang Chuan’s office.
Jiang Chuan nodded. “Have all these guns been inspected? And the bullets—have the spot checks been completed?”
Wang Mingyuan nodded firmly. “President Jiang, rest assured. Whether it’s the guns or the bullets, I personally inspected them all. There absolutely won’t be any mistakes.”
Only then did Jiang Chuan nod in satisfaction.
After all, this was the first batch of goods being delivered. If there were quality issues or any other problems, it could cause dissatisfaction among the clients, leading to them not placing repeat orders.
The arms circle is very niche—it’s always the same group of people buying. Once your reputation suffers, or your prices are inflated, word spreads through the entire circle quickly.
After that, business is as good as dead.
Jiang Chuan understood this principle well, which is why he had reminded them time and again to ensure quality and meet the standards.
“President Jiang, it’s just that the other order… the final M4A1 automatic rifles might need another half month,” Wang Mingyuan said, lowering his head somewhat embarrassed, and let out a helpless sigh.
Jiang Chuan didn’t get angry. Frowning, he asked, “Why?”
“Mainly because producing multiple types of firearms causes our production line to switch more frequently. And while ensuring quality, we have to slow down the pace. So the deadline might be extended by about half a month.”
Hearing Wang Mingyuan’s explanation, Jiang Chuan waved his hand. “It’s fine. Half a month’s delay is half a month’s delay. I’ll explain it to the client. You go ahead and get back to work.”
“Understood, President Jiang.”
After Wang Mingyuan left the office.
Jiang Chuan then took out his satellite phone and immediately called Brandi, the leader of the Smaha Organization.
Before long, the call was connected, and Brandi’s somewhat aged voice came through.
“Hello, Jiang Chuan? If I’m not mistaken.”
Jiang Chuan smiled. “I have to say, your memory is really quite good, General Brandi.”
“Of course. After all, you still have our 1 million Eagle Coins in your hands,” Brandi joked.
Jiang Chuan laughed heartily. “It should be 5 million Eagle Coins now, General Brandi. And you will also receive 5,000 AK-47s and 100,000 rounds of ammunition.”
“One month—you’re really punctual,” Brandi said.
Jiang Chuan nodded. “Naturally. In business, integrity is what matters most.”
“Alright, General Brandi, you should send me the delivery location now. I’ll send someone over immediately to deliver the goods.
As for the remaining balance, you can transfer it to my account after you receive the goods. No rush.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll take the guns and not pay?” Brandi’s rough voice was full of a playful tone.
Jiang Chuan spread his hands. “If that happened, I’d have to spread the word all over the world that the Smaha Organization broke its word—bought weapons and didn’t pay. I believe Barto Country would be very happy to see that.”
“Hmph, kid, don’t worry. I absolutely won’t give you that chance.” Brandi’s voice wasn’t angry—instead, there was a hint of teasing in it.
Afterward, the two briefly discussed the delivery address and method, and confirmed that if this batch of guns passed inspection and they were satisfied, they would place large-scale orders. Then they hung up.
Jiang Chuan took a sip of water, picked up the satellite phone, and was about to call the big client that Zhang Songyang had introduced.
