The Adorable Gunsmith

"Mom, the warband's strategist is dead. Will they come after you?"

Elena remained worried afterward, concerned for Glory's safety.

All she knew was that the War King was incredibly powerful, but Elena knew nothing about the consequences of killing the Warband's Chief of Staff or who would be resented by him.

Society, like a melting pot, has completely changed this young girl. Even though her social circle is limited to the Valhalla Palace, she knows the saying "the nail that sticks out gets hammered down." In the brothels of the White Shark Association, no matter how outstanding a courtesan is, she still has to learn to cultivate relationships, ask people to send gifts, and exchange guest lists with her sisters in a friendly manner to establish long-term business dealings. Only in this way can she successfully run her business of selling herself into slavery.

"They don't like me," Glory answered truthfully. "The relationship faded after the gunsmith died—and I don't care about the friendship anyway."

"Why?" Elena couldn't understand. "You were clearly protecting them. I've read your story. The gunsmith is Mom's brother, right? Do they only respect men? Don't they like you, a woman?"

"It has nothing to do with men or women. Don't complicate simple things, Elena." Glory explained as she drove, "As the saying goes, no one visits a temple without a reason. What good do you think it would do for these soldiers if I, an unknown person and a secret agent of the Ming De, went to the battlefield for no reason? Am I there to sing and dance for them to boost morale?"

Elena, being quite clever, immediately understood. "If you go to the military camp, they'll all have to stand at attention and be inspected. If they have something to hide, you'll drag them all to the firing range and shoot them."

"Yes," Glory replied, "I only bring casualties. With this kind of ingrained thinking, whichever warband I go to, the brothers in that warband will always find that their friends and family have suddenly become heinous criminals, as if I personally tore apart their brotherhood and turned them into enemies."

During these six years of expeditions, unless it was a life-or-death crisis, few chapters regarded the War King as a benefactor; instead, they became enemies vying for credit. This was also related to Glory's role in eradicating evil—her killing efficiency was extremely high. Whether it was an open enemy or one hidden within a chapter's ranks, as long as evidence of their crimes was found, she would kill them without exception.

"Gunsmiths are different; the soldiers all find them endearing."

As mentioned before, the gunsmith's death caused the Nameless One and the Warband to drift apart, and some soldiers in certain areas no longer accepted the Nameless One's command. This was because the gunsmith never concerned himself with the corruption within Guangling Zhixi, leaving these issues to the think tank of Ming De. Not only that, the gunsmith also made Flash Butterfly Armor for the Warband's leaders, adjusted the soldiers' armaments, and was also the teacher of most of the young reserve soldiers.

Julian and his son Juseberg had also received a favor from the gunsmith; years ago, during the operation to wipe out the Madness Butterfly Sect, it was the nameless man who helped them avenge their blood feud.

Today, the vast majority of the militia units of the three factions in Lieyang Fort grew up watching the Gunsmith's online "Knight's Combat Skills" course, not to mention the outstanding warriors in the warband. These young men have more or less participated in Galahad's special training courses and have met the Gunsmith once, so they can be considered his direct disciples.

A teacher who gives you armor and weapons and imparts divine skills—let alone whether the battle groups and militia units will listen to the gunsmith—their fathers and mothers will also expect their children to repay the kindness.

After all, in their parents' eyes, their children are constantly on the front lines, fighting for their lives against the Madness Butterfly Cult and the War Gang, and battling criminals. It was the gunsmith's skills that saved their children's lives, and this debt of gratitude alone could determine who would temporarily take command of the warband.

At the same time, this favor only extends to the gunsmith and to this small amount of benefit; it will not extend from the gunsmith to the War King and the Nameless One. Unless Ming De personally speaks up and the governor approves and stamps the document, the Nameless One cannot summon Guangling Zhixi for help.

Glory explained the implications to Elena, but Elena grew increasingly worried. "Mom! Won't they make things difficult for you?"

"Report me? Haven't I been doing this all along? How do you think I've managed for the past six or seven years? There are definitely enough complaint letters in the mailbox. They say I've gone too far, too cruel, and all those letters have become toilet paper for Ming De." Glory explained patiently, "I know the principle that extreme rigidity is easily broken, but the BOSS wants me to be the War King, so I have to go all the way— the Julian family used to be my comrades, but unfortunately they aren't anymore."

