"You've used this gun for at least two years, haven't you? And you've neglected its maintenance. The rifling is nearly worn smooth, turning it into a smoothbore. The bolt and hammer are rusted too. That will seriously affect its accuracy and could even make it explode. As someone who uses guns, you can't possibly be unaware of that, can you?"
Dressed in a black robe, Old Neil was still sitting beside his mottled desk, holding none other than Angel's .45 caliber revolver. He opened the cylinder, aimed the gap at the gas lamp on the wall, and looked in along the muzzle.
Angel sat across from him. Seeing her weapon criticized as worthless, she hurriedly defended herself.
"This gun was secondhand. It was already in this condition when I got it. If it had been new, I definitely would've maintained it properly. I never would've let it get this bad."
"What I mean is, you should have come to replace it sooner."
Old Neil set down the revolver, glanced at Angel, and suddenly squeezed a smile onto his stern face.
"When you run out of bullets, come collect more. And don't use a gun until it's in this state. The others replace their guns two or three times a year, and most of the old weapons we take back are practically as good as new. Guns, like bullets, are consumables. Consumables!"
He emphasized the last word.
Angel's lips moved as if she had a thousand things to say, but in the end, all that came out was, "You're right."
Early this morning, she had come to the Blackthorn Security Company. Aside from reporting to the headquarters daily as Dunn Smith had required, the most important thing was to swap out her revolver.
She had originally thought she would be given a hard time over it, but Dunn had approved her request with a stroke of his pen. He had even taken the initiative to arrange a Nighthawk badge for her and apply for a "Weapon Usage Permit."
"Miss Granger, you wouldn't want to be stopped and questioned by a police officer while carrying a gun on the street, would you?"
That was what Dunn had asked Angel while writing the authorization slip.
Sweeping the strange thoughts from her mind, she handed over the slip in her hand. "A .45-caliber revolver, forty rounds of the same caliber ammunition, and a Special Operations Department badge."
"I was a bit curious the last time you came to pick up bullets. A girl like you, why use such a large-caliber revolver?" Old Neil took the slip, but instead of heading straight to the armory for the items, he asked with a smile.
"I believe that handguns are inherently close-quarters weapons, and stopping power and impact are more important." Angel answered honestly, which was also why she kept using the revolver left behind by Cole Granger instead of switching to a moderate-power, small-caliber revolver with a six- or even seven-round cylinder.
"Mm, a very standard answer. Still, I'd prefer all of you to use weapons of the same caliber. It makes it easier for you to share ammunition during combat, and easier for me, the one managing the armory."
Old Neil flicked the slip in his hand and turned through the iron door behind him. Before long, he returned with a brand-new handgun, two boxes of bullets, and an iron badge about half the size of a palm.
The badge was inlaid with silver lettering that read "Awwa County Police Department" and "Special Operations Division Seventh Team," surrounding the police emblem of Crossed Swords Flanking Crown.
The new revolver was crafted with finer workmanship than Angel's original one. Its wooden handle was carefully polished and bore the same police emblem carved into it, while the metal parts gleamed under the flickering light of the gas lamp.
One box contained ordinary pistol bullets, while the other held Demon Hunter Bullets. As before, they were packed in a paper box and an iron box respectively.
After accepting the items, Angel signed her name in the record book Old Neil offered her, completing the handover.
"Are old weapons destroyed or put into storage?" Angel asked curiously when she saw Old Neil place her old revolver into a box beneath the desk.
"Usually, we hand them over to the Tingen City Police Department for disposal on a regular basis. They dismantle and destroy the weapons to keep them from reaching civilians or even entering the Underground Trading Market. Civilian weapons are already widespread, but we still have to follow the procedure."
Old Neil answered as he nudged the box of reclaimed weapons with his foot.
"Of course, weapons damaged during Beyonder incidents are excluded. Sometimes those weapons become tainted with Beyonder power, or even turn into Beyonder Items or Mystical Items themselves. Handing them to ordinary people would be very dangerous. The Church has specialists responsible for dealing with them."
Angel caught the key phrase in Old Neil's words. "Mystical Items?"
"Any item that comes into prolonged contact with an Beyonder Characteristic can become an item containing Beyonder power. We call such items Mystical Items. Even accidental contact with Spiritual Materials, or parts of a Beyonder's body, can turn something into a Beyonder Item with spiritual power."
Leaning back in his chair, Old Neil spoke slowly, like a teacher giving a lesson.
"Most such items are merely tainted with power and cannot be used. But a small portion acquire Beyonder Characteristics and become Mystical Items with those traits. I've heard that the Church has Artisans who can deliberately perform this kind of fusion with ordinary Beyonder Ingredients, turning ordinary weapons into Beyonder Weapons with Beyonder Abilities."
