After Bane refused to travel together, Frant felt only a slight sense of regret. After all, it had merely been a casual suggestion.
"Then I wish you good luck." Frant raised a hand and patted Bane on the shoulder.
Having said that, he shook out his coat and prepared to get up and leave.
But before that dashing gesture, carrying the charm of a mature man, could finish, his body suddenly stiffened.
Bane's powerful hand had already pressed down on his shoulder. "Wait. There's one last thing I need your help with."
"Something with no profit in it..." Frant complained, about to say more.
Before he could finish, Bane said, "Get me a gun."
Frant looked at Bane in confusion. "You came to me for something this trivial? Don't you have several guns already?"
"Not the usual kind. I want something harsher. More brutal!" As he spoke, Bane drew a pistol from his waist and placed it on the table.
In fact, this world's technological level was not low. Sometimes, Bane even felt that certain technologies were more advanced than those of the world he had lived in during his previous life. And this was only the war-torn western region. He had heard that the central regions of The Empire possessed many more dazzling and advanced technologies, though he had never seen them.
With technology and industry at such a level, the emergence of weapons like firearms was only natural.
As a member of one of Sphinx Street's violent gangs, Bane naturally had access to such things. The pistol he had just slapped onto the table was a very common Westward-Style pistol here, somewhat similar to a Beretta.
Looking at the pistol on the table, Frant thought for a moment before asking, "I can get the goods, but can you still afford them?"
Bane grinned. "I'll sell you my house along with everything else. The money doesn't need to pass through my hands. I only want the gun. Does that work?"
At those words, delight appeared on Frant's face. "Looks like you really are running. To be honest, I sold my house two days ago too, so I'm familiar with the process. Your place is better than mine, so it should be enough..."
He stopped there without naming a specific price. Bane had said he only wanted the gun, so what was the point of discussing money?
"Wait here. I happen to have something in stock. I promised to deliver it to another buyer, but since I'm running anyway, who I sell it to doesn't matter, right?" Frant told Bane to wait a moment, then plunged through the door behind the bar.
More than ten minutes later, the door was finally shoved open from the side. Frant emerged from behind it, struggling as he dragged an iron case with both hands.
"Give me a hand," Frant called.
Bane stood, stepped over the bar, and caught the iron case in one hand before easily hauling it onto the table.
Frant wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and said with a smile, "You're still as strong as ever."
"Or maybe you're just too weak?" Bane rolled his eyes at him.
Frant did not argue. He swiftly opened the iron case and said, "An automatic rifle is beyond my means to acquire. Besides, I don't think that's what you're looking for."
As he spoke, Bane's gaze had already fixed completely on the big toy inside the case.
"A Hand Cannon!?" Bane froze for a moment, then asked in surprise.
"That's right. A guy with my build can't use this thing. The recoil alone would be too much for me, but for you, it won't be a problem at all!" Frant confidently patted Bane's solid, muscular arm.
Then he continued his introduction. "As you can see, this is the standard-issue Hand Cannon for Chatar Legion junior officers—the Raging Bull Mark VI!"
The Empire's military had many legions under its command, and the Chatar Legion was one of them. Every member was powerfully built, and more than ninety percent were ability users whose powers enhanced physical attributes. Every officer among them was an ability user.
Thus, the Chatar Legion was also known among civilians as the Muscle Legion. Considering the weapons used by a bunch of hulking brutes like that, their calibers were naturally brutal and their firepower immense.
And the Raging Bull Mark VI Hand Cannon was one of that legion's signature weapons.
Bane took the Hand Cannon from the case, tested its weight, and pointed it at Frant's head. Its massive barrel nearly covered Frant's entire head. Frant was rather skinny to begin with, but even so, it was terrifying enough.
"Don't point that at me. Even without ammunition, it scares me." Frant reached out and pushed the Hand Cannon aside.
Although it was standard-issue equipment, it was still issued to junior officers. Its appearance was quite attractive, colored entirely in indigo blue, with an engraving of a raging bull charging forward along the barrel.
Then Bane looked at the fist-sized bullets in the case and felt immensely satisfied.
Originally, Bane had planned to use the money from selling his house to get himself an electromagnetic pistol or something. Even though housing prices here were very cheap, surely it would have been enough. But the Hand Cannon Frant had brought out made him feel that this suited him far better!
After playing with it for a while, Bane first rose and picked up the gun belt from the case, which held twenty rounds of ammunition. He fastened it around his waist, then hung the Hand Cannon from it. His waist immediately sank under the weight, but that heavy feeling did not hinder him in the slightest. Instead, it gave Bane an inexplicable sense of security.
Even if a rampaging elephant stood before him now, Bane felt he could kill it with a single shot!
"The bullets?" Bane asked.
"That's all I have. But ammunition for a large-caliber Hand Cannon like this is crude stuff. It doesn't need precision work. Later, you can find any factory and have someone make them by hand. It won't affect how they work." Frant waved a hand.
That was true. A Hand Cannon really did not require particularly high precision.
Bane considered it and decided not to make things difficult for Frant. He took out several documents and the deed to his house from inside his coat, handing them over. "This time, we can say goodbye."
Frant accepted them with a smile. "I'll put these away. We'll have a few drinks afterward."
After saying that, he ducked back through the door behind the bar. But when he came out again, Bane was nowhere to be seen.
Standing there in silence for a moment, Frant finally sighed with slight reluctance. "I wonder if we'll ever meet again, Bane."
Meanwhile, after leaving the Fighting Gym and turning into an empty alley, Bane silently thought, Open the door. As his stamina rapidly drained away, the surrounding space-time froze, and a World-Crossing Gate opened before him.
As he watched this unusual ability activate, Bane suddenly noticed that among the multicolored halo on the gate, the blue seemed to have dimmed somewhat.
When he shifted his attention to the other colors, his stamina drained even faster, as though he were about to open another World-Crossing Gate.
Could the different colors represent different worlds? Bane pondered inwardly.
But this was not the time to test it. He did not mess around and quickly opened the gate before him. Peering inside, he saw what appeared to be another empty alley outside. Without further hesitation, he stepped through the gate for the first time.
After passing through the World-Crossing Gate and truly feeling that he had arrived in Pirate World, Bane silently thought, Close the door. The World-Crossing Gate behind him swiftly shut and vanished.
Last time, he had clearly understood what Teach said, so language should not be a problem here. As for writing, there was no need to worry either. This world probably had illiterates everywhere.
"The urgent matter is figuring out where I am first." Bane muttered, then strode openly out of the alley.
He could already hear hawking and vendors calling outside. It was probably some sort of commercial street.
Before you continue