"AY JOHNNY! HOW ARE YOU DOING, MAN?" He instantly waved back expressively. Stanley looked back at him, wondering how he could switch that fast. Nobody can change that quickly, can he?
Stanley estimated him to be around his early twenties. He had a distinctly American Earthling look. He wasn't particularly scary. More like the sort of neighbour who would stare at you from across the road before inviting you to a barbeque.
"Heyyyy!"
The stranger pointed between the pair of them as he ducked beneath the roller door. He had a suitcase in one hand, which he plopped down next to the roller doors.
"Daryl! IS THAT THE DOOR GUY??"
"You know it", Daryl laughed. "Stanley Kleitos. DOOR GUY!" Daryl raised his arms and hopped off his chair, moving towards the stairs.
The man stepped fully inside as the heavy roller door continued going upwards.
His upper lip curved, revealing his pearly white teeth. He looked disgusted for a second.
Then, he stomped on a bug on the floor. He looked back and saw the two, Daryl and Stanley, going down. One faster than the other.
"So, Stanley, huh?"
He stuck out a hand as Stanley walked up closer to the roller doors, slower than Daryl.
Johnny: "Johnny Wilkinson. Nice to meet y'all."
{I-is that an American accent?}
Stanley took the offered hand. Johnny's grip was firm. Up close, Stanley realised Johnny was taller than he'd first thought. He had a lean, muscular build; a young, rugged face that scrunched whenever he wasn't speaking; and a straw cowboy hat resting comfortably on top of his head.
"SOLARR approved fast action, doctor. You shouldn't want to meet me."
Stanley: "Oh?" He looked confused.
Johnny: "If you see me, it's probably for medical reasons. Recovery stuff."
{How the fuck is he a doctor? What? Who could Magnus possibly be recruiting for these contracts?}
The longer Stanley looked, the more impossible it became to believe this man was once fully approved by the government to be a national doctor. When he spoke, he noticed more of his long-sleeved red and white western-style shirt with snap buttons and yokes that made him look like he was ready for a rodeo. His durable denim jeans looked like they came straight out of a movie, and his pair of thick, tall, high-heeled cowboy boots looked quite durable.
A man ready to cultivate fields based on appearance, not use surgical tools in a calm hospital environment.
He jabbed a thumb towards Daryl.
"I work with this motherfucker."
Daryl scoffed.
Johnny slapped his back. "HA!"
"That happened once, you stinking bastard."
Stanley glanced back at Daryl.
Johnny burst out laughing.
Daryl was matching his excited, full-of-energy tone with questionable remarks.
Stanley raised an eyebrow.
"Twice."
"Once and a half."
Stanley chuckled despite not understanding the context. He knew humorous moments as most boys do.
Johnny noticed immediately.
"Oh, YOU WANT TO HEAR THE CO–."
Daryl immediately and instinctively gut-punched him as rough friends do. It made Johnny bend 90° forward, his head nearly touching Stanley, who was near him.
Stanley: "Yo…" He laughed because the whole scuffle was merely friends bickering, and Stanley knew that when he took a step back and put his fist over his mouth, posing like he saw a rough accident.
{YOUCHHHH! Johnny got the shit rocked out of him! Dang Daryl, that grease bucket really had it out for him! And did Johnny really tell the truth? The fuck did Daryl do to gain the nickname "Motherfucker? "}
"I get it; you're still a bitch. cough cough." WHAM! Johnny delivered a mean uppercut on Daryl's jaw, sending him flying a metre, landing on his back. "Daryl. Tsk Tsk Tsk. Are you going to gut-punch your own disciple after he came back from an expedition with a loved one? Hah?"
He walked up to Daryl, talking cockily, but in reality, it was more like a comfortable friendship. He spread both of his arms, his blue denim jacket spread open, allowing Daryl to see the fluffy white fur on the inside, while Stanley, looking to his right, saw the back emblem of Johnny's jacket. A bald eagle with lit dynamite in its mouth, soaring through the sky.
"Crazy introduction, man," Stanley commented loud enough for Daryl and Johnny to hear.
"See?"
Johnny pointed triumphantly at Stanley, then back to Daryl, who was still smiling back while getting up on his knees in front of Johnny's shadow.
"Your 'lil mate hasn't seen that wild side, hah?"
Daryl rolled his eyes after getting up on two feet, and then he walked past Daryl with a smug smile after wiping his face with his T-shirt.
