Chapter 5
I carefully laid the revolver on the desk.
In my previous life, I’d taken apart all kinds of firearms while collaborating with a defense contractor, but this was my first time handling an actual nineteenth-century German Empire revolver.
The thing I’d only ever seen in diagrams and photographs was right there in my hands.
‘At last, I get to take apart a revolver.’
“Nanny, hold this for me. I’m going to loosen the screws.”
“Your Highness, are you really going to do this?”
“I’ll just check how it’s built and put it back together.”
“You said the same thing about the pocket watches.”
“Ahem! The me back then and the me now are different. The old me died and was reborn, so trust me.”
It had only been two months since I’d taken apart my last pocket watch, but a technician was always learning and improving.
The nanny held the barrel with an unconvinced look on her face.
I fitted the screwdriver into the grip screw and applied some force.
“Hnnngh……”
But the screw wouldn’t budge.
I wondered if I wasn’t strong enough, so I applied a little more force.
“Hnnngh—!”
But no matter how hard I tried, only the screwdriver trembled in my hands.
‘Ah... I’m five years old right now.’
In my previous life, I could’ve loosened that screw with a twist of my wrist. But these tiny hands of mine got tired just from holding a piece of bread.
“Your Highness, shall I try?”
The nanny, unable to watch any longer, took the screwdriver from me.
“All right. Turn it counterclockwise.”
“I know that much.”
But the nanny confidently took the screwdriver and strained until her face turned red, yet the screw didn’t move at all.
“……Huh?”
“Try harder.”
“I am. I really am...!”
After struggling for a while, the nanny finally put down the screwdriver.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can manage it, either.”
‘Why did they tighten it so much?’
Considering the machining tolerances of this era, the threads might have been binding. But I wasn’t about to give up here.
“There are guards outside, right?”
“Yes.”
“Bring me someone who looks strong.”
A little while later, a guardsman built like a mountain entered the room. He looked from the five-year-old princess to the revolver on the desk and the screwdriver in the nanny’s hand, his face growing uneasy.
“Your Highness, the Princess, did you call for me?”
“Can you loosen this screw for me?”
The guardsman looked at the nanny.
The nanny shrugged as if to say that she hadn’t been able to stop me, either.
“……Yes, Your Highness.”
The guardsman took the screwdriver and applied a little force.
“Creak.”
The screw turned with ridiculous ease.
‘Wow. So that’s the strength of an adult man.’
It was embarrassing to think that the nanny and I had just been struggling over it until our faces turned red.
“Great! Keep going!”
The guardsman looked as if he were wondering how his military service had somehow led to assisting a princess with taking apart a firearm, but he followed orders and loosened the screws one by one.
The grip came off, revealing the cylinder axle and the side components.
My eyes sparkled as I took each part and laid it out in order on the desk.
“Amazing……”
I even fetched a small magnifying glass to examine the surfaces of the parts. The machining marks were rougher than on modern products, but the main contact surfaces were smooth, as if they’d been finished by hand. The springs and levers had a few unnecessarily complicated features, but overall, the design focused on making the gun sturdy.
‘It’s less like a mass-produced product and more like a machine crafted by an artisan.’
That was only natural for the time, but to me, accustomed to modern manufacturing methods, it felt quite different.
The workmanship was better than I’d expected. It couldn’t be compared to modern CNC machining, but the hand-cut parts fit together precisely.
“Your Highness, is this really that fascinating?”
The guardsman asked cautiously.
“Of course. All these tiny parts fit together to turn the cylinder and move the hammer.”
“Is that so?”
“When you pull the trigger, this lever moves……”
The door opened just as I was about to continue explaining.
It was Oskar.
He stared wide-eyed at the revolver disassembled across the desk.
“Father told you not to take it apart.”
“I’m not taking it apart. I’m checking how it’s built.”
“But it’s all taken apart.”
“The more thoroughly you check, the better.”
Oskar hesitated for a moment, then came over beside me.
“Can I look, too?”
“Just don’t touch anything.”
He nodded.
Then, three seconds later, he picked up the cylinder.
“Hey!”
“What’s this?”
“The cylinder. Drop it and you’re dead.”
Oskar hurriedly put it back down.
I explained each part to him. Of course, I was seeing the Imperial revolver’s exact design for the first time, too, but I knew the basic operating principle from my previous life.
“When you pull the trigger, this moves the hammer.”
“Then does a bullet come out?”
“If there’s a bullet in it.”
