Christian frowned and said, "If it's so easy, then why are you coming to me? I heard you received plenty of funding from your father when you arrived to study here—and with that old man's contacts, it should be enough to attract workers and investors."

Francisco shrugged. "It's too much money and too many lives involved. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to protect my assets. And my grandfather is no longer in Hanover—he took his troops and marched toward New Granada. Even if some of his contacts would support me in exchange for a share of the factory's profits, I don't think I could find a better backer than you among the people he left behind. Unless I want to get involved with the nobility—and based on certain history books, that's not a very good idea."

Christian's expression grew thoughtful. Then he asked, "How much profit did you make in New Granada from that factory?"

Francisco smiled when he heard this—he knew Director Christian was tempted. He answered seriously, "When I left New Granada, the industry was only half built, and my grandfather was still taking over the flavored–aguardiente market in Spain, with some competitors still around. Most of our profits came from New Granada—around 900,000 pesos. My father only owned half the shares. I'm not sure how much he's earning now, but I'd guess between one and two million. And we don't handle the sales—those are monopolies of the royal family and my grandfather's faction."

Christian's eyes widened. His university received 50,000 Reichsthaler in funding from the Electorate—converted into Spanish pesos, that was around 40,000 to 60,000 pesos. Nine hundred thousand was almost twenty times their funding. Of course, Spain and its colonies were known for their wealth, so it couldn't be compared directly—but even then, the profits were at least eigth to ten times what the university received. Realizing this, Christian also began to worry. With such profits involved, many people would not be happy if the university earned so much money. Even the Elector of Hanover might grow envious if he found out.

So he said, "We can help—but we'll need to bring in more influential people. That's too much money for us to handle alone, and we can't afford to attract jealousy."

Francisco thought for a moment and sighed. "I can accept that, but who do you think would make the best partner? It must be someone who can't simply swallow us whole whenever he wants—someone whose power isn't too great, and whose ambitions aren't too high."

Christian considered it carefully, then said, "Perhaps the Baring Brothers?"

Francisco was not very familiar with the powerful and wealthy people of Hanover, so he couldn't help but ask, "Are they powerful?"

Christian chuckled. "The Baring Brothers is a British commercial house. I have some contacts with them. We can build the factory and invite them afterward. If the deal goes well, they can even use their influence in Britain and the British colonies to sell your product across the entire world. And since they are British, most people in the German states will ignore—or turn a blind eye to—the money we earn."

Francisco was startled, hearing for the first time about such a powerful company. He asked cautiously, "A British company? Wouldn't nobles be stronger backers than a company? And if we're in Hanover, wouldn't a German partner be better?"

Christian chuckled again. "It seems you haven't read much about Europe's political situation. You must remember: the Elector of Hanover is His Majesty King George III of England. That means we cannot accept partners from the German states. Also, British companies are among the most powerful forces in the world. They finance wars and can even mobilize the British Army if needed. Sir Francis Baring, the head of the Baring family, is a member of Parliament—and who knows how many other members are supported by him."

Francisco hissed softly. "No wonder you thought of them. But with that kind of power, wouldn't they just kick us out and steal the technology? And… didn't we say we needed someone not too ambitious or powerful? Doesn't this contradict the whole intention?"

Christian replied, "That is why I am here. Even though I do not possess great personal power, involving Göttingen University as a partner will discourage them. Not because they cannot steal it, but because it would not be worth it. Merchants rely on their reputation—if they betrayed one partner, every other potential partner would become suspicious. Trust is the hardest thing for a merchant to regain."He paused, then added, "But for that, you must obtain a patent in Britain for the upgrades you made to the still. That way, even if they try to copy you, you will at least receive royalties, also you shouldnt look for unambitious partners."

Francisco asked awkwardly, "How do I even get a patent? Sorry, but Spain and New Granada have no patent systems, so I'm quite ignorant about how it works. I've only heard of patents in passing."

Christian smiled. "Don't worry, son. Our university has a law faculty—they can guide you through the entire patent process. In three or four months, you should be the official patent owner. Meanwhile, you can focus on building the prototype and preparing to present the product to the Baring Brothers to attract their investment. Though personally, I'd prefer we wait until your patent is confirmed before we show them anything—just in case."

Francisco chuckled and shook his head. "So there's still a risk."

Christian shrugged. "Perhaps. Wherever there are rules, there are loopholes. The process itself is what's at risk. But with us supporting you, things will be much easier—and as my student, I'll make sure your interests are protected, for our benefit as well."

Francisco understood. If their partnership succeeded, others like him might also approach the university for support in the future.

After they finished discussing business, Francisco asked, "Do you know anyone who can help me build the factory?"

Christian thought for a moment, then asked cautiously, "That depends. With your Roman cement, construction would go much faster."

Francisco cursed inwardly. Old fox—you're trying to nudge me into giving up the Roman cement monopoly.Still, he asked, "But if you already know how to make it, why expect me to do it myself? Wouldn't it be better to build it yourself? Actually, I heard people in Naples are already trying to make their own Roman cement—after all, it was the Romans who invented it first. I'm sure some people in the German states are attempting the same. I doubt the profits are high enough to justify all this trouble."

Christian shrugged again. "I've heard that as well, but it seems they're having trouble with the proportions. It might take them months to perfect it. And there isn't enough demand yet—builders aren't rushing to buy it."

Francisco frowned. "Why? With the strength and speed of Roman cement, it's clearly more useful than pure lime."

Christian chuckled. "Because now that it exists, regular mortar has become cheaper. Builders are torn between the two. Workshop owners usually choose the cheapest option, and for houses, only the wealthy might consider Roman cement—but even they are cautious. They've never used it before, so they're unsure whether it truly is as strong as people claim. It's a mess. If you produce it, the reputation alone—coming from the one who rediscovered it—will help. And I'm certain you improved Vitruvius' formula, didn't you?"

Francisco let out a nervous chuckle, confirming Christian's suspicion, which only made the old man more confident. "So," Christian asked, "are you willing to produce it here?"

Francisco sighed. "I can, but the problem is the pozzolana. Do you know if there's any in the German states?"

Christian nodded. "In Trass. It's part of the Electorate of Cologne, and we already have extensive trade with them, so relations are good."

Francisco continued, "And the workers? Also—where would be the best place to build the factory in Hanover? I doubt you want it here in Göttingen."

Christian shook his head. "Of course not. I was thinking of Hameln. It's on the Weser River, which would make transportation easier and reduce costs."

Francisco trough for a while, christian besides him waited in silence while drinking a cup of tea, after a while a little resignate francisco sighing say "Fine. Then let's prepare." He stood, gave a formal bow, and said, "I'll speak with Catalina about it. She's my administrator."

Christian chuckled and waved him off, clearly not believing that Francisco would truly leave such an enormous business—one worth hundreds, perhaps even millions of pesos—in the hands of a woman like Catalina.

Seeing this, Francisco felt a spark of irritation. he was clearly to tired of people understatimating catalina so He stepped forward and said sharply,

"Director, I respect you a lot, but you should know that Catalina is the person I trust the most. Even if you doubt her abilities, you shouldn't doubt my trust and willingness to leave all of that responsibility in her hands."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out, still visibly upset. Christian remained seated, confused by the sudden change to hostility.

He muttered to himself, "Is he really so influenced by that girl…?"

Shaking his head, he sighed. "Youthful stubbornness…"

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