"You want a drink before we start making shit, Stanley?"
Johnny looked back at Stanley, who nodded slightly, intimidated.
Stanley: "What about you?" He looked at Johnny, who replied fast.
"Yeah, I got time before the election shit. Lemme bring Lori here." He started walking past Daryl, then past Stanley, towards the roller doors.
Daryl: "Man, you really just came in here to assert your dominance over everything on this planet and leave to go spend more time with your girlfriend, whom you, Tallurre and she were together with for a bit." He crossed his arms, stood proud and moved his head sideways while making a mock "Tsk Tsk Tsk" sound as Johnny did to himself.
Johnny then said, "Yeah yeah. Tallurre had to leave randomly anyway and come back yesterday. Wait."
He turned around and looked at Stanley while gaining a realisation.
Johnny: "You were why Tallurre left when we arrived in that dump solar system? He received a phone call and left as soon as possible to collect you in the Aethon. Hmm."
He first seemed happy, then perplexed. He kept remembering details, and it looked like it was all adding up on Johnny's face.
Daryl: "Yeah, shut the fuck up, Chicken Dick." He cocked a wide grin.
Stanley watched the two of them exchange insults so casually that it almost felt rehearsed and not a single bit improvised.
Johnny brought up the worn black suitcase as casually as someone picking up their wallet. It swung from his hand like he'd carried it for years, while his other one stayed tucked in his pockets like a true cowboy.
The stupid personal insults kept going the further Johnny walked away, so they had to shout louder and louder at each other.
There was no awkwardness between them.
No real hate between each other.
Just plenty of familiarity that turned insults into greetings.
Broken Halo seemed more and more to work like a functioning family than a people-for-hire group.
"Heh. Johnny. He's my disciple, ya know, man?"
Daryl looked from the entrance of the roller door, standing outside of the shed by a little bit, with Stanley standing exactly where he was with his hands in his pockets. Daryl turned to look back at Stanley, who was, as usual, looking introverted.
"Oh? I mean, that explains why you and he work well."
Daryl and Stanley looked at each other awkwardly from a distance, waiting for the other person to speak.
Daryl scratches his neck.
Stanley looks around the workshop, avoiding Daryl's eyes.
Daryl notices this and purposely targets it.
"What is it?" He says.
"Nothing," Stanley replies fast and unsubtly.
"You've been looking at everything since you got here."
"I've never been inside a place like this."
Daryl shrugs.
"Meh. You'll get used to it."
A pause. Stanley took a few extra seconds to think.
"Johnny's alright. Kinda a jerk though," Stanley said.
"Jerk, you say?" Daryl eyed down Stanley.
"Yeah? I mean, can you blame me? People who are too comfortable with personal space and do shit like punching a friend don't sound good, does it?"
Daryl slowly reverts to his apathetic state.
His mouth was slightly open, and his eye bags became increasingly defined when he changed his eyes to look restless. He stopped posing marvellously and put his arms together.
"Well, um. You're right. I don't like it. But like, I expected that this is how I should be acting with him. I know Johnny. He's someone who gets too comfortable with people he trusts, like—"
Daryl put his thumb and index finger onto the gap between his eyebrows and scrunched his face in thought.
Stanley: "He feels like he can do whatever, and he won't be judged by you. Huh."
His eyes got increasingly bigger as Stanley realised Johnny didn't have an ego thing but more so a free mind.
Daryl looked back up at Stanley. "Uh, yeah, actually. Johnny's definitely like that. Sorry man, I just got my ADHD kicking in."
He made a "Tsk" noise and stomped his right foot hard in frustration.
"No, I don't. Sorry, I don't have ADHD; I'd just think I do, and I don't tell people that a lot, and I—"
Stanley: "Daryl, man, I don't know if you have ADHD, but don't worry about it right now because I don't think it matters right now.
Stanley walked closer to Daryl, who looked at him harder than before.
He then patted Daryl on the back.
Daryl slightly flinched when he patted him. Stanley noticed this and looked at him with empathy.
Daryl: "Uh. Thanks."
Stanley: "Yeah, all good. As you were saying earlier?"
"Mhm. Yeah, H—"
Then, the footsteps of two different people: stomp, clop, stomp, clop.
Out in the distance from where Stanley and Daryl were, Johnny came back, and his left arm was around another woman.
