Chapter 6: Startup
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
For the latest updates, visit: ProNovels.com
Join our Discord for release updates: https://discord.gg/Eh2ayfR4FB
In Berlin, there’s a school called the French Gymnasium of Berlin (Französisches Gymnasium Berlin). Imagine a high school in Korea named “Seoul American High School.”
It might sound strange, but this school, founded in 1689, had a rich history. It was established for the French Protestants, the Huguenots, who were invited to Berlin, hence the name.
This school emphasized French and, unlike typical Prussian institutions, had a relatively liberal atmosphere. The students were more likely to be diplomats or businessmen with liberal leanings rather than militaristic nobles. It was also known for its high proportion of Jewish students.
Despite all this, a peculiar student was already making his mark on the school’s history, becoming a local celebrity.
“Chicks. If you see a strange person, don’t follow them-”
“Yessss.”
“He’s coming. It’s him!”
“Freshmen! Don’t be fooled by that weirdo!”
A long-legged student strode towards them, his gait more feline than human.
He arrived and sighed. “Don’t make me sound like a demon or evil spirit.”
“Shoo! Shoo!”
Armin Rosenbaum, the eccentric, had appeared.
As he began his usual prowling for fresh prey—freshman souls, that is—the upperclassmen went on high alert.
Legend had it that he’d pestered senior Brauchitsch (Walther von Brauchitsch) so relentlessly since his first day as a fifth-grader that the poor senior had fled to the Potsdam Military Orphanage. Since then, he’d been badgering the teachers for days, weeks, even months, about his obsession with flight-
“No, guys. Calm down. As president of the Aeronautics Research Society, at the forefront of scientific advancement, I’m merely trying to promote our club to the freshmen.”
“Bullshit.”
If he just kept his mouth shut, Rosenbaum would be quite charming. If only he ever shut up. He approached with a charming smile. The naive freshmen whispered about his good looks, but they were being deceived. Countless victims had fallen for that face.
“I’m not going to do anything bad.”
“I heard you forced a freshman into a hot air balloon you built and sent him flying to the outskirts of Berlin…”
“That was to enlighten him about the true joy of flight-”
“And what about extorting money from kids?”
“Extorting? I just asked for donations for the advancement of aviation-”
“That’s extortion, you idiot!”
“Listen. For just one mark, I’ll write your name on the wing of the first airplane ever built. One mark for a place in history. Isn’t that amazing?”
Sadly, Rosenbaum was smart. He might be a strange creature whose actions defied common sense, but his relentless pursuit of knowledge, skipping grades, and constant tinkering were admirable. Everyone agreed that a kid who, at his age, sent letters to the Prussian Academy of Sciences was destined for greatness.
“3 marks and 98 pfennigs. An incredible price! For just 3 marks and 98 pfennigs, you too can be a part of aviation history-”
“No. Go away.”
“Future of Germany! We are civilized people of reason! If the barbaric Russians claim the land, and the devious British the sea, we Germans must claim the sky! Humans can fly! The day the sky is ours is not far off! Young people with a spirit of challenge, courage, and unwavering perseverance, join me-”
“I said go away!”
Finally, Armin pouted and left.
“Who is he?”
“A madman. He’s graduating soon, so don’t worry about him.”
If he hadn’t been so serious and had acted even slightly more approachable, his “research society” would probably have dozens more members. Or maybe he would have given up on airplanes and become a cult leader or a legendary con man.
For the sake of the German Empire’s future, God must have deprived Armin of dignity.
A few years ago, when I started Gymnasium:
“Make lots of friends. Build good connections.”
“That’s too blatant.”
“You understand, don’t you?”
The sad, emasculated father of this era, overpowered by his elementary school son.
Honestly, I’d given up trying to understand. I didn’t even know whether the affair or the violence came first. I just didn’t want to delve into it any further.
“But why this school?”
“Is there a problem?”
“I thought you hated it here.”
“Why would I? There are many good people among the Jews. How would I work in a bank if I hated Jews?”
Oh. A rare example of a non-prejudiced-
“Dr. Epenstein, for instance, is an excellent person.”
Idiot… just an idiot…
I kept my mouth shut to preserve the thin ice of peace. Perhaps misinterpreting my resignation, Dad started treating me less like a son and more like a… friend? Not quite a friend, but more of an equal. This was quite unusual in this rigid Germanic patriarchal society.
When he returned from his business trips and had time, he’d explain economics and finance to me, and I’d dutifully absorb the information. Once I was established, I could cut ties with my family… No, wait, bastards weren’t treated well in Germany either. Filial piety wasn’t a uniquely Korean concept.
“Are you crazy?!”
“N-no. Men become adults through alcohol, so, as a father, you know…”
“One drunkard in this house is enough! Die! Die!! Just drown yourself in a river!!!”
“I’m getting beaten by my own wife, ow! Ow!! Wait, not there, ow!”
