Vulkan's workshop contrasted sharply with Dragan's. The air was a potent mix of machine oil, gunpowder, and cherry tobacco.
Vulkan wore a leather duster, hair in a messy top-knot, dark aviators shielding his eyes. He remained attentive to his book, pipe clenched between his teeth.
"What do you two want?" he asked, his voice sounding like gravel spinning in a drum.
Adrien's gaze drifted past the counter, landing on a massive battleaxe mounted to a dark oak plaque on the far wall. The steel gleamed with a faint, unnatural edge. "Nice axe. Is it—"
"Not for sale, kid," Vulkan snapped, finally closing his book with a heavy thump. "I asked what you wanted."
"Guns," Adrien said, matching the man's bluntness. "And plenty of ammunition."
"Hmm."Vulkan stood, and a rhythmic, mechanical protest broke the silence of the shop. Adrien and Vera both looked down as he stepped out from behind the desk. Vulkan's right leg was a masterpiece of brass and piston-driven clockwork; it whirred and hissed with every stride, a complex arrangement of gears clicking into place with a metallic rhythm.
"Well, if it's hardware you're after, you've wandered into the right den," Vulkan grunted.
"Dragan recommended we see you," Vera added, hoping the name might soften the giant.
Vulkan paused, a look of genuine disbelief flashing across his face. "That old goat? Dragan actually spoke well of someone?"
"In a manner of speaking," Vera replied with a small smile.
"Interesting." Vulkan leaned against a rack of rifles. "So, what's your pleasure? You looking for something with a bit of history, or do you want them fresh off the assembly line?"
"New," Adrien said firmly.
"Any specific tastes?"
"I need something that packs a hell of a punch and carries its weight at a distance. A reliable sidearm for me, too, and a shotgun for the lady." Adrien glanced at Vera. "That works for you, right?"
"Perfectly," she nodded.
Vulkan's mechanical leg hissed as he pivoted toward a locked cabinet. "Fair enough. Ladies first, then."
Vulkan reached under the counter, hauling several crates onto the tabletop and opened them, revealing four shotguns: a single-shot, double-barreled, revolving model, and a sleek pump action.
Vera scanned the inventory, but her eyes snagged on the pump action. As she reached for it, a semi-transparent window flickered into her field of vision.
━━━━━━━━━━━[ ITEM IDENTIFIED ]━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Storm-Sweeper
Type: Pump-Action Shotgun
Rarity: Uncommon
Level Requirement: 8
--
Attributes:
Damage:19x8(Pellets)
Range: Very Short - Short
Accuracy: Low (Wide Spread)
Fire Rate: Pump-Action (Slam-Fire Capable)
Recoil: High
--
Handling:
Weight:3.6 kg
Reload Time: Slow (Tube-Fed)
--
Ammunition:
Type:12-Gauge Brass Shells
Capacity:6 Rounds
Compatible Ammo: Buckshot / Solid Slug / Dragon-Breath (Rare)
Effects:
* +5% Critical Hit Chance.
* Hits on beings up to Level 12 have a chance to trigger Stagger.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Vera's fingers closed around the checkered walnut pump. She shouldered the weapon, the balance feeling natural, almost aggressive. A sharp, confident smile lit up her face. "I'll take this one."
"A wise choice," Vulkan grunted, a plume of cherry smoke drifting from his pipe. "That's the Sovereign build. It'll stop a charging Tusk-Boar in its tracks and leave enough of a hole to see through."
Adrien didn't share her immediate excitement; he was looking at the mechanical tolerances. "Vulkan, do me a favour. Strip it down, and check the extractor, the firing pin, and the magazine spring. I want to make sure every part is flawless before we buy it."
Vulkan raised a bushy eyebrow, a hint of respect for the boy's caution gleaming behind his dark lenses.
"Smart lad. I'll give it a full inspection," he said, before his mechanical leg hissed as he leaned back, pointing a calloused finger at a hand-painted wooden sign behind him. "But keep one thing in mind, my prices are fixed, no bargaining."
