Chương 108: Gearing Up

Before I even realized it, a low whistle escaped my lips.

"... Well, hello there." I leaned closer to the floating marketplace display. The blue light painted my face as the revolver's image slowly rotated before my eyes. Good grief. It was gorgeous. No. Gorgeous wasn't enough. This thing looked like the kind of weapon protagonists discovered halfway through dramatic movie trailers while electric guitars screamed in the background. Thunderclap. Even the name sounded cool. It wasn't trying too hard.

It wasn't named something ridiculous like Apocalypse Ender Omega Dragonfang Supreme. It had dignity. Confidence. The kind of name that casually walked into the room wearing sunglasses. I stared at the enlarged image. The hardened blacksteel frame gleamed beneath the marketplace's magical rendering. Silver engravings resembling branching lightning stretched elegantly across the weapon's body, tracing along the cylinder and frame like frozen bolts captured in steel.

The barrel possessed a slightly heavier profile than standard revolvers. Not bulky. Not oversized. Just enough to give it presence. It looked dependable. Like the weapon equivalent of a guy who helped you move furniture without being asked. The crimson grip caught my attention next. Deep red hardwood wrapped carefully in drakehide strips. Refined. Practical. Beautiful. It looked expensive without screaming for attention. Like someone had designed it with the philosophy that true confidence didn't need to shout.

Then there was the tiny emblem above the hammer. A thundercloud pierced by a lightning bolt. Subtle. Elegant. Cool enough to make my inner twelve-year-old immediately start throwing confetti. I slowly shook my head.

"Would you look at this beautiful lady." I placed a hand over my chest.

"You deserve better than being buried at the bottom of the marketplace rankings." I glanced toward the listing position again. Still near the bottom. Still ignored. I didn't understand it. The stats fit me perfectly. The special effect wasn't useless. The design looked incredible. And apparently nobody wanted it. Which meant one of two things. Either I was about to make the greatest purchase decision of my life. Or I was starring in a cautionary tale. Honestly?

Those odds had described most of my recent life choices anyway. My eyes drifted toward the price. [Price: 499 Gold.] Silence. Then I blinked. Then blinked again.

"... You're kidding." I looked at my gold total. Then back at the revolver. The difference was six gold coins. Six. I had just enough money left over to potentially buy a sandwich. Assuming fantasy inflation hadn't decided bread was a luxury commodity. I narrowed my eyes at Thunderclap.

"They don't want you?" I pointed accusingly at the listing.

"Their loss." I folded my arms.

"You've got style." I pointed at the stats. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"You've got exactly what I'm looking for." I pointed toward the special effect.

"And accuracy isn't exactly useless when my entire combat strategy revolves around introducing bullets to people who don't appreciate being introduced to bullets." I nodded firmly.

"Congratulations."

"You've officially been adopted." Without giving myself enough time to reconsider and accidentally become responsible, I pressed the purchase button. The interface immediately responded. [Purchase Confirmed.] That was it. No dramatic warning. No confirmation asking if I was absolutely sure. No financial advisor materializing from thin air to question my life decisions. The system really trusted people with money way too much. A pulse of blue light swept across the marketplace terminal. The listing disappeared.

Then... The revolver emerged. Thunderclap floated gently in front of me. The blacksteel frame caught the ambient lighting of the Player Center, reflecting subtle glimmers across its polished surfaces. The silver engravings seemed even more intricate in person. Beautiful lines danced across the frame like captured lightning frozen mid-strike. The crimson grip contrasted perfectly against the dark steel. The weapon possessed weight. Presence. Reality. It wasn't a marketplace image anymore. It was mine.

I reached out instinctively. The moment my fingers wrapped around the grip, something clicked. Not literally. Emotionally. Comfort. Familiarity. The drakehide wrapping settled naturally against my palm. The balance felt incredible. Not too heavy. Not too light. It rested in my hand as though it had been built specifically with me in mind. I raised it slightly, testing its weight. The thicker barrel steadied the weapon without making it cumbersome. Even the positioning of the grip encouraged a natural hold.

