As Fang Senyan was scrutinizing this array of weapons, the curtain at the back was lifted, and a woman stepped in. This woman looked quite familiar; it was the same one who had tried to strike up a conversation with Fang Senyan earlier and was rebuffed. She shot Fang Senyan a glare and said coldly:

“You’re the one buying the hardware?”

Fang Senyan offered no reply, instead reaching out to pick up a handgun that looked impressively formidable, immediately receiving a series of prompts from the Nightmare Mark:

“Model 500 Revolver.” (Condition: Average) “Origin: Smith & Wesson, USA.” “Equipment Rarity: White.” “Attack Power: 75~95.” “Material: Stamped titanium steel, exterior treated with shot blasting and phosphating.” “Attachable Devices: TII Silencer. Wooden stock, sling.” “Usable Ammunition: .50 Magnum high-power pistol rounds.” “Effective Range: 100 meters.” “Weight: 2.1 kilograms.” “Overall Length: 450 millimeters.” “Magazine Capacity (2 rounds) (To be repaired).” “Equipment Use Requirements: Strength must be 7 or higher.” “Rate of Fire: 8 seconds/round, very slow. Reload speed very slow: 15 seconds. (To be repaired).” “Handgun Bonus Effect: Critical Hit Accuracy +10%, Critical Hit Range -10%.” “Combat Score for this equipment: 9.” “Evaluation: With this, you could conquer the entire world—if the rate of fire were normal.” “This equipment cannot be carried out of this world.”

The immense power of this handgun immediately caught Fang Senyan’s eye. A maximum damage output of 95 meant that if he were hit squarely, he could only withstand two shots. However, the weapon's low rate of fire and minimal capacity demanded exceptionally high accuracy from the user.

Fang Senyan then picked up another weapon, a shotgun.

“Italian PA15IL Combat Shotgun.” (Condition: Average) “Origin: I Company, Italy.” “Equipment Rarity: White.” “Equipment Slot: Hand, Weapon.” “Attack Power within 8 meters: 6878. Attack Power between 820 meters: 3545. Attack Power between 2040 meters: 2737.” “Material: Stamped nickel-chromium steel plate, exterior treated with shot blasting and phosphating.” “Attachable Device: Grenade Launcher (Damaged).” “Usable Ammunition: Military and Police series.” “Effective Range: 40 meters.” “Range for same-caliber tear gas and over-caliber grenades: 150 meters (This function requires repair).” “Weight: 3.9 kilograms.” “Overall Length: 915 millimeters.” “Magazine Capacity (6 rounds).” “Rate of Fire: Fast, 1 round/second, capable of semi-automatic fire.” “Reload Speed: Slow, 8 seconds.” “Equipment Use Requirements: Strength must be 8 or higher.” “Shotgun Bonus Effect: Enemies within 8 meters have a chance to be knocked back. Bullet power weakens beyond 20 meters (This effect will be somewhat weakened after leaving this world).” “Shotgun Bonus Effect: Enemies within 8 meters have a chance to be stunned for 35 seconds. Movement and attack speed reduced by 60% (This effect will be somewhat weakened after leaving this world).” “Evaluation: This shotgun will provide you with significant help once repaired.” “Combat Score for this equipment: 9.” “This equipment cannot be carried out of this world.”

Note: Equipment grades in this book are ranked as follows: Grey (Essentially junk for sale in stores). White (Common). Light Blue (Carries 1 extra attribute). Dark Blue (Carries 12 extra attributes). Black Equipment (Carries 12 extra attributes + 0~1 passive ability). Silver Plot Equipment (Has a designated probability of dropping with unique attributes) / Green Equipment (Set). Light Green Equipment (Growable equipment) / Gold Plot Equipment. (White equipment may also carry attributes depending on the type of equipment, but these are inherent to the equipment type. That is, any gun of this type will possess the specified effect; for example, all shotguns will have the above effects, meaning a high-tier White equipment could potentially be better than Dark Blue equipment.)

“How much for these two, little lady?”

Fang Senyan glanced at the remaining firearms, realizing only these two were currently most necessary for him. He pointed to the Model 500 and the shotgun, adopting a cavalier tone as he asked lightly.

The woman’s face flushed with annoyance. She snatched the guns back and said:

“It’s Miss Katrina. If you call me ‘little lady’ again, don’t blame me for shoving this gun down your damned throat before pulling the trigger! Five thousand US dollars!”

It was clear this woman was attempting to fleece him with an exorbitant price. Even brand new, the military procurement price for these two weapons would likely not exceed four thousand dollars. Yet, these two semi-damaged used items were being sold for five thousand. Fang Senyan crossed his arms over his chest, scoffed, and retorted:

“The handgun’s magazine is half-broken, holding only two rounds. Even worse, the shotgun’s external device, the grenade launcher, is completely ruined. You dare ask so much for junk like this?”