Dad, seemingly enjoying our drinking sessions, had started suggesting them himself. But Mom, upon witnessing this, transformed into a three-headed, six-armed monster, unleashing a storm of fury. Our drinking sessions were subsequently limited to beer. Of course. In Germany, beer wasn’t alcohol, but a beverage.
Right. This was enough. I didn’t care about the mess at home. It was the 19th century. Expecting a cozy 21st-century family was pure luxury. Even in the 21st century, “show window couples” were common. And in Jo Beom-seok‘s childhood, even in South Korea, not ancient Joseon, men having two families or concubines wasn’t unheard of.
Ignoring the chaos behind the curtain, I started Gymnasium. And from day one, I began building my image.
“I’m Armin Rosenbaum. My goal is to develop a flying machine.”
“Wow.”
“Is he stupid? Is that even possible?”
“I’ll build an airplane with my own hands within ten years. If anyone can offer capital, technology, or even a spacious warehouse-”
“Armin? This isn’t your investor pitch meeting!”
“Hahahaha!!”
What? What are you talking about? That was my entire reason for being here.
Why else would I attend this school if not to network? To learn French? Actually, yes.
I figured it was best to establish connections in France, an Allied nation, even if the possibility was slim. Germany would lose the war and be reduced to ashes. After 1914, this country would be in ruins, a defeated nation struggling to breathe under Allied control.
So, wouldn’t it be helpful to make friends in France and, in case of emergency, move my money and business out of Germany? I had a plan.
Enjoying the translation? Stay updated with the latest chapters at ProNovels.com.
And I was a diligent student. Really. The rumor that Brauchitsch, a future field marshal, fled school because of me was pure slander.
Let the ignorant fools who couldn’t see the tides of history say what they wanted.
My preparations were steadily progressing, one step at a time. By the time I was set to graduate from Gymnasium two years early, my name was already spreading across the world.
Time flies.
“Son, are you sure about this airplane thing?”
“Yes. Just trust me!”
“But… people are starting to say I’m crazy from doting on my son too much.”
“Whatever. Just give me another 1,000 marks.”
I wasn’t doing this because I was illegitimate. Really. Trust me. Development was progressing smoothly, and I could invent an airplane. For real. I could swear on Mom’s name.
In this era, people who dedicated their lives to airplane development were numerous and generally considered insane. They were like people trying to invent perpetual motion machines in the 21st century.
But I was different. For example, I built a wind tunnel in a decent location outside the city. This was essentially a place to conduct simulations with models.
If Jo Beom-seok’s memory served him right, the Wright brothers also built a wind tunnel. They struggled quite a bit because they didn’t realize the discrepancies between small models and actual-sized aircraft. But I knew this, so I was ahead of the game.
Moreover, the development of internal combustion engines and the commercialization of gasoline engines across Germany provided me with more options.
A twin-engine design seemed a bit much for now, but the idea of “placing a propeller in the middle of the aircraft and connecting it to an engine” was a major breakthrough. I hadn’t chosen airplane development as my life’s gamble for nothing.
However, to put the finishing touches on my grand plan, I was a little, just a tiny bit, short on funds. I wanted to sell the house if I could.
So, I made a bold move. I decided to find a sponsor. And at the top of my list of potential candidates was a prominent figure in Germany.
“So you’re the student who wanted to meet me. I’ve received countless letters of recommendation urging me to meet you.”
“I begged everyone I knew for the opportunity to meet the pioneer who has been dedicated to conquering the sky since before I was even born. It’s a true honor to meet you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere. All I get are insults, being called a crazy old man.”
“Then I guess I’m a crazy young man.”
“Hahahaha!!”
The old man before me burst into laughter, then abruptly stopped. “So, what do you want?”
“I want everything.”
Ferdinand Graf von Zeppelin. Count Zeppelin stroked his beard, his expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief. I didn’t waste time with words. I spread my blueprints and experimental logs on his desk.
“The prototype is almost complete. I need a dedicated engine, the heart of the machine.”
“It needs to be light, so aluminum would be the best material.”
“Who else would I seek advice from but the Count himself, who is developing a rigid airship with sheer willpower?”
“What becomes of me if your… airplane is successfully developed? What about me, who has dedicated his life to airships?”
“You’ll be the great man who conquered the sky by sponsoring an insignificant young man.”
Instead of answering, Count Zeppelin silently read the thick stack of documents. “Stay the night.”
“Pardon me?”
“I’ll need the entire day to read this, so stay the night. Is that alright?”
“Of course!”
Honestly, I hadn’t expected to convince him. As he’d said, the success of the airplane would render airships obsolete. I was prepared to be dismissed. But judging by the look in his eyes…
“You. Wait. Don’t move.”
“Yes.”
“This propeller. Why did you design it this way?”
“Uh-”
“And these wings? Why this shape? Why this type of wood?”
The man who had told me to stay the night didn’t let me go to bed until morning.
For the latest updates, visit ProNovels.com. Join our Discord for release updates: https://discord.gg/Eh2ayfR4FB.
