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Reborn at End of Ottoman Empire: a Misfortune or an Oppurtunitiy?

Transmigrated at end times of a crumbling empire, our pratagonist will seek oppurtunities of founding a republic.

TheVeteranReader · History
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20 Chs

Chapter 2: A World Unfamiliar

AN: Hello this is your author. First, I want to say, English is not my native language so I use chatgpt to correct my mistakes also smooth out flaws. I am not that fast at writing, frankly also not that good. So you constructive critisisims expected. Give me ideas cause this is a project i want to write. Bye, also stone me please? 

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Ahmet's breath was shallow as he stared at the Ottoman officer, still processing the voice of the quantum machine in his head. Panic and curiosity warred within him, mingling with an acute awareness of his isolation in this unfamiliar world. He felt a nagging sensation that he needed to think fast, yet his heart raced with the weight of his mission.

"Dressed like that?" the officer repeated, his eyes narrowing.

Ahmet glanced down at himself again—his lab coat, the digital watch on his wrist, the high-tech sneakers. Everything about him screamed "out of place." But as the machine's voice whispered again, cold and calculating, he pushed the panic aside.

**Engage diplomatically. Use language and knowledge to defuse suspicion.**

Ahmet cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain calm. He fumbled through his mind for the right Ottoman Turkish phrase, piecing together his response with the fluency of someone who had studied the language but hadn't lived it.

"I… am a traveler," he began carefully, his words clumsy but intelligible. "From… a distant province."

The officer frowned, stepping closer to scrutinize Ahmet more closely. His eyes flickered over the strange materials of Ahmet's clothing and the odd device on his wrist, but before he could question further, Ahmet's instincts kicked in.

"I'm here to serve the Sultan," he added, a flash of inspiration striking. **Offer yourself as valuable.**

The officer's demeanor shifted slightly, his suspicion still present but now tinged with curiosity. "Serve the Sultan? What could you offer the Sultan, looking as you do?"

Ahmet swallowed hard, his mind racing. The quantum machine whispered its calculations, rapidly reviewing Ottoman politics, key figures, and the state of the empire in 1839. He had landed in the first year of Sultan Abdülmecid I's reign, a time when the empire was balancing on the precipice of reform or collapse.

**It was the perfect opportunity.** Ahmet knew this. But was he prepared for the consequences?

"I have knowledge," he said carefully, "knowledge of weapons and strategies… that could strengthen the empire."

The officer's brow furrowed, but Ahmet could see the glimmer of interest in his eyes. Ottoman officers were no strangers to outsiders offering new military tactics or weaponry. Even if Ahmet looked bizarre, his claim wasn't impossible.

The officer's skepticism softened slightly, though he remained cautious. "Come with me. The commander will decide what to do with you."

Ahmet nodded slowly, exhaling in relief. **First obstacle cleared.**

As he followed the officer through the winding streets of Istanbul, Ahmet's senses exploded with the vibrancy of the city. The bazaars bustled with life, merchants shouting over one another, hawking their wares. The air was thick with the rich scents of spices—cumin, saffron, and the sweet aroma of dried fruits. It was a tapestry of color and sound, each moment reminding him of how alien yet beautiful this world was. 

Yet his thoughts remained consumed with the reality of his situation. He was in 1839. The quantum machine confirmed it with each step.

His arrival here, he began to realize, wasn't just a freak accident. The machine had brought him to this moment for a reason. It wasn't just any year—it was the start of the Tanzimat reforms. These reforms, initiated by Sultan Abdülmecid I, would attempt to modernize the Ottoman Empire's legal and political structure, pushing it toward Western-style governance and military improvements. Ahmet knew from history that these reforms were riddled with flaws, met with resistance from conservative factions, leading to an uneven modernization.

**The empire had never fully realized its potential.** 

But Ahmet had something they didn't—knowledge from the future. And not just knowledge of military advancements. He knew what lay ahead: the pressures from European colonialism, the world wars, the collapse of empires. 

**Ahmet knew how to avoid it all—or at least he thought he did.**

His mind whirled as he followed the officer through the city, each step echoing with the weight of his mission. Could he really shape the Ottoman Empire into a global superpower? The idea was intoxicating, yet terrifying. What if he made things worse? 

The machine's voice interrupted his thoughts.

**Intervention necessary. The timeline is fragile. First target: military enhancement.**

Ahmet's jaw tightened. The machine was logical, calculating, indifferent to the ethical questions swirling in his mind. It saw the world through the cold lens of probability and advantage. But Ahmet couldn't shake the human element. His actions would impact real people—millions of lives.