Suddenly, Daryl broke the quietness. He put his two hands around his mouth and shouted like it was a megaphone. He switched back again.
"YO! LORI! "HOW ARE YOU DOING?"
A woman with dark brown bangs and a dusty white doctor's coat shouted back.
"Daryl Carter?"
She looked back, slightly baffled and intrigued by how Daryl was one hundred metres from her and Johnny.
Johnny: "Daryl! Dontcha remember the last time you met Lori Forria?" He shouted back, hugged Lori, and walked with comfort and big stomps on the red, rocky, dusty surface.
Stanley looked at Daryl, who looked back in discomfort, shock, and worry.
Daryl put his right hand over his mouth while he dropped his left hand hard to the ground, letting it swing.
Daryl: "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Oh. OH MY GOD! L—"
Johnny noticed and covered his mouth so he wouldn't laugh at Daryl's realisation.
Lori whispered, "Oh, that is Daryl." She bit her top lip out of discomfort.
The woman named Lori then raised her right hand to calm him down from far away.
Lori: "Daryl, relax. My scars healed because I'm a really efficient surgeon. I can manage if you won't let up your focus again."
Daryl then walked up to the two, coming forward.
He said to Stanley: "Ay man, Let's meet Lori, Tallurre's disciple."
He waved his hand, ushering him to move with him, which Stanley quickly reacted to, trying not to look awkward again.
They both met quickly in the middle of their walking paths, with Johnny reacting first.
Johnny: "Stanley, right? Stanley, meet Lori Forria." He looked at him, then at her with a smile as he took his hand off and crossed his arms, standing like a farmer.
Lori made a faint smile, though it didn't seem like she genuinely felt excitement talking to Stanley, who was waiting for her to introduce herself, following Johnny's intro.
Johnny gave her a small tap on the back.
Lori: "Hey Stanley, nice to meet you. I'm sure you met Tallurre?"
Stanley: "Nice to meet you too. Yeah, I'm about that. Hmm."
She tilted her head a little bit; everyone looked at her.
"Well, I'm his disciple, learning the principles of negotiations, as he was an idol for me." She smiled at the small thought of that.
"I also work right now in the doctor field, like Johnny over here."
She poked him with her thumb, doing a thumbs-up on purpose, bumping his nose.
"Oi."
Daryl giggled. Stanley Smiled. Lori grinned slightly, and Johnny happily took his nose bump.
Johnny: "Look at her. Poking her beloved boyfriend. How dare she?" He announced loudly.
Lori looked back with a smile at Johnny, while Daryl smiled, and Stanley started understanding a bit more about how happy they are.
Lori: "HEY YOU! I'M STILL TALKING HERE!" She looked back at Johnny with a silly attitude. She swayed playfully from side to side, hands planted on her hips as she leaned towards Johnny.
Daryl looked back gleefully, but Stanley grinned slightly.
"Well, y'all want to pop in?" Said Daryl as he pointed back at the workplace with his body turning slightly towards the door.
"Yeah, of course."
"Course, Daryl."
They both said it at the same time, and Johnny acted like it was his first time back there, like Lori.
Stanley moved out of the way and stepped aside to walk with them. He stood on Lori's side, who seemed comfortable enough not to react.
She walked with the confidence of someone who expected people to move aside before she ever had to think about it.
She wore a white lab coat with her initials on her breast pocket, branded in navy blue. The entire jacket seemed to be dusty, covered in the red, dusty earth that they were all stepping in.
Daryl was up ahead; he didn't bother to look back, as from Stanley's perspective, he was humming a familiar tune out loud with his hands behind his head and stepping all over the place, never in a straight line. Johnny's eyes lowered; the longer he looked, the happier Daryl's personality became. The same can't be said for Johnny, who eyeballed him down with the force of an empty look, as something had happened previously between the two.
"Hey, Stanley."
Stanley turned his head fast towards Johnny, who kept looking at Daryl. Lori looked at Johnny as well.
"Yeah, Johnny?" He tilted his head slightly forward when he looked at Johnny's face. The three started walking slower, as if they didn't want Daryl to hear it. Stanley merely followed Johnny's pace.
"How long have you been 'ere for?"
He talked casually, with a sense of importance and emphasis in that last part.
"Uh, since yesterday. I don't even have a change of clothes."
