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February 1, 886, in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. The two industrialist duo, Poul Nielsen and Jonathan Axelsen were engrossed in their work at the Axelsen & Nielsen Arms Manufacturing Company. They were juggling multiple projects, including air brakes, AN-M1 rifles, signaling equipnt, and the developnt of the alternating current system. Jonathan in the anti was in New York, settling matters there as they prepared to lay the foundation for the tro station. However, there was a slight drawback in one of their enterprises that was causing concern.

Alia interrupted Poul's work by handing him the latest report about the war in Europe. Poul set aside the files that he was working on and took the newspaper. After unfolding it, he read the headline.

"The war in Europe is over. For almost three years, a war between the allied forces, Great Britain, the Republic of France, the Ottoman Empire, and the Kingdom of Sardinia against the Russian Empire has co to an end. Both parties have signed an armistice, signaling an end to the war."

Poul scowled after reading the newspaper. "What the… it's quite sooner than I anticipated."

Alia, who just heard him utter those words, frowned. "Did you expect the war to last longer?"

"That was what I was hoping for, to be honest," Poul replied. "You see, I was expecting the war would last for a year or two, given the fact that the participating countries are fighting for prestige and dignity. But…to think the war would end over…"

Curious about the reason behind the abrupt end of the war, Poul checked the newspaper again. He found out that the war ended because both sides were losing thousands of n, the economy of the participating countries was crumbling, and there were protests in the holand demanding that they end the war. It was a disappointing end to a war that he thought would last longer.

Poul looked at Alia and said, "The Crian War started because of a disagreent between Russia and the Ottoman Empire over the rights of Christian minorities in the Holy Land. It's ironic that the war ended without either side achieving their objectives."

"Yeah, it's a bit more anticlimactic than we anticipated," Alia agreed, looking at Poul sympathetically. "But maybe this will be a chance for us to shift our focus and work on other projects."

"No, I don't think so," Poul shook his head in denial. "Now that the war ended, the orders from the allied forces and the Russian Empire would be canceled. That's a million-dollar loss if they cancel the deal outright. Speaking of which, did we receive any calls or letters proving that the orders have been canceled?"

"Not that I am aware of but if they call, I'll do my best to let them keep the deal by giving them so perks."

"Perks?" Poul tilted his head to the side. "How?"

"Well, for starters, we can give them so discounts," Alia suggested. "But if they didn't accept that, we could offer them so upgrades to their orders or even develop new products to entice them to continue doing business with us. That is if you have any upgrades or innovations that you did to the AN-M1 rifles?"

Poul leaned forward to his desk and propped up his chin as he thought about Alia's suggestion. He and Jonathan had been working on so improvents to the AN-M1 rifles, specifically on its sights, materials, operation, and trigger chanism but they were still in the testing phase.

Not only that, their arms manufacturing enterprises are exploring new designs that they want to adopt, which is basically based on the future. So, he could say to Alia that they would be improvents but they won't be ready. But he didn't want to voice it out so he shook his head.

"So you are saying there are no upgrades?" Alia raised a brow as she asked.

"Our rifles are the most advanced weapon in the world currently, and no arms manufacturer, despite its inception in the last three years, has managed to make their own design. Others tried but failed and even if there were no wars, the orders for it just kept stacking. Besides, I'm overthinking this. Those countries wouldn't probably cancel their orders simply because the war ended. Sure they can cut their orders down but to cancel them all out? That would be stupid, given the fact that the arm manufacturing companies in their countries couldn't create a semi-automatic rifle. So they'll buy it for the purpose of reverse engineering it."

"You sound so confident, Poul," Alia sighed. "I wonder if you can keep that smirk on your face if they manage to reverse-engineer your technology."

Poul scoffed. "They can try, but by the ti they are finished reverse engineering it, we would have another product that would be more advanced than the semi-automatic rifle, for example, an automatic rifle that a soldier can carry."

Alia chuckled. "Always thinking ahead, aren't you?"

Poul grinned. "Well, that's what makes us successful, right?"

Just as Poul said that they heard a gentle knock on his office door. Beatrice, the receptionist from the ground floor, entered with a concerned look on her face.

