Chapter 450: Chapter 280: Old Gun

The boss led John back to the shop’s main entrance.

The new gun slung over his back was placed on the counter.

The metallic texture glistened under the lights, drawing attention.

The craftsmanship was perfect and the quality top-notch.

Plato indeed lived up to being a multinational giant, with every original factory part exuding a sense of industrial aesthetics. Just disassembling and playing with it could make enthusiasts’ blood race.

“Custom-made goods, huh.”

“Having trouble sorting it out?”

John extended his hand to hold the gun’s body, blocking the view.

“This is a new piece I just got, don’t mess with it if you’re not capable. There are plenty of opportunities to make money, but if you ruin this, I’ll make you a target at the shooting range and turn you into a beehive.”

The boss wasn’t fazed by John’s threat.

“Don’t underestimate the black market, John. Plato’s engineers might just come from the streets. No one said the East District underground can’t have a set of high-precision industrial equipment.”

He started disassembling the Maple Triangle, extracting the valuable barrel and setting it on the table in front of him.

“This is the Tegel speed barrel. Plato doesn’t dare mass-produce it because the technology came from a commercial theft. And the middleman who fulfilled that commission was Raphael. It was a long time ago, but who would’ve thought they already developed a mature product…”

The boss fiddled with the parts, pointing out design details.

He was showcasing his expertise.

The Maple Triangle was a prototype gun, equipped with the latest generation armor-piercing barrel, and there were no compatible components available on the market.

Buying parts would be a dead end.

But on the flip side—it was already excellent enough, with little room for improvement.

The boss began to confirm the emblem with John.

The gun’s body engravings were not as free as tattoos.

Complex patterns and text could cause excessive etching, potentially shortening the gun’s lifespan or affecting firing performance; therefore, the design needed to be based on its structure.

This was a lengthy process, requiring edits.

But Sora sent the file within seconds after the conversation was completed.

He didn’t use his own name, instead crafting a geometric maple leaf along the gun’s construction.

For the first time, the weapons boss showed surprise.

He didn’t question John about why he could quickly come up with a draft, nor did he presumptuously trace the file’s origin.

Soon it was John’s turn to be shocked.

Because in the East District underground, there truly was a weapons workshop.

He witnessed the boss take the Maple Triangle into a door secured with six protective measures; typically, such a door should appear in a bank vault.

“Amazing, how big is this underground facility? Do they have multiple secret passages for transporting raw materials…”

Sora fantasized randomly in John’s mind.

By looking at the scale, John knew this business was definitely connected to Raphael.

The weapon boss returned empty-handed.

He wasn’t responsible for specific processing but had a more professional weapons working group behind him.

During their chat, the boss confirmed John’s suspicion.

Raphael was in the mercenary business.

The automotive sales center on the ground was just one of her industries, while in the East District underground there was a complete weapon supply chain.

It encompassed smuggling, refugee profit-sharing, direct weapon sales, and original factory component supply.

Mercenaries who completed their missions always needed a place to replenish ammo, especially for weapons with special models, or perhaps use their newly earned bounty to upgrade their trusty tools.

Where there’s demand, there’s business.

Raphael didn’t waste her customer resources and made the business professional enough, focusing on a small-circle clientele.

John wasn’t surprised.

After all, even experimental products like the Maple Triangle were obtainable, and those mentioned above were merely done as a side operation.

The boss stood behind the bar, lightly tapped the counter, and lowered his voice.

“I’ve said before, this place isn’t open to everyone, and you clearly have the qualifications to get a ticket.”

[Contact Added – Old Gun]

The boss raised his hand invitingly, his prosthetic eye flickering.

“In theory, we can supply any type of ammunition, including some not available on the market, even those that are out of print…”

John understood the implication.

He didn’t forget that in the back of his Jurassic Armored Vehicle, there was a Hercules MAX.

It was a weapon given by Maya.

Special Affairs Bureau military supplies, smart scattergun, powerful, yet the custom magazine was hard to replenish.

Exactly, [Old Gun] provided a channel.

[Street Reputation Boosted, More Black Market Items Unlocked]

“Don’t underestimate this invitation. There are lots of benefits to it.”

The boss stood tall, his physique was strong, yet on that somewhat rounded head, the grin was unnerving.

“Some guests leave their items here for maintenance. Sadly, they never returned. Being a mercenary is a dangerous job; it’s not unusual.”

He took out an information terminal and swiped the screen.

“Our boss (Raphael) believes some things shouldn’t be kept behind glass, so the shop regularly hosts auctions, on a membership basis. The item list and auction times will be sent to your inbox, remember to check.”

John scanned the screen.

There was a list of highly modified firearms, distinct in features, each gun having a unique personality.

Beep—

The bar’s notification light lit up.

The boss went back through the thick protective door and returned the engraved Maple Triangle to its original place.

The whole gun was just as exquisitely perfect.

The gun barrel above the trigger had a piece of dim embossing, as if it were part of the design.

“From now on, even if Plato mass-produces the Maple Triangle, the one you have will still be unique.”

The boss helped John pack it up.

“My words are useless; take on a small job, find a damn fool, and fire a few shots. Then you’ll see this money was well spent. And when it’s time for your next prosthetic body upgrade, remember to adjust the habitual gun.”

The old metal door automatically opened.

The damp air of the East District underground market, the hustle of the black market rushed into the shop.

“See you next time.”

The boss nodded in farewell.

He picked up the chamois cloth again and started polishing a kinetic revolver.

John left the shop.

The gas in the underground market began to irritate his nostrils.

[“Old Gun” Shop (Unread Messages)]

John received a price list in his email, detailing the services that the black market weapons store could provide.

“You’re pretty lucky.”

[How so?]

“Among all the shops, you just happened to pick Raphael’s venue.”

[Okay, this isn’t luck, but their surveillance and security levels are freakishly high. I just wanted to check it out… Not a wasted trip, right?]

“…”

[Admit it, without me, you would never notice you had a bunch of hidden benefits going unused! Listen to me, let’s go through every store now, jot down all the services we could use, so we’ll have places to replenish lacking resources…]

Click.

John didn’t reply, quietly listened, and lit a cigarette.

[Am I wrong?]

“Nope, maybe you’re right.”

John’s tone was casual.

The condensation from the ventilation system splashed onto the ground at his feet, and underground market consumers jostled, faces full of worries.

“You’ve treated being a mercenary like a game, haven’t you?”

[I see no problem, organizing resources and preparing responsibly, whether in life or in games, it’s useful.]

“But the rules aren’t like that.”

John snubbed out the cigarette butt and flicked a shell casing into the trash with his foot.

“It’s just a bullet, and you won’t see tomorrow’s sun again. All the preparation will be in vain, and life’s punch won’t necessarily hit the shield you prepared.”

He knew the AI didn’t understand, so he gave an example.

“If your game’s account could be deleted at any time, could you still ensure you always maintain passion, suppressing, saving, and managing your account little by little?”

[I’m… not sure.]

“See, no one is stupid, but many people make a mess of their lives because disappointment can strike at any moment. Loving life is something that takes courage.”

The cigarette butt soaked in the puddle John was standing in.

[Transaction completed at East District Underground Mall. 2/3]

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