An eighty-percent-new Mini rifle was caressed like a lover by a brown-black hand. Its various parts were deftly dismantled and reassembled, bullets loaded...
After a dazzling series of operations, it ended up in the hands of a short-haired, thick-lipped South Innis youth who looked quite handsome. He aimed at the target not far away and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet struck the bullseye dead center.
"Nicely done!"
Beside him, a girl with fair, ivory-smooth skin and delicate doll-like features smiled and applauded. "Shahrukh, your marksmanship is getting better and better."
Shahrukh lowered the gun and shook his head. "It's all thanks to you, Miss Connie. Otherwise, we never could have repaired these captured spoils."
Producing a modern rifle required the support of an entire military-industrial sector.
In theory, indigenous tribes with no technological or industrial foundation whatsoever could never mass-produce or repair rifles.
But this was not a purely scientific world.
This "Miss Connie" was a Craftsman of the "Yao" pathway. Repairing a few firearms was naturally as easy as turning her hand over.
Shahrukh stood before Miss Connie and thanked her sincerely, but the two of them looked extremely mismatched.
This was because Miss Connie was only one and a half meters tall—fully two heads shorter than the tall, handsome Shahrukh...
Shahrukh was a core member of the rebel Yeni Faction. This time, he had learned that the Makur Faction had fallen, and that some of them were preparing to head deep into the rainforest to dig for treasure, so he had come to pick up an easy bargain.
"It's what I should do." Connie dressed rather boyishly, but whenever she looked at Shahrukh, her gaze softened.
"But... we only have a few Craftsmen. If South Innis is to rise again, we must bring