"Well then, Daryl's shown you his blank slate, right? If not, it kinda looks like your face, buddy."
He pointed simply and mildly, and Stanley, who saw it, took more focus on the words he heard, which were more important than some body language of a cowboy doctor.
Stanley: "…Yeah. He has. Why a—" Before Stanley got interrupted, He spoke slowly, making each word seem longer and more meaningful.
Johnny then turned to look at Stanley, who seemed annoyed and disgruntled.
"I'm really tryna break through into Daryl, man. He kinda keeps that side away from me. Ion know why, man." He scratched his left temple. "Ion know."
Lori continued to look at both of them, slowly back and forth. Stanley looked at the ground while he thought, and Johnny looked back at him, giving off the feeling of peer pressure.
"…" Some noises came faintly out of Stanley's mouth.
Stanley: "Johnny. You care if I tell you the truth here? I know we just met."
Johnny: "Yeah. Hit me."
Lori turned her head to look down at Stanley as he was about to talk, which caused him to pause his words for half a second.
"Look, man. Daryl, Interesting guy. He probably got the confidence of his from experience and teaching himself."
Johnny moved his head down by a few centimetres.
"I-I honestly don't know much about him, but I still can read his body language like he was an actor on a TV show filming a performance."
Stanley then paused, looked and bit his bottom lip. Five seconds later, he brought his head up again and spoke while looking at the dawn of the sun.
"Shit. Um." He paused and crossed his arms, walking slower than the other two to get away from the second-hand embarrassment of saying his inner thoughts aloud.
"Sorry, man, like. Daryl – What a life he's had. It's kind of taking a lot on my ego to say that, but Daryl probably experienced a lot of negativity showing a quieter side, and he decided that some "other" people don't really need to see that side."
Johnny nodded.
"Well, people develop through adaptation, and Daryl probably adapted his emotions to manifest them with whoever he wants, not who he's comfortable with. If you think you're the problem, Yeesh, I—you still have to try and work on that because Daryl's just a really emotionally smart guy."
Lori blinked repeatedly, not in shock but registering it as important info to hold onto.
Johnny did the same while cracking his knuckles, thinking hard, and nodding when required.
Lori: "Stanley, in a day, Daryl showed you that side already? Huh." She didn't seem shocked or baffled; it was more like she registered more thoughts again by saying it aloud.
Johnny took a few seconds to think of an answer after Lori spoke, and Stanley was looking at the ground near his feet carefully.
Johnny: "Huh. I'll be damned." He spoke the last part quietly, like an expression.
"You see, Stanley, during some of the trips I used to go on with that man, right, I swore I could hear crying in the room next door to me. People called me weird for that, and now I finally realised sum."
Stanley: "Yeah?"
"That Daryl really thinks he has to be friends with me only like this. I'm going to work on this later, thanks, I guess, bro." Johnny put his fist in front of Lori, who slowed down, going towards Stanley, who returned a fist bump as well.
"Yeah, man. Talk later."
When Stanley said that, they finally entered the shed through the roller doors and smelled crisp metal and dusty floors and timber fibres.
Daryl was busy moving stuff around the many tables, grabbing them and putting them inside a box on the floor near his feet.
Daryl: "Finally, y'all came! I was waiting for so long I had to tidy up, man." He said this while taking that plastic box and moving it to the room under the stairs.
"Stan? How bout you wanna build that weapon of yours while Johnny and Lori are here?"
"Uh, yeah sure why not," Stanley said.
Daryl clapped loudly. "THEN GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"
He started pushing off little bits and pieces off that table onto the floor, running and taking a plastic box labelled "Heavy/sniper model" off a shelf near the weapons on display, and dumping bolts, nuts and spare pieces of old weapons across the table like it was casual to him.
Johnny dropped the suitcase and cracked his knuckles. "Aight. This Stanley's personal weapon?"
Stanley: "Yeah man, I'm thinking of a precise shooting weapon, not multiple bullets like a rifle but more like a sniper in a pocket.' He said while he turned to Johnny, who looked at him for no more than two seconds and walked off to get another box.
"Cool. Cool cool cool idea." Daryl said, already grabbing a welding torch from another table with a welding station on it.
Lori peeled off her coat and rolled her sleeves. "Now, Somebody better know where the scrap metal is."
Lori underneath wore a long-sleeved polyester looking mossy coloured shirt, which matched her pants in a similar colour tone, being black and formal-looking whilst being dusty.