"Now," Vulkan grunted, shifting his weight with a metallic clink. "Sidearm or the rifle?"
"Rifle, please," Adrien said with a sliver of excitement.
Vulkan cleared a space on the workbench and began laying out long guns. Most were standard-issue bolt actions, reliable but unremarkable. Then, he reached for a heavy, oil-cloth wrap at the back of the shelf. As the cloth fell away, Adrien felt his breath hitch.
The rifle was cold steel and dark walnut, with a thick bolt handle shielded by a sliding shroud. Its ten-round magazine gave it a strong, predatory profile.
When Adrien shouldered it, he found the sights weren't on the barrel, but sat right before his eye, a simple steel ring that seemed to sharpen the world around it.
━━━━━━━━━━━[ ITEM IDENTIFIED ]━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Dreadnought Model-X
Type: Bolt-Action Service Rifle
Rarity: Uncommon
Level Requirement: 8
--
Attributes:
Damage:78
Range: Long
Accuracy: High
Fire Mode: Bolt-Action (Manual)
Recoil: Moderate-High
--
Handling:
Weight:4.1 kg
Reload Time: Moderate (Stripper Clip Fed)
--
Ammunition:
Type:.30-06
Capacity:10 Rounds
Compatible Ammo: Standard / Armour-Piercing / Incendiary (Rare)
--
Effects:
* +5% Critical Hit Chance.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"I like it," Adrien muttered, his thumb tracing the smooth grain of the stock. "Do you have the ammunition to match?"
"Standard ball is ten Velar per ten rounds," Vulkan replied, puffing on his pipe. "If you want the armour-piercing stuff for the thick-hided beasts, that'll run you fifteen per ten."
Adrien bit his lip, doing the mental math. It was a steep jump in overhead. "I see. And the sidearm?"
"Well, I've got the usual revolvers," Vulkan said, leaning back as his mechanical leg exhaled a puff of steam. "But I just got my hands on a piece of experimental tech. Rare as hens' teeth lately. Interested?"
He produced a handgun that looked more like a small machine than a pistol. It was top-heavy and strange, with the magazine forward of the trigger.
━━━━━━━━━━━[ ITEM IDENTIFIED ]━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Screeching Iron Pistol
Type: Semi-Auto Repeater
Rarity: Uncommon
Level Requirement:8
--
Attributes:
Damage:52
Range: Medium
Accuracy: Moderate
Fire Rate: Rapid Semi-Auto
Recoil: High (Vertical)
--
Handling:
Weight:1.1 kg
Reload Time: Fast (Top-Loaded Stripper Clip)
--
Ammunition:
Type:7.63mm
Capacity:10 Rounds
Compatible Ammo: Standard / High-Velocity / Tracer
--
Effects:
+5% Bleed Chance.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Adrien recognised the silhouette immediately; it was the spitting image of a C96, a legendary rapid-fire repeater.
"I've only got standard ammo for it, five Velar for a clip of ten," Vulkan noted, his tone darkening.
"If you'd come through a few weeks back, I might have had something truly special to show you, but with the bandit raids and the border tensions, this is the best steel you'll find for miles."
Adrien nodded slowly, looking at the three weapons laid out before them, the tools that would define their survival for the next several levels.
"And the price for the set?"
"The bolt is two-sixty," Vulkan said, counting it off on his grease-stained fingers. "The shotgun is two-thirty-five, and the repeater is one-thirty-five."
Adrien let out a slow breath as he looked at the arsenal. Although the price was steep, a small fortune in Velar, but in a world where a jammed bolt meant a one-way trip to the respawn screen, skimping on good gear is a crime.
"Before we settle the tab," Adrien said, his eyes roaming over the sleek barrel of the Dreadnought.
"I need you to go over them, or else I'm not just buying the guns."
Vulkan grunted, a plume of cherry smoke escaping his lips. "You've got a cautious streak, kid. I like that. Most people just grab the shiniest toy and run into the woods."