As they approached a barracks, the officer stopped abruptly and turned to Ahmet. "Wait here."

Ahmet nodded, glancing around. The building before him was imposing, with stone walls that echoed with the clatter of soldiers' boots. This was a military hub, likely one of the many garrisons stationed throughout Istanbul. The officer disappeared inside, leaving Ahmet standing at the gates.

His mind raced. He was about to meet a commander, someone with influence, someone who could bring him closer to the Sultan. But he still needed a plan. He had to position himself as invaluable without revealing too much too soon. 

**Offer simple innovations first. Build trust gradually.**

The machine was right. He couldn't overwhelm them with advanced technology too quickly. They wouldn't believe it—or worse, they'd see him as a threat. He would have to start small, introducing incremental changes that seemed plausible for someone with specialized knowledge.

As he waited, an idea sparked in his mind. What if he could draft a basic design for military technology right there in front of the colonel? Something simple yet innovative, something that could demonstrate his claims without revealing the full extent of his knowledge.

Ahmet pulled out a small notebook from his pocket just as the officer returned, leading Colonel İsmail Pasha into the room. The colonel was a stern-faced man in his mid-forties, wearing the uniform of an Ottoman military commander. His eyes were sharp, taking in every detail of Ahmet's appearance.

"Welcome, traveler," the colonel said in a deep voice. "I am İsmail Pasha. You claim to have military knowledge that could benefit the empire."

Ahmet took a deep breath, his mind replaying countless lectures, books, and strategies he had studied over the years. But this wasn't just theory anymore. This was real.

"Yes," Ahmet said, forcing confidence into his voice. "I have ideas for military innovations that could give the Ottoman Empire an advantage against its enemies."

İsmail Pasha raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident. "And what evidence do you have to support such claims?"

Feeling the pressure, Ahmet opened his notebook and began to sketch furiously, his pencil moving across the paper with purpose. "Let me show you," he said, his voice steady. "This is a concept for a breech-loading rifle. It can be loaded from the back, allowing for quicker reloading and faster firing. Your soldiers could gain a significant tactical advantage in battle."

He continued to draw, outlining the mechanics of the rifle and its potential advantages over existing firearms. As he sketched, he spoke with passion about the principles behind it—the advantages of a breech-loading system, the mechanics of firing, and the potential for increased firepower on the battlefield.

Colonel İsmail Pasha leaned in closer, his brow furrowing in concentration. "You truly believe this could be constructed?"

"Yes," Ahmet replied, tapping the page. "With access to the right materials and craftsmen, I can guide your men in the production of these rifles. It's not beyond your capabilities—just an evolution of what you already have."

Ismail studied the drawing carefully, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. "This… could change the dynamics of warfare," he mused, looking between the drawing and Ahmet's earnest expression.

"Imagine your soldiers equipped with this weapon," Ahmet pressed, sensing the shift in the colonel's demeanor. "They could fire multiple shots without the lengthy reloading times of current rifles. With this technology, we could outmatch our enemies."

The colonel's skepticism began to fade, replaced by curiosity and cautious optimism. "And how do you propose we manufacture such a weapon?"

Ahmet had anticipated this question. "It will require collaboration with your best craftsmen and engineers. I can train them in the necessary techniques and ensure they understand the mechanics involved."

İsmail Pasha's eyes narrowed again, still weighing his options. "You're asking for resources and trust. How can I be sure you're not leading us into a trap?"

Ahmet felt the weight of the moment. He had to convince İsmail without revealing too much too soon. "I understand your caution, but time is of the essence. The world is changing, and if the empire doesn't adapt, we will be left vulnerable. I am here to help. This rifle could be a stepping stone to much greater advancements."

The colonel's expression softened slightly, though he still looked unsure. "You will have your workshop, but understand this—if you're lying or if this is some kind of trick, your life will be forfeit."

Ahmet swallowed hard but nodded. "I understand."

Just then, the door swung open, and another figure entered—Mustafa Reşid Pasha, the Grand Vizier and a key architect of the Tanzimat reforms. His presence was commanding, and he carried an air of authority that filled the room. Ahmet's heart raced; he had heard of Mustafa Reşid Pasha's reputation. He was a reformer, but also a man who had enemies lurking in the shadows of the Ottoman court.

"İsmail," the Grand Vizier said, his voice smooth yet firm, "what's this I hear about a traveler with knowledge of military innovations?"

