Frank introduced the weapons to a red-skinned alien as if reciting treasures from memory.
"These are rifles: the V-47 Flatline, built with a parallel recoil design to better handle large numbers of enemies, with powerful firepower;
the R-201 Carbine, with stable recoil for more precise shooting;
these are machine guns: the Spitfire Light Machine Gun, with a 55-round large-capacity magazine, theoretically capable of tearing through a wall in two seconds;
these are shotguns; Frag Grenades..."
"Everything's here. Hope you enjoy your uprising."
After finishing the introduction, Frank patted the crates and spoke casually.
His trading partner was called An Mo, a fairly well-known local "former slave warrior," one of the rare tough men who had clawed his way out of the Arena.
To escape Grandmaster's Arena and shed one's slave status, strength was not actually the most important factor. An Mo's performance in the Arena had been average, but he understood how to operate. After a series of maneuvers, he had successfully become the head of a scrap collection crew and built a team of his own.
Some people wanted to escape this miserable place, while others had grown accustomed to it. An Mo was one of the latter. He believed he could become a better ruler.
Although Sakaar was a garbage dump, its limited contact with the outside world had also made it deeply xenophobic. Its closed environment had formed a unique cultural atmosphere.
That difference showed in every aspect. For example, they certainly would not accept someone from the United States recommending a system of separation of powers to them.
So it was necessary to support a friendly new ruler.
"Earth goods... don't look like much." An Mo curled his lip.
Frank did not deny it. These weapons still followed the old design philosophies. Compared to the flashy