Marvel 1919 : Rise of an Empire

The two chatted for a while longer, and by then, many guests had already arrived in the banquet hall. As they prepared to rejoin the crowd, a man with a full beard approached Bennett, accompanied by the person George had previously met at Winchester Company.

"Old friend, long time no see."

With those words, he gave Bennett a light hug.

"Long time no see, Benson."

"Who is this? I don't believe we've met before."

"Let me introduce you. This is George Orwell, the new Master of Winchester."

"George, this is Benson Laut from Western Ammunition Company."

"Nice to meet you."

"A pleasure to meet you as well. You offered Bennett a price he couldn't refuse. I hope we have the opportunity to work together in the future."

"Of course. One of us makes guns, the other makes bullets. We're natural partners."

"You're right. Well, I see some old friends over there. Let's talk again soon."

After shaking hands, they greeted Bennett once more and moved to the other side of the room.

The three retrieved drinks from a passing servant. While they all contained alcohol, the content was low.

Cocktails had been recently invented to comply with Prohibition regulations. People began mixing fruit juice and other ingredients with alcohol to stay within legal limits.

Bennett introduced several notable figures in the banquet hall to Paul and Randy. George silently committed their names and faces to memory. Bennett also explained that the purpose of the event was to discuss securing Military contracts to survive the current crisis.

This, George thought, was capitalism in action: using taxpayers' money to help arms dealers stay afloat. But now that he was a beneficiary, he wouldn't pretend to be a saint.

Bennett wanted to introduce Paul and Randy around. George chose not to follow, understanding that Randy, as the heir, needed to gain experience quickly before Bennett's retirement. If George tagged along, he would overshadow him. Good employees were hard to find—he needed to be considerate.

As George stood with his drink, watching the scene of fame and fortune unfold before him, a commotion broke out near the banquet hall's entrance. Many guests surged toward someone, murmuring, "General, General."

Someone from the Military had arrived. George, standing at a distance and unable to see through the crowd, didn't pay much attention.

Turning toward the window, he gazed at the sea of lights outside and felt a wave of emotion. This was probably the first banquet of this kind he had ever attended across both lifetimes. It was a pity he couldn't post a selfie to his Moments like in his previous life—he would've gotten a flood of likes.

"George!?" someone called out. George turned and saw Pang Bo in a Military uniform, standing not far away.

"Uncle Pang Bo, why are you here?"

"That's my question. Why are you here?"

"I came with someone—just wanted to see the excitement."

"I'm here with the General. He just arrived at West Point and plans to purchase new training equipment, so the logistics department brought him here."

Now George understood. The banquet was essentially organized for the General's visit. With Winchester and the aircraft factory under his name, George realized he had every right to participate.

"Uncle Pang Bo, I've got some good stuff too. Can you help me talk to the General?"

"Still pursuing arms? Isn't the liquor business enough for you? You're still a student, and liquor makes more money. The arms business is risky—deep waters."

"Well, Winchester Company is mine now, and so is an aircraft manufacturing company. The F-1 aircraft? That's mine too."

Pang Bo was stunned. "You mean you control two Military factories?"

George nodded.

Pang Bo couldn't help but wonder—was smuggling liquor this profitable?

"Come on, the General's right over there. Let's go say hello."

"Of course. I can't miss the chance to greet him."

They headed toward the banquet's center, where only top executives from arms companies surrounded the General: representatives from Western Ammunition, Colt, FN, and Bennett himself. Randy was off talking to other businessmen.

General Arthur was engaged in conversation when he spotted Pang Bo, followed by a young man. His eyes narrowed in surprise. The others followed his gaze.

"General, long time no see."

"George? Haven't you reported to school yet?"

"Not yet. I've applied. The interview is on August 10th."

"Well, you're not a soldier, so no need to call me 'General.' Just 'Uncle' or 'Arthur' is fine."

In the U.S., addressing elders by their first names is a sign of familiarity, not disrespect.

"Okay, Uncle Arthur."

"What brings you here? I wouldn't think this type of event would appeal to someone your age."

"Well, I own two arms companies now. Came to take a look."

"Oh? You do?"

"Yes. Winchester is mine. And so is the F-1 aircraft."

General Arthur, a seasoned Military officer, immediately recognized the significance of both. The F-1 aircraft was excellent—just poorly timed.

Everyone looked toward Bennett.

"Yes, George has been the owner of Winchester Company for over a month. It just hasn't been made public."

A wave of astonishment passed over the group. Such a young man already on their level?

"I hope to work with all of you in the future," George said, raising his glass before taking a sip.

"Young and promising. Let's collaborate more," someone responded.

Glasses clinked and sips followed.

General Arthur clapped George on the shoulder. "Stay and chat with us."

The event shifted into casual conversation. No business talk—just socializing.

The real work would begin later: approvals from Arthur, confirmations from the logistics department, and layers of formalities. A drink wouldn't cut it.

After the banquet, Arthur told George to visit sometime, then left.

George and Bennett returned to their hotel. George asked Randy to accelerate the production of several M1 Orwell rifles to prepare for Military evaluation. He then presented a blueprint.

It was for the M1911A1 pistol—Colt's future upgrade of the M1911. From its 1911 debut to 1985, it served the U.S. Military across both World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, and beyond, earning a reputation for reliability. Production licenses were issued worldwide, with nearly 5 million ordered during WWII alone.

George intended to take a bite out of Colt's pie.

M1911A1 Improvements:

Widened front sight with Orwell sight for low-light visibility (George renamed it, having secured the rights first).

Extended hammer for easier thumb cocking.

Shorter trigger pull with anti-slip texturing.

Arched backstrap with grip texture for enhanced control (optional accessory).

Redesigned grip panel texture for comfort.

Thumb groove behind the trigger for easier pull.

Extended grip safety.

George gave Randy the blueprints and patent documents and instructed him to file for a patent and produce prototypes.

How Randy and Bennett negotiated with Colt didn't concern him.

Back home, George called Paul and asked him to visit the next day.

He explained the previous night's discussion with Bennett and tasked Paul with handling procedures. He handed over a $2 million check.

Later, at the hotel, George had tried to persuade Bennett to stay, promising substantial income if they secured the order. But Bennett declined due to health issues. He said he'd use this deal and the Colt negotiations to mentor Randy, then retire in peace.

George accepted his decision and wished him well.

His funds had shrunk again—over a million in the bank, and more in his spatial inventory.

With General Arthur's help, George stood a solid chance of securing contracts for rifles, pistols, and possibly the trainer aircraft.

Though Boeing would ideally handle the aircraft, for now, Paul would manage it.

With little left to do in New York, George planned to head to Los Angeles and then Nevada. It was time to deal with the Jewish Gang.

The next day, George made a public appearance, ensuring those watching thought he remained in New York. That afternoon, he returned home, left a shadow clone behind, and vanished.

Some things can be done, but no evidence must remain. People could suspect he dealt with the Jewish Gang, but no one could prove it.

Three days later, outside Reno.

--- End of Chapter 33 ---

Translator's Note: Thank you for reading! Please comment, share your thoughts, point out any errors, and support the story's journey. 🙏