His hard leather boots stepped onto the stone road of the port at Golden Wheat Island. Ed wore a loose beach shirt, shorts, a large straw hat, and a pair of short boots. He carried many bags, filled with all kinds of items to avoid revealing his secret Inventory ability; it would be too hard to explain to Sigurd otherwise.
"Finally home, and freedom from that gods-damned seasickness. Although the medicine Jenny gave me reduced the effect by about 70%, it's still hard to enjoy travelling on a ship."
As he said this, he couldn't help but stretch. The return voyage had been very smooth. They had encountered no pirates and had a calm journey, taking just over two days to arrive back. If only those bastards hadn't deliberately lowered the speed to make me suffer more, it makes no sense that with the same wind and no extra events, we arrived a day earlier.
He turned and called to Hols, who was speaking with someone on the shore. "Uncle Hols, we're leaving first."
Hols turned, nodded at them, smiled, and waved.
This old geezer didn't have such a friendly expression when he was scolding me and Sigurd in front of everyone on the ship just because we didn't come back at night. I'll definitely complain about him to Aunt Marcy. Let's see if he still dares to scold me just because he can't find a girlfriend, Ed thought, a disgusted look on his face as he watched Hols's back.
After finishing his mental complaint, Ed grabbed Sigurd, who had been saying goodbye to his friend for the past 30 minutes and still wasn't finished.
The two walked through the town, exchanged a few words with familiar faces, and returned to the gate of their own courtyard along the path through the golden wheat fields.
"Aunt Marcy, we're back!" Ed shouted loudly. There was no movement from inside the house, which disappointed him. He had wanted to see a familiar face, other than Sigurd, whose disgusting, smug smile about having a girlfriend made him want to vomit. There was a moment on the boat when Ed could hardly hold back from telling him about Raila.
"Seems Aunt Marcy isn't home. I'll go in first. I'll ask about sister-in-law at dinner," Ed said casually to Sigurd before walking toward his own house.
"Ed, you bastard! You swore on the Stone Mother's name not to mention it to Mother!" Sigurd hurriedly spoke in a low voice, looking around fearfully, worried someone might hear, and by tomorrow morning, everyone on the island would know.
"You should have thought about that before showing off to me on the ship. Now suffer! Even if I have to face the Stone Mother's divine punishment, I am definitely going to tell her!" After saying that, Ed, who was already walking into his house, slammed the door shut before Sigurd could respond.
He threw his bags down randomly, took out his newly bought bed, placed it in the middle of the living room, and lay down on it. Although he had woken up only two hours ago and it was morning, the lingering sickness left him feeling unwell, and he just wanted a short nap.
...
A while later, he woke up and felt much better.
"I wonder why Raila hasn't come to meet me yet. She probably didn't expect me back a day early," Shaking his head, Ed first drank some water, then sat at the table and laid out his real gains from the trip: a very small bag of coins, a pistol, a shotgun, a thumb-sized blue crystal block, and a box of bullets. Then he carefully took out the most important item, the map, and placed it beside the table.
"There are only 11 silver snakes left, and there were more than 15 before the journey. Sigh, I'm too poor," Ed muttered helplessly, shaking his head as he looked at the money.
After giving the remaining 5 silver coins to Yukino, Ed, who disliked the feeling of being poor and didn't want to use the high-denomination Gold Sails or Gold Leaves, thought for a few seconds and sold the two broken diamonds he had found in Jake the Magician's treasure. Each fetched him 4 silver snakes.
After dealing with the spoils from killing the pirates, everyone got a share. Ed, who had also killed a pirate, received three silver snakes, equivalent to half a year's salary for a carpenter.
"If I had known those dirty pirates would be so expensive, I would have tried to kill a few more... or maybe not."
"But it had been a desperate fight, and they hadn't escaped without casualties. One sailor had died on the spot, and two others were so seriously injured they died on Turan Island before receiving successful treatment."
But, back to the money. If the Gold Sails and Gold Leaves were included, his actual wealth would reach 41 silver snakes, an absolutely huge sum, equivalent to eight years of a carpenter's wages.
To be honest, with 41 silver snakes, Ed could live comfortably on the island doing almost nothing. This money was his security, and it also illustrated the high profits of treasure hunting. And that was without considering the more important gains.
Thinking of this, Ed looked at the two guns. He set the pistol aside and picked up the Locker-G3 shotgun.
With his current strength, holding it one-handed was no problem; he just didn't know what special abilities this weapon possessed. He had no methods or techniques for identifying them.
As for why he now had two guns when he'd only gotten one from treasure hunting: Sigurd had returned his after the unexpected pirate encounter. Having killed many pirates himself and earned a small fortune, Sigurd no longer wanted the old-fashioned gun and bought a new one from Hols, giving Ed's original back.
He'd said he hadn't fallen so low as to need his younger brother's help to get a gun. Seeing his determination, Ed took the gun back without argument.
"Let's give it a try."
Saying that, Ed opened the ammunition box beside him. The box for pistol bullets was a flimsy, thin wooden thing that felt like it would break if you bent it too hard. Both the workmanship and materials were extremely cheap. The model and place of origin were written in black on the box:
[Scoot Island Military Factory - Pistol - No. 3]
[GW455-6-4, DF.]
Ed knew Scoot Island was a very important steel manufacturing island for the Alliance. The number after "GW" was likely the date, using the calendar established after the Blood Gold Alliance. This year was 456, meaning it was produced last year. He didn't know what "DF" meant.
He picked up the revolver from the table and ejected the cylinder to the left, exposing the six chambers. He loaded the bullets, snapped it back into place, and spun the cylinder. After firing two shots into the air for fun, he turned to the shotgun ammunition.
This box was clearly much sturdier, with a waterproof layer and oilcloth inside, far superior to the pistol ammo box, as befitted its several-times-higher price. Ten rounds were neatly stacked inside. Each was a cylinder about the size of an index finger, a thin casing filled with tiny marbles that you could feel by shaking it slightly.
He took the Locker-G3 shotgun, broke it open at the hinge between the grip and barrel, and loaded two shells. After closing it, he placed the pistol in the holster under his armpit and the shotgun in the holster on his thigh. Picking up both boxes of ammunition, he headed into the yard.
Ed looked around for a target, then grabbed some wooden boards piled in the corner of the yard, stood a few up, and placed them a distance away. He retreated to about 10 meters, any further and he'd risk hitting the house wall. He drew the pistol and took aim.
Click!
As the trigger was pulled, the marbles shot out with a vibration. The gunshot wasn't as loud as the guns from his previous life, the kind that could make your ears ring for minutes, but rather a dull sound, similar to the vibration of a bullet inside a barrel.
From a little farther away, you might not hear it clearly. It seems to have a built-in silencer. Its concealment is much better than guns from my previous world. A certain dog-loving assassin, who likes to blow people's heads every time he shoots, would have loved this to death.
With a sharp thwack, the wooden board was penetrated. He didn't know if it was due to practicing magic and the enhanced body control the magical ring provided, but the shot was a precise hit.