"Excuse , Mr. Nielsen. There's a prospector here to see you," she said hesitantly.

Alia raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you just use the telephone and inform us about this? Why do you have to go through the trouble of getting up here?"

"Well, I did, Ms. Weiss but you see, there must have been so sort of technical issues with the telephone. I couldn't contact your office or Mr. Nielsen."

"Is that so?" Poul's brows narrowed. "That's bad, I'll have soone to go check for it. In the anti, you can call them up here, Ms. Sumrs,"

Beatrice nodded and turned to leave the room. While waiting for her to co up, Poul looked up at Alia.

"Prospectors? Surely it must be the guys you hired to locate oil fields in Texas, Wyoming, and in the other places I told you to look."

Alia nodded. "Yes, that's right. They were supposed to give us an update next week, but it seems like they wanted to discuss sothing with us earlier."

Poul leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, let's hear what they have to say then."

A few minutes later, Beatrice entered the room again with two n in tow. They were dressed in ragged clothing, with boots and hats on their heads. They looked like they had just co back from a long day's work.

"Mr. Nielsen, this is Mr. Williams and Mr. Thompson," Beatrice introduced the two n.

"Nice to et you," Poul greeted them with a smile.

The two n nodded in return and took a seat in front of Poul's desk.

"So, what brings you here today, gentleman?" Poul asked.

Mr. Williams cleared his throat. "Well, sir, we wanted to discuss sothing important with you regarding the oil fields we've been surveying."

Poul raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"We've found sothing," Thompson said, pulling out a map from his bag.

He continued. "We've located several promising sites in Texas and Wyoming, as you instructed us to search there. We also found so other potential sites in North Dakota and Montana."

Poul nodded thoughtfully. "And what's the estimated yield?"

"We estimate that the fields could produce up to 20,000 barrels a day," the prospector said confidently.

"Hoh? How did you estimate that? I an, what thods did the two of you use?"

Mr. Williams and Mr. Thompson exchanged a glance before turning back to Poul.

"We've been using a combination of thods, sir," Williams explained. "First, we looked for signs of oil seeping up from the ground. Then, we surveyed the surrounding terrain for geological formations that are known to trap oil. We also took asurents of the underground formations using a variety of instrunts, including a gravity ter, a magnetoter, and a seismograph."

Thompson chid in. "Based on our findings, we've made estimates of the volu of oil present in the fields and the likely rate of production."

Poul nodded, impressed. "Interesting. How accurate are your estimates?"

Williams shrugged. "It's hard to say for sure, sir. We're dealing with a lot of unknown variables here, so there's always so degree of uncertainty. But based on our experience and the data we've gathered, we're confident that our estimates are at least in the right ballpark."

With that answered, Alia smirked. "You see, Mr. Nielsen. I have never been wrong when choosing people for the job."

"Yeah, I'm amazed by your abilities in selecting people for the job. Now that aside, in the Appalachian Basin, did the two of you find a potential site there that is not under the control of Rockefeller or other entities?"

Mr. Williams and Mr. Thompson exchanged a glance before turning back to Poul.

"We did find a potential site in the Appalachian Basin, sir," Thompson said. "It's not currently under the control of Rockefeller or any other major entity."

Poul leaned forward in his chair, interested. "Tell more about it."

"Well, sir, it's located in southern Pennsylvania, near the town of Bradford," Williams said, unfolding a map on Poul's desk. "The site is situated on the Allegheny Plateau, which is known to contain oil deposits. We've also found evidence of oil seepage and other geological indicators that suggest the presence of a significant oil reservoir."

Thompson nodded in agreent. "Based on our estimates, we believe that the site could produce up to 5,000 barrels a day, possibly more with further exploration and developnt."

Poul rubbed his chin, thinking. "And you're sure it's not already claid by anyone?"

"We've checked the records, sir," Williams said. "As far as we can tell, the land is currently owned by a small group of farrs and hasn't been leased to any oil companies yet."

Alia grinned. "That's good news. We should act on this opportunity quickly."

Poul nodded, looking pleased. "Agreed. I'll have my legal team look into acquiring the land and securing the necessary drilling permits."

With that, Poul and Alia get to work.

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