Ahmet felt the scrutiny of Reşid Pasha's gaze as the colonel explained the situation, describing Ahmet's proposal for the breech-loading rifle. 

The Grand Vizier crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in thought. "You're suggesting we trust this man to introduce changes to our military technology?"

"I am confident that he possesses the knowledge we need," İsmail replied, his tone respectful yet cautious. "His ideas could very well be the edge we require to maintain our position in the face of growing external pressures."

Reşid Pasha considered Ahmet for a moment, his eyes piercing through the uncertainty. "And what assurance do you offer, traveler? The empire has seen many charlatans promising change. Why should we believe you are any different?"

Feeling the weight of expectation, Ahmet took a breath and replied, "I understand the skepticism. I come from a world that is different from yours—where advancements in technology have dramatically changed the way nations interact, and wars are fought. My intent is not to deceive but to assist. I seek to elevate the empire, not to undermine it."

Reşid Pasha studied him intently, his expression shifting to one of guarded curiosity. "If you truly believe you can bring these advancements, we may have a use for you. However, know this: your actions will be closely monitored, and failure will not be tolerated."

"Of course, Grand Vizier," Ahmet replied, feeling a surge of determination. "I welcome the scrutiny. The success of this endeavor is my utmost priority."

"Very well," Reşid Pasha said, a slight nod signaling his tentative acceptance. "You will be given resources to develop your designs. But remember, you are now part of a delicate balance within the empire. There are those who resist change, and you may find yourself caught in their crosshairs."

Ahmet nodded, aware of the risks involved. The tension in the room hung thick, each word spoken weighing heavily on his shoulders. He was now on the precipice of his mission, a thread woven into the larger tapestry of Ottoman politics. 

"Let us begin," Ahmet said, enthusiasm igniting in his chest. "Together, we can strengthen the empire's defenses."

As they discussed logistics and resources, Ahmet felt a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. Every innovation he proposed would carry consequences, and he was aware of the thin line he was walking. **Every step forward could lead to unforeseen repercussions.**

Once the meeting concluded, Ahmet was escorted to a workshop—a dimly lit space filled with tools, materials, and sketches of existing weapons. It was a humble beginning, but it felt like a sanctuary for the task ahead. 

He set to work immediately, his hands moving instinctively as he sketched designs, calculated measurements, and planned his approach to manufacturing the breech-loading rifle. As he worked, he immersed himself in the ambiance of the workshop—the faint smell of metal, the clatter of tools, and the whispers of craftsmen discussing their day's labor.

As the hours turned into days, he formed relationships with the craftsmen, sharing his knowledge while learning from their expertise. They were skilled artisans, their craftsmanship steeped in tradition, but Ahmet sensed their openness to new ideas. 

**This was his chance**—not just to change the course of military history but also to bridge the gap between tradition and innovation.

Yet as he forged ahead, whispers of dissent began to swirl within the corridors of power. The more Ahmet engaged with the military, the more he heard the murmurs of those loyal to the old ways. Conservative factions viewed his presence as a threat, an affront to the values they held dear.

One evening, as Ahmet was finishing up at the workshop, he overheard two officers discussing the newcomer. "This man thinks he can change everything," one scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "What does he know of our ways? He's an outsider, and we should treat him as such."

Ahmet's heart sank. The machine's calculations rang in his mind: **Increased resistance imminent.**

He realized that to succeed, he would have to not only advance military technology but also navigate the treacherous political waters of the Ottoman court. **Every step he took could invite backlash or even sabotage.**

Determined to forge alliances, Ahmet sought out İsmail Pasha again, hoping to garner support. He presented his progress and findings, demonstrating the potential of the rifle design.

İsmail listened intently, but concern darkened his features. "The more you advance, the more scrutiny you'll attract. You must tread carefully. The old guard will not take kindly to change."

"I understand," Ahmet replied, his resolve strengthening. "But if we don't adapt, we risk losing everything. I'm not just advocating for weapons—I'm advocating for survival."

The colonel's eyes flickered with respect. "You have the spirit of a true reformer. But remember, reformers are often targets. They are seen as threats to the established order. You must be prepared for pushback."

As Ahmet departed the meeting, he felt a new sense of purpose. He was not just a traveler in a strange land; he was a catalyst for change. Yet, with every stride he took toward innovation, he could feel the looming shadow of opposition growing ever closer. 

His mind raced with strategies to win over the skeptics, to turn their doubts into support. The fight for the future of the Ottoman Empire had begun, and Ahmet was at the center of it. 

**The clock was ticking.** 

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