Chapter 146: Firearm Manufacture
Underground beneath the Grand Cathedral of Saint Raymond—the headquarters of the Sunwatchers.
Inside an ornately decorated room, Kien West sat with a pipe between his lips, casually twirling a quill engraved with a sun emblem in his hand, listening intently to Sherlock's report:
"According to the intel, Squad Three infiltrated Baron Rivers' manor in the eastern suburbs, but it seems the target was alerted ahead of time and relocated early."
"Can you confirm the intel's authenticity?" Kien West asked.
"Pretty much. The target didn't get much advance notice—just shortly before we arrived, they left with the objective. There were still traces on the ground that hadn't been cleared in time—I saw footprints twenty-four yards in diameter, about four times the size of a normal person's," Sherlock replied.
Kien West nodded and said coolly, "Then find the giant's trail as soon as possible. I'm authorizing the use of some unknown relics within the Sunwatchers. We need to deal with Harrison Rivers quickly—if necessary, I'll step in myself."
"Understood." Sherlock perked up at the order. Among the Sunwatchers, several mysterious relics existed. One in particular, the Microscopic Horizon, could, at a cost, rewind the recent events in a small area.
With that item's help, tracking down the giant would be relatively easy.
"Oh, and one more thing. Have someone keep an eye on the Chosen Ones within Bryston. If possible, try establishing contact with them. If we leave them alone, they'll eventually become a major problem," Kien West added.
"I understand." Sherlock nodded seriously. "I've heard Wayne Sterwell has been associating closely with the Chosen Ones, constantly in contact with them. Should we assign someone to investigate him?"
"No need for now. Just keep an eye on him," Kien said, picking up a mug of malt beer from the desk and taking a sip. "As for the Chosen Ones, you can delegate that to your subordinates. When dealing with them, maintain a friendly stance until we understand their leanings."
After seeing Sherlock off, Kien West let out a deep sigh, put the mug down, and sat back at his desk.
The domestic situation was becoming increasingly baffling.
Compared to the previous king, the current ruler, Charles VII, had virtually no presence. Despite the ever-dwindling gas resources, he had called off the war against the Walrusmen, allowing the massive iron behemoth parked in the western city to gather dust. That ancient warship, preserved since the Four Heroes era, had consumed millions of Vecktas just to get operational via alchemy arrays.
Meanwhile, Kien had tried more than once to bring charges against Harrison Rivers. Some of the evidence was already quite solid, but each attempt was vetoed by the king.
The reason? Harrison Rivers was a hereditary noble of the kingdom. Without definitive proof, no sentence could be passed on a noble by bloodline law.
As a result, not only was Rivers never punished, but he was repeatedly entrusted with important tasks. He even established several labor institutes across various districts like the slums and the docks, as part of a pilot program for the new Poor Relief Act.
If Kien West didn't see Charles VII in person almost daily, he'd seriously question whether the Kingdom of Bryston had a king at all.
If those early issues were only mildly concerning, the matter of the Chosen Ones now gave Kien West an unbearable headache.
According to intel from the Circle of Earth, not only in Bryston but across every nation, the Chosen Ones were appearing in overwhelming numbers—like marching ants. They began manifesting suddenly and inexplicably after a meteor shower, with no clear origin or purpose. They were fanatical and greedy.
Moreover, since their arrival, the weather had grown increasingly unstable. Darkland was seeing more snow and rain than ever. Even in Puyun Plateau and west of Golden Sea, bizarre meteorological tides were expanding outward.
Combined with the prophecy about the imminent awakening of Archmage Elan and the full resurgence of the supernatural, Kien West felt a chill down his spine.
According to legend, the gods could not be touched or even gazed upon. When they awoke in full… what would become of this world?
——
At that moment in the city square, Zhou Ning looked up at the sky. Snow had begun to fall without his noticing—and it was getting heavier. He didn't linger and headed straight to the steam train station.
The trains stopped running at 7 p.m., so by the time Zhou Ning returned to Darkland, it was close to 9 p.m. Soon after, a carriage pulled up in front of 117 Gibbon Street. Zhou Ning stepped down with his umbrella and took a moment to admire the snowy scenery.
Once inside, he entered the room to the right, where all kinds of equipment were stacked. After checking the inventory, he let out a long breath—there was quite a lot.
To do a good job, one must first sharpen their tools. Zhou Ning had spent nearly 1,500 Vecktas to purchase a full array of gear in order to build a comprehensive lab.
He winced at the cost when buying, but organizing and arranging everything was even more time-consuming. Even with his superhuman agility, it still took him nearly six hours to finish setting up the lab.
It was more exhausting than fighting a supernatural being. But looking at the result of his hard work, Zhou Ning felt pretty satisfied.
The lab was tailored to his needs: the front half was for mechanical work, equipped with a steam lathe and workbench; the back half was for alchemy, complete with racks holding test tubes, beakers, distillation flasks, and more.
Pulling out a chair in front of the mechanical bench, Zhou Ning sat down and began attempting to craft firearms without relying on in-game skills—purely through his own reverse-engineered designs.
This had been an idea of his for a while. Spending fame or using Traversal Coins to draw firearms wasn't a sustainable method. Even without blueprints, with his combined advantages of the [Tony Stark] and purple-tier [Research Talent], reverse engineering basic firearms shouldn't be too difficult.
Besides the famous hunting rifles like the Black Ebony, White Ivory, and those from Santos, Zhou Ning wanted to create a long-range weapon capable of extreme-distance shooting—ideally a large-caliber firearm akin to a sniper rifle.
Since he had already purchased the materials earlier that day, he could start right away. Thanks to his [Firearms Knowledge] specialty, firearm structures and mechanics weren't complicated for him. It was simply about using gunpowder to propel a bullet. Isn't that just… having hands?
Starting from the firearms he knew, Zhou Ning cleared his mind and focused entirely on building.
On the panel, the [Tony Stark] purple-tier talent began to glow.
[Custom design failed.]
[Custom design failed.]
[Custom design succeeded. Blueprint matching in progress.]
[Match successful… You have obtained a firearm blueprint: M1 Garand Rifle.]
Not long after, Zhou Ning's eyes lit up as the system panel displayed a notification. His first firearm was complete. After tightening the final screw, a rugged-looking rifle lay silently on the workbench.
This was a firearm that in his previous world's technological timeline wouldn't have been possible until around 1937. But having seen the finished product before, Zhou Ning had no trouble reverse-engineering it.
And this was only the beginning. Soon after, more and more blueprints began emerging: the Bulldog revolver, Springfield rifle, standard-issue Sunwatcher firearms, and so on.
Thankfully, Zhou Ning had plenty of funds and had stocked up on materials.
Gradually, his workbench became cluttered with a wide array of firearms.
Next, Zhou Ning used the lathe beside him to manufacture bullets in various calibers.
However, to his disappointment, he still hadn't successfully reverse-engineered a sniper rifle blueprint.
"Well, that's enough for today."
Looking at the time—it was already near 4 a.m.—Zhou Ning rubbed his eyes and turned off the lathe. After an exhausting day of running around, it was better to continue tomorrow.
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