Chapter 19: Unexpected
After finishing daily quests, I returned to the temporary dorm from the library, threw on the coat hanging on the doorboard, grabbed the low-quality flintlock, and stepped outside.
With nothing better to do, I went ahead and knocked out the weekly quest too. It only paid out two chips, but a little spare change was better than nothing.
I had two keys—one issued by the academy for myself, and the other for Teresa.
The temporary dorms were split into male and female sections. Everyone staying here were still probationary freshn, not yet official students. Since our status wasn’t fully confird, the academy didn’t assign any dorm supervisors, which spared a lot of hassle. I didn’t have to pretend to be two different people running back and forth.
The flintlock hanging on the doorboard was the only effective and usable weapon I had. I’d spent all my savings to buy it from so random stall. It was an unlicensed knockoff of unknown origin that had clearly changed hands more than a few tis.
Flintlocks were a human invention ant to replace bows and arrows, but the gunpowder in this world was quite different from the one in my old world.
I’d looked into it a bit—it was complicated stuff.
This was a world where magic tangibly existed. Naturally, firearms didn’t have the sa status as they did back in my world. On top of that, most countries didn’t prioritize guns, and the raw materials and formula for gunpowder were unlike what I knew. Making gunpowder was ridiculously complex.
So the developnt of firearms was hindered by all sorts of factors. After a few generations of improvent, it basically plateaued.
In my view, the biggest reason was that firearms were inherently nerfed in this world. Compared to magic and alchemical explosives, guns had far less impact and cost a lot more to make. As a result, nobody had any faith in them. Leaders of various countries naturally wouldn’t allocate funds to such a dead-end weapon. Sure, so human armies still used guns, but they were rare.
You almost never saw vendors selling firearms. Not because it was illegal—people just didn’t think they were worth anything.
Compared to traditional weapons like swords, bows, crossbows, spears, and blades, the flintlock was easy to pick up, but impossible to master.
Sort of like how soone might say, “You’re playing a no-skill, button-mashing hero? La,” to soone using a simple character in a ga.
But I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t from this world. The firearms that everyone here looked down on had an aesthetic that hit all the right spots for .
The tal barrel, the rustic wooden stock—didn’t it just look cool?
Though guns were nerfed here, they were super easy to learn. Fire a few rounds and you’d more or less get the hang of it. No need for intricate techniques.
That simplicity was exactly why I liked it. Learn how to aim and pull the trigger—that’s it. A weapon was ant to kill, not to put on a show. I wasn’t here to perform on stage; a battlefield wasn’t a theater. What was the point of all the flashy moves?
Wearing my coat and slinging the flintlock over my shoulder, I walked out of Coleman Academy’s massive stone gate and headed toward the Coleman Forest.
The Coleman Forest marked the border between Ruglian and the Kaleburn Continent. Kaleburn was ho to the Light Races, while Ruglian—the Old Continent—was now under the rule of the Demon Race.
Whether in human or elf culture, demons were considered extrely dangerous—mortal enemies, in fact.
The kinds of demons matched pretty closely to what I’d imagined: goblins, beastn, werewolves, trolls... the classics.
I’d never seen a demon before. Only encountered so magical beasts lacking higher intelligence, so I couldn’t really assess where demons stood in the combat hierarchy.
But whatever tier they were, I was sure they could mop the floor with a weakling like .
So yeah—being a border zone, Coleman Forest wasn’t exactly safe. Magical beasts frequently slipped through, and occasionally goblins would show up too.
I’d even heard a rumor about a village near Coleman getting raided by goblins—every woman kidnapped. No idea if that was true.
A few low-level magical beasts weren’t a big deal though. My flintlock could still handle them. I’d been to Coleman Forest before, and those beasts used to scatter in all directions at the sound of a gunshot.
I stepped into the forest.
“Hey! What are you doing? Where are you headed?” Not long after entering, I heard a youth call out to his companion.
“Going into the forest to kill a few beasts. Running low on cash—need to earn a bit.”
“Are you out of your mind?” the other youth scoffed. “The academy just posted a notice—freshn are banned from entering the Coleman Forest right now.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Who knows. Rumor is, a few low-level demons slipped in from Ruglian.”
“Low-level demons? Not goblins, right?”
“Probably not. Goblins usually act in groups. If it’s just a few, they’re likely sothing else.”
“For real? …Then why didn’t the academy put a sign at the forest entrance?”
“What do you an? There is one… or, well, there was…” The youth turned around and blinked in confusion.
“Wait, where’d the notice board go? It was here this morning??”
“No idea, man.”
Bang!
A sharp gunshot rang out. Beneath the still-smoking barrel lay a large, dark-grey rabbit.
A Demon Rabbit—a magical beast slightly larger than a normal rabbit. Compared to an ordinary bunny, its eyes were unnervingly red. When facing a strong enemy, it would pretend to flee, then hide in the grass and ambush with its sharp front teeth. If it saw you stop chasing, it would shake its stubby little tail and let out a taunting “hurry hurry hurry” sound to lure you into pursuing it.
A real dirty trickster.
But I wasn’t falling for that. The mont I crossed paths with it, I calmly lit a cigarette, then silently pulled the trigger on the little bastard as it hopped away, shaking its tail.
The fur on its head was gone—stone-cold dead.
With the butterfly token in hand, two chips were added to my total—and I scored a bonus al.
Though the Demon Rabbit was a sneaky little beast, its at was delicious. Among the best survival food for travelers on the road.
Once the guts were removed and it was roasted over fire with so cumin sprinkled on top—it was crispy and tender, with six tis the protein of beef.
Whistling, I pulled out a small knife, skillfully removed the rabbit’s organs and blood, then packed up the at to take with .
Demon Rabbit at sold for a decent price. I’d used a bullet on it, after all—no way I was wasting the at.
Weekly quest: complete. Ti to head back.
Rustle rustle…
The bushes rustled.
I glanced over, surprised that there were still magical beasts not scared off by my gunfire.
Reloading a bullet into the flintlock, I parted the shrubbery.
This kind of flintlock was simple in terms of killing power, but clunky in both operation and maintenance. One shot per load. On top of that, my gun was a low-quality knockoff from so no-na workshop, handed down through who knows how many owners. I had to wait for the barrel to cool down before firing again—otherwise, it risked exploding in my face.
Parting the thick shrubs, my field of view suddenly opened up—and I froze briefly at the sight of blood staining the ground.
A massive green-blue shadow blocked my vision.
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