Frank was pounding the rifle with an enormous hammer. No matter how many blows he struck, he couldn't leave so much as a dent. Sebastian watched from a distance. Frank seemed to have a lot of pent-up anger and was taking it out on the weapon. Or maybe he was simply testing its durability.
"Hey, Frank," Sebastian called, holding up something in his hand. "Want to try this?"
"Don't throw that! No, goddammit, wait!" Frank started running away from the rifle.
Sebastian tossed the grenade. By the time it hit the ground, Frank was already beside him.
Boom!
The room shook, but the floor, ceiling, and walls remained completely unchanged.
"Were you trying to kill me?" Frank grabbed him by the shoulders.
"No. You just needed something with more punch to test it properly." He pointed toward the blast. The M16 was still lying on the floor. The hammer beside it had been blown into pieces, but the rifle remained intact.
Both men approached the weapon. Frank reached out to touch it, then stopped. Sebastian didn't hesitate.
"It's got to be hot," Frank warned.
"No. It's designed not to heat up. You could put it in an oven and its temperature wouldn't change," Sebastian replied.
How was that possible? He didn't have a fucking clue. Not that he was about to complain.
"Holy shit," Frank muttered. "You're seriously only asking five thousand?"
"Now it's four thousand and eight hundred," Sebastian said irritably. "There's a scratch. See?" He pointed to a spot on the barrel. Frank picked up the rifle again and fired, this time between Sebastian's legs. "You son of a bitch!"
"Don't be such a little girl," Frank mocked him. "All right. It survived a grenade and still works perfectly. I'll take it on installments."
"Excellent. We offer interest-free plans of three, six, nine, twelve, and even eighteen months," Sebastian said with a smile.
"Eighteen months, then," Frank decided without hesitation. "Do you need the down payment now?"
"You have seven days to make your initial payment. Go see Natalia to finish the paperwork." Sebastian patted him on the shoulder. He needed to make himself something to eat.
"That woman isn't an amateur. She's a professional. She could be planted in your shop."
"Maybe," Sebastian replied. "But I'm safe inside this store. You remember that, don't you?" Frank nodded, looking a little embarrassed.
The first time Frank had entered the shop, he'd tried to skip all the paperwork and had even threatened Sebastian to make him sell him a gun immediately. It hadn't ended well. Frank had wound up paying a fine equal to ten percent of the weapon's price. Sebastian hadn't let him leave until he'd paid.
"Just giving you a warning. Don't get yourself killed over some pussy."
Sebastian let him go. Natasha would handle the rest. He hoped those two wouldn't start shooting at each other in the middle of the shop. He was too lazy to pick up the shell casings.
After Sebastian finished eating, Natalia went out to buy some food. She'd declined his invitation to eat with him. 'She's probably reporting to SHIELD,' he thought.
Ding! Ding!
"Welcome, miss," Sebastian greeted the newcomer. "Looking for anything in particular?"
She was dazzling. Silver hair, a beautiful face. She was tall for a woman and had an enviable figure, with curves in all the right places. She wore leather pants, a white shirt, and a leather jacket.
"Hello," she greeted him with a smile. She was definitely a femme fatale. "Nothing in particular. I just like old things. Do you have anything like that?"
"If you want something old, I can only show you bladed weapons. I doubt a submachine gun would fit the bill." He headed toward the right side of the store.
The store was divided into three main sections.
Firearms were on the left, bladed weapons on the right, and special weapons, those modified by Sebastian himself, at the front. Display cases separated customers from the weapons. Other products, such as ammunition, were kept there as well.
"They all look useful, no question. But I was looking for more of a collector's piece," she said with a smile.
Sebastian fell silent as he studied his customer. He already knew who she was, and he knew he probably wouldn't sell anything that day.
"Wait here, please."
He returned to the storeroom and started browsing the system. It offered every kind of weapon imaginable: modern, futuristic, and ancient, including magical arms and cutting-edge technology. He selected five items and carried them out front.