"I am like you, Elena. We are class sisters. When Julian was about to devour human flesh, he was my mortal enemy—not just him, but anyone who goes to his home and says a good word for him is a suspect in becoming a cannibal."

"Where?" Elena chuckled, thinking the War King was joking. "You're like me? Mom! You're such a joker."

"I am the child of a criminal," Glory said earnestly. "I was just lucky not to be born in this hellhole of Lieyang Fort, and I was able to get a job, to work hard with these hands that are good at killing—otherwise I would have become you, Elena, I would have become another you."

Elena listened for a while, but then fell silent.

Glory continued, "I honed my skills, grew stronger, and killed one ogre after another. Was this power bought with money? Did money give me the peace of mind to behead demons? Did money urge me to hurry up and kill? No! No."

"I'm not the kind of person who does things for money. I always tell myself – you should think more about why?"

Why Elena go to Valhalla to become a prostitute? Was it because she wasn't kind enough? Hardworking enough? Diligent enough? Lacking talent? Did she deserve to become a prostitute?

"None of these are right. Elena is a victim. She is my sister. General of Tears understands this better than I do. All that I've said is probably less effective than a few words from Meteor. He has always been a clear-headed and honest person."

"If I had to give a reason, then I would only have one answer: I hate cannibals and the human flesh trade."

"When I kill these lamppost ornaments, I feel a strong sense of euphoria—it transcends simple exchanges of benefits, and it transcends so-called [morality and ethics] and [common sense]. I feel distressed when I see someone being wronged or suffering injustice. If there are demons gnawing at the flesh of the good, I will start sharpening my knife and can't wait to cut off heads."

"The BOSS has painstakingly nurtured so many underground people. It has never spoken of any special privileges, never built a single shrine, and never persecuted the working masses. It demands that people break free from superstition and speak to it standing up—so don't talk to me about procedural justice. I am, by nature, a lawless person. The BOSS wants me to become the War King, so I will obey its orders and do as it says."

Elena was spinning after hearing such a long string of words, but her eyes lit up when she heard the last few sentences.

"Having a cat to back you up means you can do whatever you want, right?!"

Glory laughed and replied, "Having a good cat to back you up means you can do whatever you want, you're right."

Arriving at the northeastern corner of the city, at the East Industrial Park, the most developed area for heavy industry, this is the early foundation of Lieyang Fort and the lifeblood of the city.

When the chapter carries out pioneering missions, the engineering corps needs a large amount of steel and building materials, weapons to deal with the monsters, and various chemicals to improve the environment. The chapter headquarters and City Hall of Lieyang Fort are located here.

If your memory serves you well, you should recall the special task force from Yangjiang Water Vein responsible for investigating the Cherry Shell case. The original purpose of this team was to demand another protection fee from George Joshua —if he didn't pay this protection fee to the warband, George Joshua would have to spend even more money to protect his drug-smuggling ships.

However, by sheer chance, two hotheads, Clark Sean and Banner Ibgi, emerged from this team, directly causing Mr. Guland Walker, the head of the anti-drug unit, to be laid off early and transferred to the harsh frontier—because this team was disobedient, broke the rules of the combat group, and ruined the business of Koruyaf and his men.

In the end, the brigade leader did not accept the transfer order. He could not leave his wife and children, so he had no choice but to resign and open a pawn shop near the City Hall, dealing in second-hand goods.

Occasionally, Clark and Banner would visit the Goodwill Corps. They had received favors from the Corps in the past, and Clark eventually attended Mr. Goodwill's farewell party. Although the process was not very pleasant, the result was always good.

The former fighting hero who protected the people has now become an ordinary, shrewd shopkeeper in a flea market. Guland's heart is filled with mixed feelings, and he doesn't know what to say.

The Apollo City Hall in Lieyang Fort and the meeting center of the District 54 Chapter are just two streets away, only about 180 meters apart. Climb up to the second-floor terrace of the store and you can see Mr. Fantastic's Chapter insignia.

It was a statue, the image of a circus strongman, a middle-aged black-haired man with a thick beard, giving Thumb to every citizen. It was once a promise, a symbol—that as long as the "Mr. Miracle" of Guangling Zhixi came to people's side, they could turn bad luck into good and get rid of disasters.