Katrina immediately shot back:

“You idiot, using a grenade launcher on the streets of Los Angeles? Don’t you value your life enough? Are you buying or not? If not, get lost.”

Evidently, the woman still harbored resentment from Fang Senyan’s earlier rejection. Just as Fang Senyan was about to speak, the door curtain behind him moved again, and two more people entered. One of them looked quite familiar to the pimp with the rooster comb hairstyle, likely another broker here. The other was a Black man, not particularly tall, sporting the closely braided dreadlocks popular at the time, but his arm muscles bulged, looking very solid. His eyes were small, seemingly narrowed all the time, with sharp light flashing in the slits, giving an impression of sharp intelligence and efficiency.

“This is Mr. Quest,” the leading pimp introduced with a broad smile.

“He’s here to select some self-defense items.”

This pimp had clearly benefited greatly from Quest, appearing far more enthusiastic than the rooster-combed man. Fang Senyan noticed a critical detail: as soon as Quest entered, his gaze also swept first towards the shotgun on the rack!

“Could this guy also be a Contractor?” The thought flashed through Fang Senyan’s mind instantly. He kept his expression unchanged, but subtly retreated two steps, positioning himself within the adjacent shadows to appear less conspicuous. Quest, however, was clearly engrossed by the dazzling array of merchandise on the shelves. He glanced over everything superficially, finally touching the two guns Fang Senyan had selected. After a brief inspection, he stated plainly:

“How much for these two guns? I’ll take them both.”

Katrina said coldly:

“6000 US dollars.”

Quest didn’t hesitate, pulling out a thick wad of dollars, ready to pay. Fang Senyan watched clearly from the side; this guy wasn't using any kind of concealment trick like himself—he genuinely carried tens of thousands of dollars on his person! A faint light sparked in Fang Senyan’s eyes, but he immediately called out:

“Hold on, I spotted these two guns first.”

Katrina gave him a scornful look:

“Country bumpkin, we don’t deal in ‘first come, first served’ courtesy here. Everything is decided by damned dollars.”

Fang Senyan said calmly:

“Very well. Then I offer 7000 US dollars.”

Katrina turned back and shrugged at Quest, her body language making the implication clear. Quest, expressionless, stated:

“Ten thousand US dollars.”

Although Fang Senyan had always been short on funds, he had witnessed many spendthrifts flaunting their wealth while traveling around the world. He immediately mimicked their casual air while shopping:

“Twenty thousand US dollars.”

Quest said coldly: “Thirty thousand US dollars.”

Fang Senyan immediately countered without hesitation:

“Fifty thousand US dollars.”

Quest’s expression darkened. While he certainly had fifty thousand dollars, the other man’s brazen escalation exerted intense psychological pressure, suggesting that Fang Senyan was extremely well-funded and determined to win. Furthermore, fifty thousand dollars was already close to Quest’s mental limit—he only had about eighty thousand in cash on him!

The atmosphere suddenly became subtle and awkward. Fang Senyan’s heart gave a sudden lurch. The feeling was hard to describe, like a needle piercing his chest abruptly, followed by a palpitation in the region of his heart. Next, he saw Quest draw a handgun with astonishing speed from inside the collar behind his head and aim directly at him!

Fire!

Quest’s entire sequence of movements was blindingly fast yet eerily distinct, as if every action had been broken down and presented before everyone. Before the muzzle flash had even dissipated, Fang Senyan’s left chest, right over the heart, was seen with his clothes shredding and flying apart—he had been hit three times in the same spot!

A look of shock mixed with disbelief crossed Fang Senyan’s face. He staggered back a few steps, clutching his chest, before finally losing his balance and falling backward toward the ceiling. He lay still, and dark crimson blood could be seen slowly seeping through the gaps in his fingers, staining his clothes a shocking, dark red.

Clearly, Quest had managed to hide the gun in the collar behind his neck, successfully evading the body search at the entrance. After drawing his weapon and killing Fang Senyan, he didn't press the attack, but instead nodded toward Katrina and grumbled calmly in accented English:

“That’s the fate of those who meddle. Hand over the ammunition.”

Judging by his demeanor, the man treated murder as casually as eating or drinking, suggesting his hands were long stained with blood. Since this location hosted a secret underground arms market, the ammunition wouldn't be stored together with the guns; otherwise, most of the clientele buying black market weapons would be vicious thugs who might instantly use the seller’s own weapons and ammo against them! Katrina, though held at gunpoint, showed no fear, staring intently at the handgun Quest held and grinding out:

“You damned cop!”

This Carnival nightclub, daring to host an underground arms market, naturally had connections stretching into both the criminal and law enforcement worlds. Hearing the gunshot, the burly guards outside immediately drew their weapons and rushed in. Meanwhile, the rooster-combed man and the other broker nearby drew triangular razors from their waists, heedless of the enemies’ firearms, their eyes fierce as they closed in to stab!

(To be continued, please visit for the latest chapters: .)