TRPM 312

chapter 312

I won’t belittle the value of guns.

But objectively, guns aren’t a very efficient weapon for Awakened. Some people carry pistols as a last resort, but by the time someone needs to use a pistol, the situation has usually already become as bad as it gets.

“First of all, firing a gun in a dungeon is basically an invitation to draw every monster there with the gunshot.”

Of course, even without a gun, the noise of a fight will attract monsters, but that’s not the only drawback of guns.

“The limits are clear.”

I’ve probably stressed this several times already, but for an Awakened to increase a gun’s power, they must only strengthen the projectile — the small bullet tip — with their ability, and absolutely must not strengthen the back part where the propellant pushes. That’s a hassle, so in urgent situations people often shoot without bothering to reinforce the bullet like that.

…If the gun and bullets are well made, they can still produce enough destructive force to tear monsters apart….

“Above all, they’re expensive….”

Those kinds of guns and bullets are expensive. Not only pistols but rifles and machine guns can be somewhat effective depending on how they’re used, yet bullets made to affect monsters are inherently costly. It’s not just packing in more propellant — the bullet heads receive special magical treatments, so each bullet is expensive. The gun also needs special treatment to withstand the force of those bullets, so the price naturally skyrockets.

“There was even research showing that veteran Awakened who use guns could go bankrupt because of bullet replenishment and firearm maintenance.”

Of course, Woo Ji-min is different. Ji-min can accelerate a fired bullet to increase its penetration, so she doesn’t need special guns or bullets. And her limits depend on her own power, so they’re not clearly defined. Also, with a silencer on the pistol, the gunshot can be somewhat muffled, so the disadvantages I mentioned probably don’t bother Ji-min much. Put another way, everyone except Ji-min would have to accept all those drawbacks to use guns.

“Geon-woo, finished resting? Shall we get back to practice?”

While I was thinking about why Awakened don’t choose guns as their main weapon, Ji-min — who didn’t know anything — came up to me and asked that.

“No. I’ll rest a bit more.”
“Really? Well, you shot a lot, your arm must be a bit numb, right? Shall we stop for today?”

That’s not true at all. I wouldn’t say shooting is easy, but considering my physical capabilities, my arm wouldn’t get numb this quickly.

“…If you did shooting for ten days straight — so, 240 hours without rest — maybe that could cause a problem.”

That’s assuming I wasn’t supporting my actions with internal energy.

“It’s okay. Geon-woo, you’re still young, right? If you keep practicing shooting as you get older, you’ll adapt.”
“…Ah, yes….”

Ji-min said that with genuine concern, and I replied like that.

“Oh, right. After training today, do you want to go have your personal gun made?”
“…A personal gun?”
“Yeah. Han-ji said that these days you can order gear tailored to the individual. The world’s really changed.”

…It’s obvious that equipment made by a proper craftsman — especially one with a related ability — is higher quality than mass-produced gear made by a company. But those craftsmen are extremely few. In my country, the number of production-type Awakened isn’t even two digits, and as far as I know, among them the number who could make guns is…

“Probably only one, right?”

There’s more than one person who can make equipment, but only one person I could think of who might be able to make firearms. And that person isn’t even a professional gunsmith. I only thought of them because they make metal equipment.

“If they can make anything out of metal, they could probably make a gun too.”

Still, that doesn’t mean there’s no problem.

“Do you have money?”
“Of course — I’ll borrow from Han-ji!”
“……”

Items made by production-type Awakened are inevitably expensive. The potions made by the alchemist Kim Eun-yeon are much better quality than factory-made ones, so they’re pricey.

“Even so, potions from an alchemist are consumables, so a normal person could buy at least one if they save up….”

Equipment made by production-type Awakened who aren’t alchemists is much more expensive. A single moderately made item can cost more than an average Awakened’s annual salary. Naturally…

“Absolutely not.”
“Ah, why!”

Director Shin Han-ji would never buy that kind of equipment for us. Ji-min confidently barged into the director’s office dragging me along, but Director Shin flatly refused.

“Ji-min, you’re not the type whose combat power sharply increases if the weapon improves.”

Ji-min can show her skill whenever the gun in her hands fires properly. Even if she had a normal pistol that wasn’t made for Awakened, her combat power wouldn’t drop. Director Shin knew that and refused Ji-min’s request.

“Then at least buy Geon-woo one!”
“Geon-woo isn’t a marksman to begin with. He’s only temporarily learning shooting to develop your ability. It’s not his primary skill.”