"Babe, take a look at this." Johnny tossed a unique type of metal to her that looked like mercury with shiny colours, but felt as dense as tungsten. She caught it without looking at Stanley, who looked back, wondering when she'd stop looking.
She finally looked at the flat piece of metal, and after a few seconds of realisation she spoke: "Oh my god. DARYL!"
He turned around while he was looking in a tub of weapon assortments, while Johnny was there helping. Stanley soon arrived also to search, since this was his gun after all.
He looked annoyed. "What fat ass?"
"Daryl, Prismori metal of this quality can't be bought…"
He took a second to think and responded with: "Yeah. Luckily, Ren helped me get large quantities legally and make new business partners at the same time."
She looked flabbergasted, mainly because Daryl casually had something that was heavily sought after in this day and age. On par with artificial antimatter.
Daryl: "Well, get over here, and help us pick a frame, mate." He turned back to pick through weapons based on Stanley's approval and his knowledge and performance of the scrappy weapon.
The three at the big table dumped all the guns down onto it, then started grabbing individual ones and sought Stanley's approval.
"Hummingbird 72, a really fucking accurate shotgun that distributes its pellets pretty accurately across a radius easily visible." Daryl held the frame of the weapon; it was missing some parts like the reloading handle, but it was still visible.
"Nah. Mm Mm." He shook his head, and Daryl looked disapproving and tossed it without looking into the box.
Johnny passed him a pistol with a long barrel that looked like a silenced one, but almost like a pocket sniper. This caught Stanley's attention.
"Okay, Stanley man, this seems to fit your interests." Stanley nodded as Daryl admired the pistol with one hand, looking at it from multiple angles.
"The Olivera butcher, this one was popular when that guy Gerald Olivera got assassinated by something similar to this in a crowd. hmm. It shoots either silently but less hard…" He turned the custom barrel right ninety degrees.
"Or shoots loud with diamond penetration bullets normally loaded from the original."
Stanley faintly smiled while looking at the gun, then frowned as his eyes went wide with realisation.
{Oh, this is the one. Yeah. I l- wait. This is a gun. A murdering weapon. Something that takes a life. shit. um. I'm gonna have one of these? shit wow. fuck. um. Maybe it's best to think of it as self-defence. I've never held a gun, and I'm worried I'm gonna boil over. Oh wait. Tallurre's my lawyer. Never mind.}
Stanley: "Yep. This is it. I see the potential." Johnny patted him on the back while Lori looked at the gun with annoyance.
Daryl: "PERFECT! Now, we'd want customisation; this is gonna be made out of 90% Prismor metal." He spoke while his hands moved all over the place, pointing at different things and acting happy.
"-We even have a 3D modeller." He grinned. He clearly was proud of that.
Stanley: "Right." He waited for someone to speak up, ready to start the thing, which Daryl did.
Johnny: "I'm guessing what the custom one would need. Me and Lori will get parts, while you and Stanley render what would be needed on that fucking cool computer back there.' He pointed at the room near the shuttle.
Daryl: "LET'S GO!"
Everyone headed off to get their stuff in duos. Stanley still holding the Olivera Butcher counterfeit."
FLICK.
There was no door for the room, and Daryl turned on the lights, for a room with all sorts of smart, complex-looking tech that helps him build fast and with quality. The standout thing was his computer, a giant rectangle of glass with many PC components inside, with a dusty black keyboard and a big monitor.
Daryl sped-walked to the computer, turned it on, waited only three seconds for him to sign in fast, and for Stanley to for a second see a wallpaper of himself dunking on LeBron James in basketball while the crowd goes wild.
{Holy Shit. Daryl. Bfffff.} He nearly laughed at the silly sight.
Daryl quickly started up a program and yanked the gun from his hands, put it inside a box, closed it and pressed a whole bunch of buttons Stanley couldn't understand, even while being right behind him, who was sitting down, leaning forward.
A buzzing sound was faintly heard from the machine, as it seemed to be running the command Daryl put while he crossed his arms, leaned back smugly and felt like he was doing the whole Broken Halo a big favour.
The program seemed to be done, as a blueprint after Daryl filled out instructions on how to render this dream of a weapon down.
He took out the gun and plopped it suddenly in Stanley's hands.
"Come on." He patted him again, then they both walked out after he turned the lights off.
