Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 809 - 72, Automotive Industry



The little actions of the French did not come as a surprise to Franz. As Austria continued to grow stronger, it was only a matter of time before the French felt threatened.

There weren’t many on the European Continent qualified to be France’s allies, and compared to courting the British, the French government naturally preferred to court the Russians.

This was determined by geography; the spheres of influence of France and Russia did not border each other, and even if there were conflicts, those were mainly historical issues, leaving the two with few conflicting interests.

By contrast, the issues between England and France were not just historical leftovers; they also involved a multitude of direct clashes of interest.

From the colonies to their homelands, England and France faced severe strategic conflicts. In those days, the disputes between England and France were still the main international conflicts, with even the France and Austria dispute having to step aside.

Besides the French government feeling threatened, the French public was still immersed in the glory of the Napoleonic Era, hardly taking Austria, the defeated underling, seriously at all.

The general environment also affects people. Otherwise, the French government would have courted the Russians long ago and wouldn’t have waited until now.

When it comes to interests, any ally is unreliable. As long as the French offer enough, it is inevitable that French-Russian relations would draw closer.

It’s just that without the failure of the Prussia and France War to prompt the French government to go all-out to court the Russians, it would be too much to ask of Napoleon IV.

Remember, in the original timeline, the French-Russian alliance was secured with hefty loans. As a consequence, the French Navy fell behind, surpassed by both Germany and the United States in the early 20th century.

The so-called naval detour into submarines and small vessels was not solely due to the French Navy’s high command being misguided; more crucially, there was a shortage of military funding.

Without money, what big navy can you play with?

A single battleship’s construction costs alone could reach tens of millions of Francs, and considering ongoing maintenance costs, harbor constructions, and a series of other issues, it’s not surprising that the cumulative cost would exceed 100 million.

While maintaining the Continental Army, to also build dozens of battleships would deplete the government’s funds, as well as civilian financing. Where would the money to court the Russians come from?

The Russian Empire at this time, although not as impressive as the same period in history, was strapped for cash, but it was still physically larger than in the original timeline!

Alexander III was not as easy to cheat as Nicholas II. If the French didn’t make a high enough bid, he would not be tempted.

Of course, courting would definitely have an effect. After all, "you’re short when you take someone’s money, and soft when you eat their food." It is certain that French-Russian relations would be eased.

If the price were a little higher, the political maneuvers more potent, and a suitable entry point found, it would be possible to disintegrate the Russian-Austrian Alliance.

As for expecting the Tsarist Government to fight on behalf of the French, this wasn’t something a small incentive could achieve.

Treating the Russians as the mercenaries of the age would mean they’re the highest-paid mercenaries around.

Yet, this highly-priced mercenary’s reputation was not so great, having taken money without delivering on more than one occasion. How could the employers feel assured?

Since for the moment he was safe, Franz was not in a hurry. Right now, he was testing out his own ride—the Royal Number One.

It wasn’t a battleship, which was not suitable for an Emperor prone to seasickness. The Royal Number One was a luxury sedan from the Austrian Auto Group, a symbol of status made expressly for the wealthy elite.

Made entirely by hand, an upscale work of art, not something churned out on the assembly line that could compare.

Of course, "automobile art" wasn’t popular at this time. Household cars themselves were super luxury goods, not something ordinary people could dream of.

The real competitive edge of the Royal Number One lay in its superior performance. Since it was produced for the Emperor, costs were of no concern.

The technology and craftsmanship employed were at the very limits of what the era could achieve.

A 4-cylinder engine, 90 horsepower, with a top speed of 120 kilometers per hour. Filled with a tank of gas, it could run at full speed for 3.5 hours.

Besides its incredible speed, the Royal Number One also had unmatched stability and superlative safety features, including special steel covering its entire exterior and groundbreaking bulletproof glass...

Franz had personally tested it—the bulletproof glass could easily stop rifle bullets, and the body of the car could withstand hand grenades.

Of course, this was only if the explosion occurred on the outside, protecting against shrapnel; if a grenade were thrown under the tires, it still had lethal potential.

In some ways, this vehicle, with a few modifications, could have been taken to the battlefield, to be used as an assault tank.

However, upon seeing the frightening costs, Franz immediately abandoned this tempting idea. The tank brigade was still a long way off in the future.

There was no choice, as most high-tech equipment was limited to the lab. Not only was their production costly, but the rate of defective products was frighteningly high. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Take the engine, for example. Out of a hundred produced in the same batch, only 2 had the full 90 horsepower. The rest were largely between 80 and 90 horsepower, with some even dropping below 70.

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This contraption is, more or less, similar to counterfeit devices in later periods, their quality completely dependent on luck. Even worse than those knockoffs, as their defect rate nearly impossible to reach ninety-eight percent.

