WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

45. Colt wants to buy the patent for the dovetail guide rail.

Because of his title, the French and even the British did not trust his words.

This guy is just a pro-German commentator, and might even be misleading their defense deployments.

The hat was unknowingly placed on Sean's head.

Sean could only smile wryly; he had done everything he could, but France remained proud.

"Sean, do you really think Germany will attack France?"

"Yes, even France could be defeated quickly."

"Oh My God."

These remarks were equally shocking, just like the Polish war, that not only would they be defeated, but they would be defeated quickly.

"This can't be true, my God, those were the Anglo-French allied forces."

"There is no invincible army in this world, nor is there an indestructible fortress."

"My God, would Germany really be that bold? I saw the Los Angeles Times quoting a French commentary that said they were already prepared."

Indeed, preparations have been made.

Sean smiled wryly, lamenting that France had misjudged the situation and failed to grasp the military transformation of integrated warfare. Gamelin was still advocating trench warfare from World War I. France's current use of tanks was still very primitive, just like in World War I. They only used tanks as mobile infantry guns to provide firepower for infantry, instead of concentrating them as a mobile strike force like Germany.

Sigh, Sean sighed. "It's too hard to be a good person anymore, I won't do it again."

dong dong dong.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Hanni, dressed in trousers and a shirt, greeted a group of people as they walked in.

Several of them were carrying a metal safe.

Jason glanced at it curiously, then got up to say goodbye.

Sean stared at the group of people with an amused look; these guys carrying the safe were the new tenants.

Haha, are they not even going to act anymore?

"Mr. Sean, here is the safe you requested. I met the Heidetts; they were unemployed, so I hired them."

That's a pretty good excuse. Sean didn't say anything, just watched the group of people walk into the room.

Hanni directed them to put the safe down, then walked out of the bedroom. "Sir, this is a dovetail rail. The engineers at Rheinmetall called you a genius."

Now that her identity was exposed, Hanni decided to let loose.

Sean examined the small piece of metal in his hand carefully; it was made in an American factory.

I rely on it to earn my own money; I'm not giving it away selflessly to others.

Just then, there was a knock on the front door.

dong dong dong.

Is Mr. Sean home?

Hearing the question at the door, Sean turned around.

Two people were standing at the entrance: one was Martin McDonagh, a familiar director of the National Rifle Association, and the other was a representative from Colt that he had met at the hunting festival.

Martin was carrying a leather suitcase.

"Hey Sean, I've come to deliver the weapons you ordered. Also, I have some good news for you: the board has passed a majority vote to approve Mr. Sean as the 76th board member of the National Rifle Association."

Martin walked in excitedly as he spoke.

He placed the suitcase on the coffee table.

"Thank you for your trouble."

"You're welcome. This is the Thompson submachine gun you ordered, and there's also the Sten submachine gun that Britain developed this year. I had to ask a lot of people to get it for me."

Martin opened the suitcase.

Sean stood by the coffee table with interest, looking at the two famous submachine guns.

Thompson, needless to say, was nicknamed the Chicago Typewriter.

Equipped with a drum magazine, it's incredibly powerful.

Another weapon, the Sten, is frequently seen in Chinese TV dramas; for example, the Expeditionary Force in "My Team Battle" uses a large number of these weapons.

However, there is a mistake in the TV series, which is that the actor likes to show off by holding the magazine on the side with one hand while firing.

This posture is actually very dangerous; it could very well pull out the magazine.

"Do you like it? We've provided you with a certificate."

"I like it, but I'd like you to give me two grips."

After saying that, Sean pointed to the bottom of the gun, "I want to add a grip here, and also add this dovetail rail so I can change the grip."

"A dovetail rail?" The Colt representative stepped forward, looking at it with interest. "What's this?"

"A small device that I envision for adding tactical accessories."

"Oh God, what a wonderful design!" Representative Colt exclaimed, his face beaming with excitement as he grabbed Sean's hand.

"Mr. Sean, Colt Corporation wants to buy the patent for the dovetail guide."

Sean knew how valuable these little things were; money, he needed money.

With a female agent and six elite soldiers by his side, he had attracted the attention of the Germans, and might even arouse the covetousness of the north and Japan.

