Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

"I think that would be all, Mr. Ambassador," Poul rose to his feet, and extended his hand, offering a handshake.

The Saudi Arabian ambassador stood and shook his hand. "I will speak with my government, Mr. Nielsen. Have a good day."

With a light tap on the shoulder, Poul gestured towards the door, beckoning Amelia to escort the Ambassador out of his office.

Amelia stepped forward with a polite smile, ready to accompany the Saudi Arabian ambassador out of Poul's office.

"Allow me to show you out," Amelia said politely, guiding the ambassador towards the door. As they walked, she maintained a friendly and professional demeanor, creating a comfortable atmosphere for further conversation.

"I apologize on his behalf for his bluntness, Your Excellency, I hope you understand the situation he is going through."

"There's no need to apologize," the Ambassador smiled gently. "I understand why he is feeling like that. He felt cheated. Even I would feel the same way. But his demands are going to lead my country into a precarious situation."

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Amelia glanced at him as if emphasizing the weight of her words.

The ambassador sighed, his expression tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I acknowledge that both sides have played a part in reaching this impasse," he admitted. "It is a complex issue. Even I was not informed very well about the problem. But nevertheless, I will do my best to convey Mr. Nielsen's demands on His Highness."

Amelia nodded and led him to an elevator, one of the technologies that impressed him in the United States.

Ten minutes later, Amelia returned to the office.

"The Ambassador has been safely escorted out," Amelia reported, closing the door behind her. She walked over to Poul's desk, her expression concerned yet determined. "Poul, I sensed a genuine willingness on the ambassador's part to understand our position."

"Really?" Poul scoffed. "It's not like it would help us in any way. Anyways, while you were escorting him out, I informed Jonathan of the issue. He had given his support."

"Is that so? Are they enjoying their time in Newport?" Amelia asked curiously.

"We can only imagine," Poul chuckled. "Oh, Amelia, our private troops are preparing to leave Pittsburgh right? Why don't you and I go together and see them?"

"Thank you for the offer, Poul but there is a lot that I need to finish, one of which is making sure that your exhibition of new technology to New York would flow smoothly."

"Is that so?" Poul hummed, standing up from his seat. "If you say so then. I will check them out myself…or with Sara."

"May you have a wonderful time, Poul," Amelia replied.

With that, Poul left the main office and headed straight to the clinic, where he would pick up Sara. The streets of the company town of Axelsen & Nielsen Corporation had changed dramatically.

Upon its establishment, the main mode of transportation for workers was the omnibus, a horse-drawn carriage capable of accommodating multiple passengers. However, times had changed, and the streets of Axelsen & Nielsen Corporation were now dominated by a new invention—the automobile. These mechanical marvels glided along the asphalt-paved roads, offering faster and more convenient transportation. Although public transportation vehicles were currently exclusive to the company town, the industrious duo had ambitious plans to introduce them nationwide within a year.

Don't be mistaken, the industrialist duo only introduce luxury types of automobiles for the upper class.

As Poul navigated the streets, he couldn't help but notice how the skies above were crisscrossed with a network of telephone and electric lines, further exemplifying the town's embrace of modernization and connectivity.

To experience the change himself, Poul hailed a passing automobile. The bus whose design is similar to the Ford Transit bus came to a stop before him, and he climbed inside.

Inside, he was met with stares and gazes from the factory workers who were on their way to their respective factories. They couldn't believe what they are seeing, the founder of the company riding along with them.

"Gentlemen, I see that you are quite in shock," Poul observed. "Don't worry, I won't bite."

Poul was met with silence as if the workers were speechless.

"Oh, guys, the presidential election is coming soon. May I have your word that you'll vote for me?"

"Can you win, Mr. Nielsen?"

Finally, one of the passengers spoke up, breaking the silence that had enveloped the bus. Poul turned to the worker.

"I'll be honest with you, the chances of me winning the entire election is slim and I know it. I'm just an Albian, a minority race here in the United States. Frowned upon by the white people even though my color is similar to theirs with my hair only being different. Still, I'll appreciate the people who would vote for me, because I take it as a token of their belief in my vision and commitment to change," Poul responded sincerely. He understood the challenges he faced as an Albian and as a candidate with ambitious goals for progress.

"I'll vote for you…Mr. Nielsen," the passenger who asked the question. "You've shown us that you care about the workers, about the people who make this company what it is. If you can do that to your workers, there's no doubt that you can do it to all the people here in this country."

"You got my vote too, Mr. Nielsen!" the other passenger exclaimed a spark of determination in his eyes. "We've seen what you've accomplished here at Axelsen & Nielsen Corporation. You've brought progress, innovation, and a better life for all of us. We believe in your vision, and we'll stand by you."

Poul couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude, it feels good when someone stands by you. If he were to win the election miraculously, he would never let them down. Even though the main reason for his joining was to counter the threat of King Alexander, the fulfilling sensation is just rewarding for him.

"For the better Avalonia," Poul chanted. "And I believe…this is my stop…sir," he said, looking out of the window and saw the facade of the company town's hospital.

The bus pulled up to a stop, and Poul stepped off, thanking the workers for their support. He made his way through the hospital's entrance, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of a bustling medical facility.

"I'm here to see Ms. Olsen…"

As he was asking that to the receptionist, Poul's vision darkened as a soft and delicate hand covered it.

"Why are you looking for me…" Sara whispered in his ears, caressing his cheek with her fingers. Poul's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand. He turned toward her, a smile spreading across his face.

"I am wondering if you can join me to see the troops of our private military enterprise. I assure you, you'll like it. But it has to be now."

"I'm on duty…" Sara said.

"Is there something important you must do ahead of you?" Poul asked.

Sara tilted her to the side and pondered aloud. "Just paperwork and visiting my patients, nothing too serious."

"Then it's settled, you'll come with me now," Poul insisted.