He and Stanley walked back to the table to see multiple boxes, big and small and parts out that Johnny got out with intuition laid out.
The two came back carrying two boxes each, struggling, then plopping them on the floor close to the bench.
Daryl posed brilliantly again, finger pistols out, "Johnny, you're a retard."
"Sure I am. I got practically most of the parts out here, right?
"Pfff." Daryl grabbed the Prismor metal and went over to one of the walls where a smelter lay.
Stanley, Johnny and Lori stood around, waiting. The two looked confident; Stanley looked at them slightly confused.
Some curtains got pulled from Daryl, blocking the view on the outside.
Stanley: "So, is he gonna do it fast, or-" A huge sizzle echoed throughout the shed, the sound bouncing off the metal loudly and taking over most noises.
"HOLY WHAT?" Stanley looked even more confused as he flinched the second he heard it.
A minute later, Daryl ran out wearing thick fireproof gloves, carrying a steaming bucket that looked absolutely cold.
Daryl: "YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He shouted out of excitement. How did he just do whatever he did that fast?
He plopped down the bucket on the table, and everyone walked up to it to see what was inside. A metal cube that seemed to be easily put together in two, covered in some sort of airy liquid.
Lori: "Liquid nitrogen cooler right next to smelter. You fucking retard." She looked concerned this time.
Daryl turned to her: "Well, it saved time, man."
Stanley: "Whoa whoa whoa. Where'd you get that mould from?"
"Oh, that program you saw me using, right? After I scanned the thing, I sent off the details to another machine near that." He pointed back at the small smelting area. "It quickly printed off a frame that I'd pour liquid metal into, and so I could just close it and dip it in liquid nitrogen, absorbing the cold and putting in the molten metal. Boring stuff, man."
{That wasn't boring. That was cool, you dumb fuck. Talented bastard}
"Yeah yeah," Stanley said.
"Anyways—"
He grabbed the cube, cracked it open to see a mould of shiny mercury with vibrant, faint colours made perfectly.
Stanley made an audible 'Whoa, ' which the three looked at him with positivity.
"Stanley, we've got this." The three, consisting of Daryl, Johnny and Lori, moved quickly around and started building it based on assumption and Daryl's orders.
Sparks. Metal screeching. Daryl humming through his teeth while he worked, Johnny bracing the frame with one boot, Lori's hands moving fast and sure over the wiring like she'd built a hundred of these.
"Grip's too wide," Lori said.
"Grip's fine." He said firmly
"Grip's too wide, Daryl."
"— Grip's too wide," Daryl spoke in mock voice, adjusting it anyway.
Johnny snorted and covered his mouth.
Stanley stood back for half a second, just watching. Three strangers he'd known for an hour, moving around each other as they'd rehearsed it. Nobody asked who was in charge. Nobody needed to.
"Trigger mechanism," Johnny said, already handing it over before anyone asked.
"Power cell."
"Power cell." Lori slid it across the table without looking up.
More sparks. A hiss. Daryl swore, shook his hand out, kept going.
"Y'know," Johnny said, tightening a tiny bolt, "for a doctor I'm real good at this, bitch."
"You're not a doctor," Daryl said, looking at him with a smile.
"I'm SOLARR approved."
"That's not the same thing."
"Feels the same."
Lori didn't look up. "It is not the same thing."
Stanley laughed despite himself, and Daryl grinned without breaking focus, and the thing on the table kept becoming, piece by piece, something that actually looked like a weapon.
Six minutes. Maybe seven.
Daryl straightened up, wiped his hands on his jeans, and held it out.
"There he is."
Stanley took it. It was heavier than he expected, and warm from the torch, and it was his.
"Damn," Johnny said, hands on his hips, admiring it like he'd built the whole thing himself. "Not bad for twenty minutes of nonsense and one weapon."
"Seven minutes," Lori said.
"Feels like twenty," Johnny interjected.
She looked at him with a big fat frown that easily looked like silliness.
A pistol with a custom black grip, the rest looking made of shiny multi-coloured alloy, everything except the barrel, magazine and the power cell, used for shooting dense bullets without other components.
Stanley looked at it from multiple angles, a smile forming with every second.
Stanley: "Thanks." A really confident look emerged. He didn't say much, but it meant a lot from a Suran who can't express himself physically too well.
"So when can I shoot it?"