Summer, Year Eight of Konoha.
Inside the East District branch building of the Konoha Military Police Force, an electric fan hummed, blowing nothing but hot air. Yinglang finished the last request on his desk concerning a "special management fee for merchants illegally occupying roads at night"-his subordinates were getting increasingly skilled at inventing these charges-and rubbed his aching eyes.
He dismissed everyone around him and sank his awareness into his mind. The lottery wheel appeared right on schedule, light and shadow swirling across it.
"Draw."
[Ding! Congratulations, host. You have obtained "Complete manufacturing blueprints for a muzzle-loading smoothbore flintlock musket and a basic gunpowder formula (from eighteenth-century Europe)."]
A vast stream of information flooded his mind, carrying the scent of sulfur, saltpeter, and steel. The blueprints were exceedingly detailed, laying out every step clearly, from forging the barrel and cutting rifling-though this particular design was smoothbore-to the flintlock mechanism and the wooden stock. The gunpowder formula was simple enough: first saltpeter, second sulfur, third charcoal. The proportions, purification methods, and granulation process were clearly specified too.
Muskets.
Yinglang's heart gave a jolt. It was hardly high technology; in fact, it was rather outdated. Its range topped out at perhaps four or five hundred meters, loading was cumbersome, and anyone who could fire one shot a minute counted as a skilled hand. In rainy weather, the flintlock was also prone to misfires. Compared with the ninjas' earth-shattering ninjutsu and ghostlike Taijutsu, this thing seemed a little... inadequate.
But a second later, he rejected that thought.
No. For Great Britain, this thing would change everything!
Ninjutsu required chakra, talent, and years upon years of arduous training. Taijutsu also required conditioning the body; it could not be mastered overnight. But this musket? A sturdy native, after a few months of training