He decided he would go all out tomorrow night and make her a kick ass dinner. Which brought him neatly to the next problem. There really wasn't much left in the house for a quick grab and go meal.
They'd both been lazy about shopping the last few days and silently competing to see who could make a good dinner with the scraps left in the kitchen. To make a decent meal would require him to do some actual cooking, something he was not in the mood for.
Seeing no other option, he made the decision to go out and pick something up from a twenty-four hour store. Earlier he was thinking about how he needed to man up and be willing to leave the house by himself. However, he wasn't going to leave right away. Instead, he turned around and made his way back to his workshop.
Once inside he started gathering supplies. The first thing he grabbed was his newest upgraded 'utility belt.' It was similar to the one he'd made in the junkyard previously, but upgraded with new materials and more storage space. Once it was wrapped around his waist, he opened a cabinet and smiled as he looked at the weapons contained within.
Within the supernatural world, the most common weapon of mankind, guns, were generally useless against anything above Low-Class. Granted it depended on the caliber of the weapon and the individual being shot, but as a general rule of thumb, Mid-Class and above were immune to handgun fire.
Someone like Azazel could laugh in the face of a shelling from a battleship's cannons. If they could even hit him in the first place. Another general rule of thumb is that if the being is strong enough then it's unlikely that anything non-magical can even scratch them. The most powerful could also require equally powerful magical items to harm, generally.
Artificers were all used to dealing with beings of power and knew little tricks to get around such things. In this case, Junichiro had used that knowledge to craft himself several magical guns with various designs. For tonight... He grabbed a revolver modeled after a Colt Single Action Army, better known as the Peacemaker. Though his version was slightly modernized with a better grip. Thanks to the gun being a forty-five caliber, he was able to design all kinds of various bullets to go with it.
He collected a holster for it that had a clip and stuck it onto his belt at the small of his back where it would be out of sight once he slipped on a light jacket. With the holster in place, he opened the chamber of the revolver and double checked to make sure it was empty. Which, of course it was. He would never put away a loaded weapon, that was just asking for trouble.
He left the cylinder opened to load it with ammo from a drawer he pulled open below the cabinet. Within the drawer lay an array of various different looking bullets, all the same uniform size. Unlike a normal bullet that was likely to have either a lead or copper coated bit of bullet sticking out of the top, all of the bullets within the drawer had tips that looked like colored glass.
Each color represented a different magical element. When fired the bullets that left the barrel of the gun were not solid slugs but rather compressed magical spells for various elements. The red bullets would launch a compressed bolt of fire. The light blue ones launched ice.
The yellow ones, which he collected and began loading into the revolver, fired out bolts of pure light. He chose the light rounds because while they were extra effective against devils and other creatures of darkness, there were actually very few things they wouldn't at least hurt.
Once the revolver was loaded and in its holster, he collected his next weapon, a massive clip point Bowie knife with a twenty-five centimeter long blade.
He slipped the clip on the sheath into the right side of his belt and used a string on the tip of the sheath to tie it in place against his leg. Between the revolver, massive knife, and all the items stored in his belt, he was prepared for war.
Was it overkill for just going to the convenience store down the street? Ab-so-fucking-lutely. Did he care? Not in the least. The last time he'd left the house in the night to get food, he'd lost his arm. Something he'd grown more suspicious of over the last year. It seemed odd that Azazel, or one of the other fallen, hadn't noticed the stray devil lurking about.
He had no proof, but if he ever found any he would find a way to make Azazel pay. Well, pay more than he was already planning to punish Azazel for his loss.
Anyway, he was fully aware that what he was doing was paranoid, possibly stupid, and definitely overkill. He just didn't care and couldn't bring himself to leave the house, alone, for the first time in over a year, without being armed to the teeth. Even though he was one hundred percent certain there were no stray devils within fifty kilometers, he made a detector a long time ago, he was still going to be armed for bear, as the saying went.
Once he felt armed enough, he grabbed a light jacket to help cover his gun, activated an enchantment to make people ignore his belt and the huge knife in plain view, then made his way toward the gate at the end of his driveway. Walking around on his property wasn't an issue, he'd warded the place as much as he could a few days after moving in and had upgraded the wards constantly as he got stronger or thought of something new to add. He felt pretty safe behind them and would get a warning if anyone entered his property from any direction.
When he reached the gate he came to a stop and observed the street through the metal bars. He hadn't been past this point alone since that night. He took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then released it. Before his courage could fail him, he opened the gate and stepped past the threshold. He was as prepared as he could be, come what may.
Power stones 🥹👍👍😁