With such a high defect rate even in small-scale production, it goes without saying that mass industrial production was even more appalling to look at, the figures were simply horrific.

Just look at regular cars at the time, any capable of reaching speeds of 40 kilometers per hour were considered premium, conscientious products.

Most cars could theoretically reach that speed, or perhaps maintain forty kilometers per hour for the first few years, only to slow down to twenty or thirty kilometers per hour later on.

If you were in a hurry, even horses might be faster. The only advantage cars had, I suppose, was a slightly better range.

If it was just a bit slower, it might not have been such a big deal since cars were still faster than horse-drawn carriages and more convenient than trains for short distances.

However, the failure rate of cars was alarmingly high. When they were first sold at the turn of the century, they required maintenance every two hundred kilometers, or after a single hundred-kilometer run.

Let’s put it this way, in the 19th century, owning a car meant not just having money but also learning how to repair it, or else you’d have to hire a chauffeur.

In order to sell more cars, the Austrian Auto Group has now installed a maintenance and rescue station every twenty kilometers, lifting everyone’s concerns, which solidified the thriving development of the Austrian automotive industry.

Without a doubt, these sorts of messes would not happen with the "Royal No. 1".

If it were to break down after a mere hundred and eighty kilometers, the people below wouldn’t dare to present it to the Emperor. Should there be any accidents, lives could be at stake.

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You get what you pay for, and the superior performance of "Royal No. 1" was also hammered out with money, with its total cost approaching 100,000 Divine Shield, nearly reaching the construction cost of a Pre-Dreadnought Battleship.

This epoch-making product still holds significant collection value. That’s right, collecting. Franz is essentially a homebody and seldom goes outside.

For long-distance trips, there are special trains, and Austria’s railways extend to every city, convenient enough; for shorter distances like hunting trips, horses suffice, no need for cars to get around.

If there was a wealthy man willing to pay, Franz really wouldn’t mind selling this incredibly expensive car. However, that’s out of the question.

The mere manufacturing cost was as high as 600,000 Divine Shield, and what’s crucial is the use of a bunch of new technologies, the pinnacle of Austrian industrial standards. It wouldn’t be right to sell it for anything less than seventy or eighty million, or it would be a disservice to everyone’s hard work.

After all, what’s being sold isn’t just the product itself, which might be worth at most a few hundred thousand Divine Shield, rather it’s the new technologies employed in the car that are truly valuable.

Disassembling this car to serve as a research template, one could reverse engineer these technologies much faster than developing them independently.

Without a doubt, it’s an impossible scenario. Regardless of how many of these technologies are highly classified and not for sale, the mere price alone makes finding a buyer improbable.

As good as technology may be, not everyone can afford it. Even the powerful British and French consortia aren’t yet technically proficient to fully assimilate all of this car’s technologies.

Limited by research capabilities, or different industrial systems, most of these technologies essentially cannot be simply reverse-engineered from a prototype.

Of course, if one had enough prototypes to experiment with repeatedly, then it would be fundamentally possible to reverse engineer them.

Acquiring the technologies doesn’t mean one also has the capability for industrial production. It is a test of a nation’s industrial standards; such transcendent products are not easily replicated.

If these technologies cannot be integrated into industrial production to create wealth, then purchasing the car amounts to acquiring an ultra-luxurious item.

Indeed, highly luxurious. Seventy or eighty million Divine Shield, when converted to gold, would be over two hundred tons.

Such extravagance could only exist after the collapse of the gold standard; it was impossible during the gold-based currency era.

And that is the end of that story. The super luxury car that propelled the Austrian automotive industry forward— "Royal No. 1"— ended up as nothing more than a collector’s item for the Emperor.

Even if it were to be sold, it would have to wait at least ten or twenty years until the technologies were widely used and no longer needed to be kept secret.

But by then, the value of "Royal No. 1" would have plummeted considerably—perhaps only warranting a few tens of thousands or even just a few thousands Divine Shield to produce.

When the "Royal No. 1" merely holds collectible value, its worth truly resides in remaining in the Emperor’s hands; should it fall to an average person, its value would drastically decline.

This is akin to antiques, even if it’s just ordinary bottles and jars, as long as they’ve been used by the Emperor and bear the word "Palace", their value instantly skyrockets.

Lacking artistic value, experts can still prescribe it; if all else fails, they can ascribe historical value to it.

After circling the Palace at eighty kilometers per hour, Franz promptly got out of the car.

No choice, not having ridden such a fast car in a long time, Franz unexpectedly found himself feeling car sick for the first-time.

Theoretically, drivers don’t get car sick, but unfortunately, no one dares to let the Emperor sit in the driver’s seat and take the wheel himself.

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