He needs to start planning how to protect himself.

"Sir, this is just an insignificant little thing."

Hearing Sean's words, Colt's representative looked surprised, his gaze moving up and down Sean. This young critic was unlike the ordinary people.

Just six months ago, this man was working as a dockworker, but now, dressed casually with a natural expression, he appears unusually calm in the face of wealth.

"Sir, Colt is sincere in its intention to become friends with Mr. Sean."

"I can sell my patent to you."

We cherish your friendship.

Listening to their conversation, Hanni clenched her fists. She wanted to say, "Sir, Germany also has many excellent companies."

They will cherish your friendship even more.

No, Sean now values ​​the US military industry more; he doesn't want to put all his eggs in one basket.

"Okay, let's talk." Sean gestured to the sofa, indicating that they should speak.

Martin smiled obsequiously, pleased to see Sean gain support in the defense industry.

"We can offer you a $100,000 patent buyout fee."

"Sure, but I want to get a firearms sales license. I want to open a gun shop. By the way, as a director of the Rifle Association, I want the gun shop to be a bit bigger. I need an indoor shooting range, an indoor simulation range, a gym, and a combat arena."

"Sean, are you planning to teach shooting?" Martin understood Sean's idea.

"Yes, new shooting techniques need to be promoted, don't they?"

"Yes, we will promote Sean's gun-holding method to the whole world, and you will become the founder of modern shooting techniques," Martin said excitedly.

Sean's gun-holding style? That's Weaver's gun-holding style.

Okay, those details don't matter, I've truly made history.

Sean suppressed a smile and looked at Colt's representative.

"Fifty thousand dollars plus a large gun shop."

"Deal." Sean happily handed the finished dovetail guide rail to the other party.

The Colt representative smiled, knowing that in times of peace, the biggest customers are actually ordinary people.

There's a saying in America: Washington brought freedom to America, while Colt brought fairness.

Upon hearing Colt's words, Sean couldn't help but smile; the other party was demonstrating their strength.

"We'll have a lot to talk about in the future," Sean said, extending his hand again.

The Colt representative also extended his hand, saying, "We look forward to future cooperation."

The two reached an agreement, and after signing a contract, Martin and his men planned to leave.

Before leaving, Martin asked Sean, "Do you need our association to support some veteran coaches?"

"As a director of the association, I will help the members."

Martin nodded in satisfaction after receiving Sean's reply, and leaned closer to Sean to whisper something.

"Actually, I am also a member of the American Legion."

Sean looked at the veteran in front of him in surprise.

"Yes, the Rifle Association doesn't mind its board members joining other organizations."

American Legion.

That was also a large organization.

But that's not the point. Sean needs some elite veterans to act as a check on the paratroopers.

"Soldiers are always worthy of respect."

Hearing Sean's words, Martin opened his arms. "Is it okay?"

Sean nodded, and Martin embraced our critic, gently patting Sean's shoulder with his right hand.

An unexpected little incident brought the two closer together.

Emotional intelligence is sometimes more important than IQ.

"I'll take care of the gun shop for you. It can serve as a designated training base for the NRA. I'm very familiar with the Bureau of Guns and Firearms."

Your gun shop can sell any equipment except artillery.

Similarly, you have the authority to assess qualified coaches, and you can have the California Association issue them certificates.

The biggest advantage of the Rifle Association is that it allows Sean's men to legally possess weapons.

"Thank you, my friend."

Martin released Sean. "Since we're friends, there's no need for thanks."

Martin left with Colt's men.

Sean gently closed the door, while Hanni hesitated to speak.

"Okay, so where did you guys come from?"

Sean turned around and quietly looked at the six paratroopers in front of him.

Hanni's eyes flickered; Your Excellency had already seen through everything.

Heidett paused for a couple of seconds, then gave a wry smile under Sean's smiling gaze.

The six people stood at attention and saluted at the same time.

"Heidel, former captain of the Hunter Reconnaissance Company, 7th Air Division, we are ordered to protect you."

Protect me? You should be spying on me. Do you think I'm stupid?

Sean's eyes glazed over as he came up with a plan.

I want to transform these paratroopers into a modern special forces unit.