Magic Pistol

We're rich! We're rich!

Subaru hugged a large bag of silver coins tightly to his chest and spun around in excitement. Caught up in his excitement, Antares happily looped through the air with him.

Modern technology is invincible! At this rate, I'll definitely become the richest man in this other world!

The first batch of lighters sold out in a single day. Subaru had earned several hundred silver coins, dozens of times more than a month's wages from chopping firewood.

Subaru decided that once his business grew, he would first buy the land with the densest mana in the other world. Then he would hire the strongest adventurers to clear out all the surrounding Witchbeasts, letting Antares absorb mana of the highest purity.

Then he would buy Rem a big house and equip it with the best Ground Dragon. Rem had never shown much of her own interests, so for now, the only simple way Subaru could think of to repay her was to buy her a house and a vehicle.

And there was Ram, who had saved him too... Well, Ram had killed the crocodile to protect Rem, and he had just happened to be there. Besides, Ram had never sought him out on her own since then. They were complete strangers... He would think about that later.

When sales had first begun that morning, most people had paid with a wait-and-see attitude.

But by afternoon, news of how well the lighters worked had spread through the village like wildfire, and every villager who had bought one early became an unpaid salesperson.

By evening, all those cold metal boxes had turned into warm silver coins.

But the first batch of lighters had been nowhere near enough, and most people had gone home empty-handed. Only after Subaru repeatedly promised to produce a second batch right away did the overly enthusiastic villagers let him out of their encirclement.

"Little brother! We did it!"

Outside the blacksmith's shop, Uncle Baren stood in the twilight, waving at him. Subaru jogged over and, without another word, first shoved a bag of silver coins into his arms.

"Yeah! We've got money! Thanks, Uncle! These are your wages!"

"What about my appearance fee?" Baren held out his other hand with a perfectly serious expression.

"Huh? You want money for that too?" Subaru's smile froze on his face.

"Of course I do. For your sake, little brother, I deceived the old neighbors I've lived alongside for decades." Baren spoke with complete confidence, not a trace of guilt on his broad face.

"Uncle, you're way too stingy. Thanks to me, you got a convenient way to start fires and earned a big paycheck, and you still want money for such a small favor? Oh, forget it." Subaru pulled out a few more silver coins and slapped them into Baren's outstretched palm. "The casings turned out so well because of you, Uncle."

"Hahaha! I knew you'd pass the test!"

Baren tucked the money bag into his belt and laughed as he turned and walked deeper into the smithy, rummaging a wooden box out of a corner.

"Come here, little brother. I've got something for you."

What he took out of the box was a pistol. Its lines were smooth, its body long and slender. Its metal surface gleamed silver, giving off the clean, streamlined air unique to industrial design.

Browning M1900

"Uncle, you finally made it! But I remember paying for this, didn't I?"

"Hmph, this one wasn't originally yours, little brother."

Baren hid the pistol behind his back and pulled another one out of the box. Its muzzle had already burst open like a flower, the metal curling outward.

"This one is yours, little brother. I made those things called 'bullets' using the recipe you gave me, but when I tried firing it, this happened."

Baren set the remains of the burst gun on the table. "Good thing I'm strong, or I'd have been hurt."

"...Could it be because I didn't design any rifling?"

Subaru knew the principles behind gunpowder, but actually making it was another matter. Apparently, countless technical pitfalls lay between a paper model and the real thing.

"Then what's the story with that one, Uncle?" Subaru's gaze fell on the undamaged pistol.

Baren picked up the gun and walked proudly to the smithy's back door. He pushed it open and aimed at an empty lot overgrown with weeds.

"Dona."

"Bang-!"

A yellow energy projectile burst from the muzzle, streaking through the twilight with a dazzling trail before exploding with a roar in the distant lot.

Clods of earth and shattered stones flew in every direction, leaving a scorched crater the size of a washbasin in the ground.

Subaru stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape, the echo of the gunshot still ringing in his ears.

"...A m-magic pistol?!"

"That's right! I spent all night working it out! I used refined iron extracted from high-grade magic ore as the raw material so it could withstand the impact of mana! This thing can't be considered an ordinary weapon anymore-on the market, it'd be a high-grade 'Meteor'!"

"And it doesn't need more bullets. As long as you still have mana in your body, you can fire it endlessly!"

"Meteor? That means a magic tool, right?"

Subaru took the heavy pistol and turned it over in his hands, examining it. Fine metallic patterns were faintly visible on the gun.

"Uncle, aren't you an ordinary blacksmith? You're way too capable."

"Huh? An ordinary blacksmith? You really underestimated me?"

Baren folded his two muscular arms across his chest. "I only returned home in glory because I was tired of all the fighting and killing in the outside world. This'll knock you dead: I was the biggest weapons supplier in the Demi-Human War decades ago! Even the village chief's old flame has to show me the utmost respect. They call me 'Baren the Oni Smith'!"

"...What's the Demi-Human War?"

"Uh-ignorant little brat. Forget it, forget it. Take it. You've got a Lesser Spirit now anyway, so you should be able to handle a Meteor of this level without any trouble."

"Ohhh! I admire your noble character so much, Uncle-well, I'll be off now..."

Hugging the pistol, Subaru eagerly turned to find somewhere to test-fire it, only for a large hand to land suddenly on his shoulder. He froze on the spot, unable to move an inch.

Subaru turned his head stiffly and saw Baren smiling at him.

"Little brother. High-grade magic ore, material costs, and the advanced forging fee-pay up."

"...You still want money in the end?! What was all that about a test just now?!"

In the end, another small pile of silver coins left Subaru's pocket. Baren had already taken more than half the money from his first fortune.

Subaru counted his remaining silver coins, feeling like crying but unable to shed a tear. He felt as if he had spent the whole day working for this Oni uncle.

"Don't say that, little brother. You really are a major customer of mine. And since you're a regular-"

Baren tucked the money bag into his belt, turned, and walked to the very back of the smithy, where he pulled out a shortsword. "I'll throw in another freebie. Completely free, not a penny for it."

The shortsword's blade had no unnecessary decorations, no elaborate patterns, and no gemstones set into it. But its pure metallic texture and the smooth, sharp lines of its edge made it clear at a glance that it was a fine weapon.

Only, held in Baren's hand, as large as a palm-leaf fan, it looked like a dagger no matter how one looked at it.

"Take it. A shortsword this size is just right for a little brat like you to defend himself with."

"What's this weapon called?"

"It doesn't have a name. Little brother, do you expect a freebie to be a famous sword with a name and all?"

"I just wanted the naming rights... You're too harsh, Uncle." Muttering, Subaru reached out and took the shortsword, then abruptly pitched forward.

"Thud!"

The tip of the sword slammed straight into the ground. Subaru's face turned bright red, his slender wrist utterly unable to bear the weight, and his entire arm trembled. He looked up just in time to catch Hagen desperately trying to hold back a smile.

"Uncle, you even play tricks on children! You've got an awful personality!"

"Who's playing tricks on you? You want to use a sword when you don't have the strength?"

Baren put away his smile and spoke with a perfectly serious expression.

"Little brother, you don't seem to have much talent for swordsmanship. This sword is for you to train in close combat. Use mana to strengthen your body properly, then fight alongside this sword."

Subaru managed to lift the shortsword with both hands.

"What kind of iron is this thing made of? How heavy is it, anyway?"

"Not much, just thirty-five kilograms."

"...I'm in the body of a ten-year-old right now! This thing weighs almost as much as I do!"

(Subaru has officially acquired his personal weapon. With Antares, he can already take on ten versions of himself from the beginning of the original story. A cause for celebration, a cause for celebration.)