He returned with five boxes of different sizes.
"My," the woman said, eyeing the boxes. They looked old, worn by time but carefully preserved.
"This is a Mesopotamian bronze dagger, about four thousand years old." It was roughly thirty centimeters long, more of a relic than a practical weapon. You could fight with it, but it wouldn't be very effective. "This is a Greek kopis, about twenty-five hundred years old." He drew out a curved blade to show her. "A Roman gladius, about two thousand years old." He presented the short sword. "This is a Viking battle axe, roughly a thousand years old." Only the head remained; the handle had long since been lost. "And a Japanese katana from the Muromachi period. It's the youngest, at about six hundred years old."
"They seem remarkably well preserved for their age," she said with a frown.
"They are. You're welcome to bring in a weapons expert to examine them." Sebastian wasn't afraid of that.
The system listed them as follows:
Mesopotamian Bronze Dagger
Age: 4,000 years | Grade: 0 — Trash
A thirty-centimeter dagger with a double-edged bronze blade, an uneven central ridge, and small patches of greenish corrosion. Its wooden grip, cracked and fastened with rivets, showed obvious signs of age. Although it retained an edge and could still be used in combat, its poor balance, mediocre craftsmanship, and relatively soft metal made it a low-quality weapon.
It had cost him three system points. A bargain. The system priced and graded weapons according to their usefulness, not their history or age. What mattered was whether they were any good as weapons. He'd spent only thirty points on the five weapons he'd purchased.
"You don't usually put these on display?" the silver-haired woman asked.
"No. They're collector's pieces. They're fragile, though the katana might hold up a little better." It was the newest and best-preserved. "So, are you interested in any of them?" Get faster updates on g.com.
"Despite their age, none of them really appeal to me. I was hoping for something shinier."
'You want jewelry?' he thought. The cat in front of him was certainly greedy.
"Shinier, huh?" Sebastian went back inside. When he returned, he was carrying a silk-covered box.
Ceremonial Dagger with Inlaid Ruby
Age: 1,500 years | Grade: 0 — Trash
A luxurious forty-centimeter ceremonial dagger with a polished steel blade, an ivory handle, and elaborate gold engravings. A large red ruby adorned its pommel, surrounded by small emeralds. Its sheath was covered in crimson velvet and decorated with golden filigree. Despite its exquisite appearance, its construction prioritized beauty over function, making it a display piece ill-suited for combat.
[Price: 10 points]
"Is this more to your liking?" The woman's eyes almost glittered with greed.
"How much is it?" she asked.
Sebastian bit his lip. He had no fucking idea what to charge. The system sold it for next to nothing because it was useless as a weapon. But in the real world, the jewels alone could be worth a fortune.
"It's never been appraised," he admitted. "I can't give you a price. I'd be making one up. I sell weapons, not antiques. If you want it, I could arrange for an appraiser."
She smiled, a feline smile. She looked over all six weapons. Any of them would make a fine collector's piece, but the ruby-inlaid dagger was the one she wanted most.
"I'll think about it. I'll stop by again later. Keep it close, all right? Something like this deserves to be displayed, not locked away in a vault, don't you think?" She leaned over the counter, close enough that Sebastian could smell her perfume. Her eyes were green, just like the emeralds in the dagger.
The distant attitude she'd shown before had vanished the moment she saw the dagger.
"I'll keep it in plain sight, Miss—"
"Hardy. Felicia Hardy." She held out her hand.
Sebastian shook it. Her hands were soft.
"I'm Sebastian White. A pleasure."
"Oh, the pleasure's all mine."
"Oh, do we have a customer?" Natasha asked from the doorway.
Sebastian smiled awkwardly. Felicia was standing a little too close, and it could easily be misunderstood. Natasha was giving him a strange look, somewhere between anger and sadness.
Was she… jealous?
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