"Hey, Captain, what are you looking at?" Banner, a young man carrying goods on the first floor, casually scolded, "Don't slack off! Even though you're my boss, don't just stand by and watch while I'm working!"

Mr. Guland immediately ran down, took the refrigerator from Banner's back, and then told Clark to drive the tricycle into the store.

"Clark! Come in a little! Come in a little! We're still four or five meters away! How are we going to get you on the cart?"

A head popped out from beside the tricycle, and Clark asked impatiently, "What did you call me?!"

Guland was both amused and exasperated: "Strawberry mousse mini cakes"

"It's a matcha mousse cake!" Clark Sean was still under the spell of [Hell Highway]. "Calling someone by the wrong name is very rude! Boss! You never really cared about me before, did you?!"

Guland asked Banner in a low voice, "What's wrong with Clark?"

"I don't know," Banner replied softly. "Ever since the White Shark Association destroyed, Clark's personality hasn't changed much, but mentioning this name is like tickling his funny bone. He must have gone mad."

Guland only felt regret--

Clark was once a young man he highly valued; perhaps Lieyang Fort has driven another normal person mad.

Once all the goods have been unloaded, Mr. Guland will appraise these secondhand items and resell them elsewhere. There are many poor families in Lieyang Fort who cannot afford the secondhand goods sold in Easthill and Westbrook.

Guland intends to slowly repair these broken household appliances and then resell them to the southwest and southeast districts.

Banner and Clark squatted down beside the commander, watching him work with curiosity.

"You can fix refrigerators? Chief?" Banner asked. "You're quite talented!"

Mr. Grand pulled a wrench from his tool bag and gently tapped the Four Eyes on the forehead. "You've been taught knightly combat techniques."

Clark, a warrior well-versed in knightly combat techniques, had never heard of such a strange thing. "Where was it taught? There was never any! You're lying!"

Guland: "The third chapter of the Six Arts Heart Sutra, Archery, discusses the compressor structure of common refrigeration appliances, as well as the tactical and technical applications of refrigerants as explosives and compressed gases. Take a look at this chapter; it talks about several common refrigerators."

"Oh," Clark hurriedly rummaged through his bag, but couldn't find the booklet. He finally found the corresponding structural diagram on his phone.

Guland opened the refrigerator door, threw out all the expired and spoiled household waste, and removed all the protective panels.

"The compressor is broken, and some of the circuitry is corroded. It's probably because the refrigerator tipped over during transport, causing the liquid storage containers to crack. That's easy to fix; I'll order a few parts and it'll be done."

Banner immediately began flattering the brigade. "Awesome!"

Clark, oblivious to social niceties, asked in a low voice, "Mr. Guland has already been laid off, why are you still fawning over him?"

"I think you have absolutely no idea!" The Four Eyes leaned in smugly and whispered in Clark's ear, "Matcha mousse cake, the Grand Commander lost his job and finally found a way to make a living. His family is putting so much pressure on him, and his wife hasn't been nice to him these past few days. If you don't praise him, what if he gets depressed and tries to commit suicide? We'll just say a few nice words, it's such a simple thing, don't be so stingy! I just want the Commander to be happy!"

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Clark immediately snapped out of his daze, no longer as stubborn as before, and clapped his hands in praise, "Captain Grand! You are truly a meticulous person! We are also practitioners of knightly combat techniques... I..."

"Stop talking nonsense." Guland was in a bad mood, and seeing these two clowns saying things they didn't mean made him furious. "I lost my job because I wanted you two to be more honest with the public. What's with all these rituals? Do you think the refrigerator will magically fix itself by chanting a few spells?"

Because of the missing parts, Guland put down what he was doing and started searching through Westbrook's package.

"Come lend a hand, help me open this big item."

The two brothers helped their mentor remove the foam and layers of plastic sheeting, revealing a complete audio system—it looked brand new, with shiny buttons and levers on the control panel.

"Wow!" Banner immediately perked up. "It must be worth a lot of money, right? How much did you make on this deal?"

Clark, with his keen sense of smell, immediately turned serious, as did Mr. Guland—although he had received the item, the remote valuation over the phone and the fact that the photos and the actual item were completely different!

"This isn't what I wanted." Guland scratched his head, sensing something was amiss. "The goods I negotiated with the seller weren't like this."