Filtering out the tongue-twisting terms and concepts, Angel seized upon the main point in Old Neil's explanation: Beyonder Weapons.
Then where could she buy one? The question almost slipped from her mouth.
Old Neil winked and said with a smile, "You want to ask where you can get one of those weapons, right? Every Nighthawk who has heard me talk about Beyonder Weapons has asked that."
"My answer is: you can't."
"As far as I know, all the official Beyonders in Tingen City put together couldn't scrape up a single Beyonder Weapon—ah, except those fellows from Machinery Hivemind. They have Artisans of their own and can make weapons with slightly weaker effects, but much less danger as well. Maybe you could try your luck in the Underground Market by spending a fortune, or ask an Artisan from the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery to make one."
Overwhelmed by deep disappointment, Angel picked up the brand-new revolver on the table and sighed. "Well, it looks like I'll just have to use an ordinary revolver, at least it's free."
Old Neil burst out laughing. "I like young people who can find joy in hardship."
"But aside from Beyonder Weapons, there are other simple and... inexpensive ways to improve your combat ability."
Seeing Angel's disappointment, Old Neil added.
He reached into an inner pocket of his robe, pulled out a small piece of silver, and handed it over.
Angel took it and examined it carefully.
The silver piece was very thin, with incantations in Hermes carved on both sides. It was a script commonly used in mystical rituals, featuring complex characters and overlapping symbolic glyphs that covered its entire surface.
Simply holding it, she could feel a deep, tranquil, mysterious power, much like what she felt when praying to the Goddess at the Church of the Evernight Goddess.
"This is a Slumber Charm. As long as you recite the activation incantation you set for yourself—this one is 'Evernight' in Ancient Hermes—and infuse it with spirituality, you can trigger it. Its effect is to make nearby people fall asleep, similar to Leonard and the others' Beyonder Ability."
Remembering how Leonard Mitchell had recited poetry during the battle against Mrs. Sharon, making people drowsy, Angel nodded in understanding. This should have come from the same source as the Sleepless pathway, perhaps even directly from the power of the Evernight Goddess.
These pre-made Charms could indeed greatly improve one's combat ability. They were practically recreations of a certain Sequence's Beyonder Ability. Even if they possessed no offensive power themselves, using them unexpectedly could instantly tip the scales in an evenly matched battle.
Even if the Slumber Charm could not directly put Beyonders to sleep, disrupting an opponent's thoughts for one or two seconds would be enormously useful in a battle between Beyonders.
"The method for making Charms is simple, similar to the process you use to make special bullets. Engrave the incantation onto a base material and infuse it with spirituality. Their effects do not last long, usually only one or two weeks, but once the effect expires, you can reactivate them by infusing them with spirituality again."
"You have experience making special bullets, so I won't teach you from the basics. Take this Charm, choose suitable materials, and copy the incantation on it. You'll be able to make Charms with the same effect."
"Thank you, Mr. Neil." Angel had not expected such an unexpected gain and hurriedly thanked him.
"Just some basic occult knowledge. I happen to need to teach these things to the newcomer Mr. Klein Moretti as well, right after Divination—yes, you two can study together."
Klein Moretti... he had only just drunk the Potion in the adjacent Alchemy Room this week to become a Beyonder...
Angel recalled the moment she had watched him drink the Potion that day. Over the past two days, she had been busy making Storm Convergence bullets and constantly worrying whether all this was a test from the Nighthawks. She had not seen her new neighbor again.
Knock, knock—
A knock sounded, and the two of them turned their heads to look at the same time. A half top hat poked through the gap of the door, followed by the young man's face with short black hair.
"Sorry, did I hear my name?"
The person who had arrived was none other than Klein Moretti, whom Old Neil had just been discussing.
"Ah, we were just talking about you. I was planning to find time to teach you how to make Charms. Miss Granger is interested as well." Old Neil showed no embarrassment at being caught talking about someone behind his back. "Did you come to collect bullets for practice?"
Klein had already pushed open the door and walked in. Hearing this, he nodded and replied, "Yes, sorry to trouble you, Mr. Neil. Just the usual, thirty rounds of ordinary revolver bullets."
"Alright, wait a moment." Old Neil stood up again and headed into the armory behind him to get the bullets.
"Practice?" Angel glanced at Klein, who stood by the door, and asked in confusion.
The young man wearing a black vest and a top hat smiled and explained, "It's a task the captain gave me, to have me get familiar with how to use a revolver as soon as possible. I go to the shooting range to practice with thirty rounds of bullets every day now."
Holding the brand-new revolver she had just received, Angel felt a sudden stirring in her heart.
"Is the shooting range nearby?"
Before you continue