“Is there one now?”
“The chamberlain has the ammunition.”
Oskar looked disappointed.
After watching for a long while, it was time to put it back together.
The guardsman had taken it apart, but I directed the reassembly.
“Put this part in first, then the spring.”
“Your Highness, does this go here?”
“Wait.”
Without a diagram, I had to rely on my memory. I examined the wear marks on the parts and the positions of the screws to work out the order.
After a few tries, the revolver returned to its original shape.
I carefully tested the trigger and cylinder.
“It works.”
The cylinder turned, and the hammer moved, too.
Success.
“See?”
I looked at the nanny and gave her a smug, triumphant grin.
“I didn’t break it this time.”
The nanny didn’t answer. She was looking at one side of the desk.
“?”
I followed her gaze and turned my head. A small screw was left behind.
The room fell silent.
‘…….’
I quickly covered the screw with my palm.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
“What did you just hide?”
“Nothing.”
“Show me your hand.”
“No.”
The nanny sighed.
I thought I might get away with it, but Oskar shouted, completely oblivious to the situation.
“There’s a screw left over!”
‘You little traitor.’
In the end, I nearly had to take the revolver apart again... but we solved the problem easily when we noticed a screw was missing from the side.
Before starting the second reassembly, I took out a sheet of paper.
This time, I drew the disassembly order. I kept it simple, using circles and squares rather than drawing the parts in detail, since I thought the nanny might find that strange. At least I could tell which screw went where.
“Is this the first one?”
“No, that’s the last one.”
“Then why did you take it out first?”
“Because you put it back together in the reverse order from how you took it apart.”
Oskar thought about it for a moment, then made a face like his head hurt.
“Umm... I don’t get it.”
By the time we finished the second reassembly, the sun was setting. Fortunately, this time there was nothing left on the desk.
I let out a sigh of relief and clapped my hands.
“Perfect.”
The nanny picked up the revolver and inspected it carefully.
“Are you sure it’s really all right?”
“Of course.”
At that moment, the cylinder turned halfway and jammed.
“…….”
“Your Highness.”
“New products need breaking in.”
We began taking it apart for the third time.
It wasn’t until that night that the revolver was working perfectly again.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, but I was in a good mood.
I’d examined its mechanism firsthand and understood how the parts fit together. Most importantly, I’d discovered that the manufacturing technology of this era was far more advanced than I’d expected.
‘At this rate, maybe I can make something myself someday.’
Beside the bed, Oskar was looking at my revolver enviously.
“Take mine apart next time.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I took mine apart three times today. I’m tired.”
“Mine’s a military model, so it might be different. Aren’t you curious?”
I thought about it for a moment. It did look different on the outside.
‘But it’s still the same kind of gun, isn’t it? Could the mechanism be a little different? Or not?’
My curiosity stirred again.
The nanny looked at the two of us, quickly picked up Oskar’s revolver box, and left the room.
“Absolutely not today.”
Then the nanny closed the door behind her and left.
“Aw...”
I gazed at the door ruefully.
Research ethics had to be respected, but it was always sad to have your research materials taken away.
A few days later, I got the chance to test the revolver at the shooting range.
Fortunately, Wilhelm still didn’t know that I’d taken the gun apart. At least, it seemed the nanny hadn’t told him.
I held the revolver in both hands and aimed at the target.
Then a maid took ammunition from the chamberlain, loaded a round into my revolver, and stood behind me, placing her hands over mine.
The recoil would have been manageable for an adult, but it was considerable for a five-year-old, so I couldn’t shoot on my own and needed the maid’s help.
“Your Highness, fire whenever you’re ready.”
When I fired the first shot, the muzzle kicked upward, and my palms stung. Even with the maid helping me, the recoil’s effects lingered for quite a while.
On top of that, the bullet didn’t even hit the edge of the target.
“Are you all right?”
Wilhelm asked anxiously.
“Yes.”
I gritted my teeth, took aim, and fired again. The second bullet hit the lower part of the target. Then I fired a third time, and it landed inside the white circle.
More important than hitting the target was the fact that the gun worked properly. The hammer cocked smoothly, and the cylinder rotated as it should.
‘All right. Reassembly was a success.’
Wilhelm smiled as he stroked my head, thinking I was happy because I enjoyed shooting.
After that day, I made a habit of drawing a diagram before taking apart any firearm.
I could always insist that it was normal to have a few screws left over, but it was better if there weren’t any.