Clark immediately began arranging a psychic ritual--

He clasped his hands together, revealing the werewolf tattoo on his right arm, intending to borrow a portion of the power of the Qingjin Wolf Mother. This was not part of knightly combat skills; many Lapis Lazuli Guards Guardian trainees knew how to use this ancient druidic magic to simulate the mother wolf's sense of smell with a spirit, probing for clues in the environment.

This spell is almost lost. The Lapis Lazuli Guards possess a powerful sense of smell and do not need the help of spirits. Only a very few militiamen know how to borrow the power of various sacred beasts.

Ling Si transformed into the head of a small wolfhound, clinging to Clark's arm. Its nose twitched as it sniffed along the sound equipment, and the lacquer finish of the wooden set immediately reflected a layer of pale blue water ripples.

"These..." Guland couldn't understand the true meaning behind them.

Clark: "Boss, this is stolen goods, there's blood on it."

Banner finally snapped out of his daze, "Boss! Contact the seller right now! This thing must belong to the White Shark Association!"

George Joshua is dead, but the White Shark Association's cruise ship still holds many valuable assets, including this sound system—it's from the casino on Cruise Ship No. 3, and it even carries the spirit rings of several security personnel.

"The evidence team and the forensic department sold this thing? Sold it to you? Headquarters?" Banner sensed something was wrong. "This doesn't seem right."

Grand General immediately explained, "How should I know! I'm just a small business owner selling secondhand goods now, I'm not part of the chapter anymore!"

Clark glared angrily, ready to confront Guland.

Mr. Guland has been calling the seller.

--The phone rang closer and closer, and then two soldiers from the assault team walked in, their faces beaming with the joy of a victorious return.

One of the soldiers shouted.

"Mr. Grander Walker, have you received the goods?"

Another soldier shouted for a halt and hung up his cell phone.

"--Don't make the call! Mr. Guland, this is a gift for you!"

Guland was filled with anxiety and unease. These soldiers from the warbands were offering him, the pawnshop owner, stolen goods as gifts? What good could come of this?

Banner took two steps back, moving closer to the inner room, and pulled Clark along, hiding behind the Grand Company headquarters, secretly turning on the recorder to listen carefully.

Mr. Guland asked doubtfully, "This sound system is quite something, isn't it? Are you giving it to me as a gift?"

The soldier on the left nodded, a hint of ambiguity in his smile, "It's not just this one."

The soldier on the right quickly came up to Guland, bowed, and offered him a cigarette. "There will be plenty of opportunities in the future."

Guland asked in surprise, "This is stolen goods?"

"Hey! What are you saying!" The soldier delivering the cigarettes introduced himself, "The deputy regimental commander instructed me, as his secretary, to get things done— George Joshua has fallen, and we soldiers who have risked our lives for the regiment need to eat our fill, right? Our first priority is to patronize your business."

The secretary patted Mr. Guland on the shoulder and said with a smile.

"I know you're feeling wronged and don't want to go to the Unmanned Zone on the border. Your wife and children are in Lieyang Fort, we all know that, we're all watching!"

The more Guland listened, the more alarmed and frightened he became.

"This sound system is worth at least seven or eight hundred thousand." The secretary muttered softly, leaning close to Guland and squeezing his hand tightly. "Don't you think about yourself, think about your family. You were supposed to rise through the ranks of the anti-drug unit to centurion, and then gain experience in the staff—how could you lose your uniform over something so trivial? We feel so sorry for you!"

"Don't say our brothers are ungrateful. This store was arranged by General Juseberg —you really have no idea what they're after?"

"What do you mean?" Guland wasn't pretending to be crazy; he genuinely believed that Chief of Staff Juseberg had given him a way out.

The secretary immediately whispered, "How much money does George Joshua have? How many gold bars are in his vault? We'll treat them all as secondhand goods, and you'll handle the discounted price. The only thing we can't let the governor and the attorney general see is this—this stuff can't become extra revenue for District 54, otherwise, wouldn't the soldiers have died for nothing?"

Only then did Guland feel an immense terror—

--This is no windfall, no chance of survival, Juseberg is taking his life!

This is helping the warband transport stolen goods from the White Shark Association, turning illegal income into legal assets. This simple and crude resale process will definitely be discovered by the anonymous party!