That was what Director Shin said. Of course — there’s no reason to order top-tier guns for someone who won’t use them.

“If you offered me a sword I’d refuse too.”

Even if someone offered to give me a sword, I’d refuse. The Harmonized Divine Sword I use now was made by the Awakening system itself; it eats my internal energy and grows. I don’t believe even a production-type Awakened could make a better weapon than this sword.

“Only one weapon and you’re stingy…”
“Only one weapon…?”

Ji-min’s ignorance about the value of equipment made by production-type Awakened gave Director Shin a headache, but she didn’t get angry. Director Shin seemed to understand that Ji-min’s common sense was stuck in the past.

“…Director.”
“Yes, Geon-woo?”
“Were there no production-type Awakened in the past?”
“No, there were. But weapons made by production-type Awakened weren’t as expensive as they are now.”

Hearing that, I finally understood Ji-min’s reaction.

“Huh? They’re expensive now? Because inflation?”
“Many factors, but mainly because there are so few production-type Awakened.”

Were there more production-type Awakened in the past?

“Hm? No, back then the number of production-type Awakened was also small. If I remember correctly… there were at most three in our country.”
“That’s fewer than now?”

Hearing a person who lived in that era talk about stories that don’t even appear in history textbooks was a little thrilling.

“But there were far fewer combat-type Awakened back then, less than one-hundredth of today’s number. Awakened had only recently begun to appear, and most weren’t used to combat, so many of them died.”

Oh, right — I recalled that our country, before the Black Mist incident, was a demilitarized but basically peaceful nation. The history textbooks also said that many of the early Awakened, who didn’t receive professional combat training, died.

“So even if there were fewer production-type Awakened back then, each production-type person had fewer combat-type Awakened to support, so the gear they made wasn’t as expensive.”

I didn’t say that out loud, but Director Shin nodded when she saw my expression.

“Anyway. I have no intention of buying you a gun.”
“Ugh….”

Ji-min seemed to realize from what we said that guns were prohibitively expensive and didn’t push further.

“…Well, if you promise me just one thing, I might reserve one for you.”

Director Shin said that while looking at Ji-min. She had appeared to have no intention of buying a gun earlier — why did she suddenly attach that condition?

“Well… even if the weapon is ridiculously expensive, Director Shin could afford it.”

You could argue about her earlier claim that weapons made by production-type Awakened were expensive, but no matter how expensive they are, Director Shin’s wealth exceeded it. However…

“Really?! I don’t know what it is but I promise!”

Ji-min was simply delighted without knowing Director Shin’s intention.

“Shouldn’t I at least hear what the promise is?”

It looked suspicious at a glance.

“It’s nothing special. Just sign this contract.”
“So I just sign here?”

Director Shin handed over a contract that looked suspicious, and Ji-min signed it. And I knew what that contract was.

“…Uh… that’s definitely one of those contracts that makes the signer the other person’s slave if they break it….”

It was a contract made by some sorcerer, commonly used for crimes. If the writer hid trap clauses or made an unfair contract to make the other party fail to fulfill it…

“You automatically become a slave and can’t even report it to the police.”

Of course, the existence of such contracts is now widely known, so most people aren’t trapped by that crime anymore. But Ji-min…

“She doesn’t know what that contract is.”

I glared at Director Shin. Why do you have a criminal tool? Well, you could’ve obtained it when catching a criminal. But why use it on Ji-min?

“Huh? Why are you looking at me?”
“Sigh… now that she signed it, nothing we can do. Let’s read the terms.”
“Huh? Okay.”

Ji-min showed me the contract’s contents without suspicion. The clause written in the contract was…

“You will serve as an instructor at the Academy for ten years….”

It was simpler than I expected. Actually, Ji-min had planned to work as an instructor at the Academy anyway, so it was of little significance.

“Hoho… Geon-woo? Did you think Ji-min put a condition she couldn’t fulfill?”
“Um… sorry. That contract is normally used that way.”

If I think about it, am I betraying my trust in Director Shin? I wondered, and then…

“Anyway. If that’s decided, shall we go?”

Director Shin said that.

“Huh? Go where?”
“Right now.”

Given what had been said so far, it was obvious where Director Shin wanted to go.

“Ji-min, we need to take a handprint, extract ability data… there’s a lot to do.”
“Ah…!”

In the end, it looked like Ji-min was indeed getting her personal gun made.