Adrien stepped closer, leaning over the workbench. "I want them stripped. Check the extractor claws for any burrs and make sure the magazine springs have enough tension to feed under pressure. On the Dreadnought, I want to see the bolt face and make sure that controlled feed is as smooth as silk. If a beast is charging us, I can't afford a double-feed."
Vulkan set his pipe down on an ash-stained tray. His clockwork leg hissed as he adjusted his stance, pulling a set of precision callipers and a fine-bristled cleaning brush from a leather roll.
"You heard the lad," Vulkan muttered, though he was talking to the guns now. "Let's see if you're as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside."
With practised, rhythmic motions, the gunsmith began to disassemble the Dreadnought. The metallic snick-click of the components hitting the wooden table was the only sound in the shop, save for the rhythmic whirring of Vulkan's prosthetic leg as he worked. He inspected each part under a magnifying lens, the light reflecting off his dark aviators."She is honest," Vulkan announced after a few minutes, sliding the bolt back into the rifle with a satisfying, heavy clunk.
"Tolerances are tight, and she'll treat you right, so long as you keep her oiled."
He moved on to the Screeching Iron pistol, his hands moving with the steady confidence of a man who had built thousands of these machines. After a final function check, cycling the actions of all three weapons with a series of aggressive, mechanical cracks, he pushed them across the table toward Adrien.
"They're flawless," Vulkan said, his voice dropping an octave. "Clean enough to eat off and mean enough to kill any beast. Now, let's talk about payment."
"Not so fast," Vera interjected, her voice cutting in. "We have a few more things to add to the tab."
Vulkan leaned back, his clockwork leg exhaling a plume of steam, "Go on."
Vera reached out and picked up the Screeching Iron machine pistol, turning the heavy, mechanical frame over in her hand. "Do you have another one of these?"
Adrien noticed it first, the slightest, most subtle twitch in Vulkan's jaw. A triumphant grin spread across Vera's face. "You've got a second one tucked away, don't you? Not so rare after all, is it?"
Vulkan grunted, a puff of tobacco smoke escaping his lips. "Sharp eyes on this one. I was saving the pair for a different sort of customer, but Velar is Velar." He reached back into the crate and produced a twin to the first repeater. Without being asked, he performed a lightning-fast inspection, the parts clicking back together with a lethal finality.
"This one will kill just as well," he muttered, sliding it across the wood.
"Excellent," Adrien said, his mind already tallying the weight of their new gear. "Now we just need the vitals: ammunition, stripper clips, and a professional-grade cleaning kit." His gaze drifted upward, snagging on a piece of glass and brass sitting on a velvet-lined shelf. "Is that an offset scope for sale? Let me see it."
"Eagle eyes, lad," Vulkan said, a hint of genuine respect in his gravelly voice. "Go on then, have a look."
As Adrien took the cold, heavy optic in his hand, the familiar flicker of the system interface appeared.
━━━━━━━━━━━[ ITEM IDENTIFIED ]━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Hawkeye MK II
Type: Offset Telescopic Sight
Rarity: Uncommon
Level Requirement:8
--
Attributes:
Magnification:5x (Fixed)
Field of View: Narrow
Clarity: Moderate
--
Features:
* Cant-Mount allows unobstructed top loading via Stripper Clips.
* Permits instant switching between Scope (Long Range) and Iron Sights (Close Range).
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Adrien felt the weight of it; the glass was clear, the crosshairs etched with razor precision. This was the piece that would turn his rifle from a weapon into a surgical tool.
"I'll take this too," Adrien said, his voice steady despite the massive bill growing between them.
"Along with fifty rounds of armour-piercing .30-06 and two-hundred-fifty of the standard ball. For the pistol, three hundred rounds of the 7.63mm. We'll need eight stripper clips for the rifle and four for the pistols. Finally, for the lady's shotgun: fifty solid slugs and two-hundred-fifty standard buckshot shells."
"Also, we would like to sell our current gear and any ammunition we no longer require.
A few minutes later, the duo left the shop with their pockets significantly lighter.
"Vera, let's hunt some bandits, our purse is starving."