Perhaps Juseberg had planned it all along: once it came down to cutting his losses, Guland would die, and his whole family, including his children, would die—he had long since become fish on the chopping block, and the butcher and his henchmen were still plotting how to make this fish gratefully accept these "favors."

But now this secretary has spoken too plainly! She's even said it without any attempt to hide anything!

"Don't worry, Mr. Grand, although you're no longer part of the chapter, we'll still take care of you." The secretary said with a smile, "You'll have to cooperate, right? There are other consignment shops besides yours, aren't there?"

Guland quickly retorted, "You mean there's more? Not just this one stereo system?"

"George Joshua likes gold." The secretary glanced around, lowered his voice, and made sure to avoid Banner's recording pen. Those who worked for the warband were already familiar with the militia's tricks. "There are at least 1.4 billion gold bars worth of sapphires still on the No. 1 cruise ship. We can manage the arms in the name of the warband, but we can't do that with real gold and silver."

"In two weeks, sixteen batches of used goods will be delivered to your shop. You have to do this business with us, or else..."

The secretary chuckled and left the Guland General Team's ear, pulling over the training instructor from the assault team.

The instructor's expression changed to one of harshness, and he spoke in a low voice.

"Is it twelve kilometers south of East Industrial Park? It's called Opal Fashion Store, is that where your wife works? The middle school is right next door—you pick your wife and daughter up from school every day."

Guland immediately cursed, "You dare! You bastard! You dare!"

The instructor raised his hands and quickly stepped back.

"--Ha! He's like a raging lion!"

Guland was furious. He stepped forward, and the two assault team members retreated with him.

"You dare!? You dare!!!"

The instructor squinted, seemingly certain he had hit a nerve with Guland: "I certainly wouldn't dare! Secretary! Do you dare?"

The secretary quickly waved her hand, feigning panic and joking, "I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare! How could that be! This is my dearest friend and family!"

Guland's heart was pounding. He was all bark and no bite, a cowardly fighting rooster in battle mode. His muscles bulged, but he was afraid that if he walked too fast, he would offend the two "adults".

The secretary noticed that Guland was hesitant to take large strides, instead pacing back and forth around the store as if defending his territory.

So he added another sentence--

"--Mr. Guland, we wouldn't dare, we don't have the guts. We are brothers, how could we dare threaten you with your family?"

"I'm afraid some remnants of the War Gang are blind! These heartless thugs, these utterly unscrupulous bandits, if they were to harm your family, then... tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk."

The secretary frowned, shook her head, and grinned, revealing her blood-red gums between her lips.

Clark and Banner only heard the first part of the story and didn't know the whole story.

They only knew that the brigade commander was angry and wanted to chase after him out the door.

Two young men followed behind the brigade. They were just militiamen and had no say in front of the assault team.

Clark steeled his heart, knowing that the sarcastic secretary seemed to be threatening Mr. Guland, and the hot-tempered, stubborn boy immediately wanted to pull out his gun and shoot these bastards!

"No! No! No, no, no—" Guland finally swallowed his anger. He thought that anything was possible; perhaps Chief of Staff Juseberg would spare his life, perhaps he could find a chance to raise enough money and escape with his wife and children. "—You can't become criminals!"

But his two successors, Clark and Banner, must not become criminals, and must not openly fight Guangling Zhixi.

Banner, always shrewd, shrewd, and driven by self-interest, finally understood the implications: it seemed there wasn't a single good person in the Mister Fantastic's Battle Group's assault team. They wanted Grand to help them dispose of the stolen goods, so they were just using him and discarding him. They might even kidnap Grand's entire family and hand them over to the anonymous as scapegoats.

"I'll talk to them!" Banner's anger surged.

Guland shouted, "What are you talking about! What are you talking about?! Banner, I ask you! What about your father and mother? What about your sisters?!"

At that moment, a car slowly drove up to the side of the road.

Glory stood beside the two assault team members, with the sun—the blazing sun—that was the embodiment of Maddes the Lord of Cinder behind her.

The War King hooked his arms around the necks of two soldiers and greeted Clark.

"Little cake? Why do you look so red-faced and angry?"

Clark plopped back down into the pile of old junk.

"It's alright now. My anger has subsided, my back and legs don't ache anymore, and I feel energetic all over. Let's get back to work, Chief! It was a misunderstanding! It was all a misunderstanding!"