I flexed my fingers experimentally. Then adjusted my wrist. Then pointed it harmlessly toward the floor.

"... Okay." I tried to remain calm. Failed immediately.

"This thing is awesome." I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face.

"You know those moments when you buy something online and you're praying it doesn't turn out to be disappointing garbage held together by false advertising and hope?" I looked down at Thunderclap.

"This is the exact opposite of that." I admired the weapon again. It looked ridiculous in the best possible way. It looked dangerous. Stylish. Competent. Most importantly... It looked absolutely badass in my hand. I stood there for a moment simply appreciating it. Because for all the jokes I'd made since arriving in this world... For all the near-death experiences. The monster fights. The financial suffering. The endless realization that everything cost more money than I possessed.

This was my first genuine upgrade. Something earned. Something tangible. Something that made me feel like maybe I wasn't just barely surviving anymore. The blue interface shimmered once more. [Thunderclap has been equipped.] [Your current stats are being updated.] ••••• MP: 100 Gold: 6 •••••• [STATS] VITALITY: 2 INTELLIGENCE: 6 (+4) STRENGTH: 4 (+3) DEXTERITY: 4 AGILITY: 4 (+3) ••••• EQUIPMENT: MAIN WEAPON: Revolver —Thunderclap (T1) (I+4) (S+3) (A+3) (RE +0) ••••• Before I knew it, I found myself nodding approvingly at my status window. Thunderclap. My very first proper Tier One weapon. I gave it one final appreciative look.

"Yeah," I muttered to myself.

"We're definitely surviving at least ten percent more stylishly now." The revolver obviously didn't respond. Which was probably for the best. Because if my gun started talking, I would immediately need to reevaluate several life choices and possibly consult a priest. With a flick of my wrist, I returned Thunderclap to my inventory. The weapon dissolved instantly. Blacksteel unraveled into countless blue particles that drifted into the air like tiny fragments of starlight before disappearing completely. I blinked.

I don't care how normal everyone acted around magical storage systems. That would never stop being cool. Imagine explaining this to people back on Earth.

"Yeah, I keep my firearm in another dimension now."

"Where?"

"Pocket glitter." The sheer convenience was criminal. No holsters. No extra baggage. No awkward fumbling. Just poof. Weapon gone. Whoever invented inventory systems deserved a Nobel Prize. Or at least a really enthusiastic high-five. I turned away from my disappearing revolver and looked toward the rest of the group. Apparently, I hadn't been the only one busy making financially questionable but emotionally satisfying purchases. Everyone seemed to have finished shopping.

The atmosphere around us carried a quiet excitement. People inspected new equipment. Adjusted straps. Tested grips. Checked stats. There was a certain universal happiness that came from buying gear upgrades. It was the same feeling as getting a new phone, except this phone occasionally helped prevent monsters from turning you into abstract art. My gaze drifted toward Dimitri. The giant Russian stood there looking absurdly pleased with himself. Then again, Dimitri usually looked pleased with life in general.

The man could probably find joy in watching paint dry. I raised an eyebrow.

"So?" I folded my arms.

"What did you end up getting, big guy?" Dimitri's eyes brightened instantly.

"My excellent brother!" He grinned.

"Allow me the great honor of presenting my newest companion upon the battlefield." There was genuine pride in his voice. Not arrogance. Excitement. Like a kid showing off a treasured birthday present. With a flourish that looked entirely too theatrical for a shopping trip, Dimitri summoned his newly acquired equipment. Blue particles gathered before him. The scattered motes condensed. Metal emerged from light. Piece by piece, the shield took shape. Then it fully materialized. I stared.

"... Holy crap." The thing was enormous. Not oversized in a ridiculous fantasy anime way where physics simply resigned from employment. No. It looked believable. Heavy. Practical. The kind of object designed by someone whose entire philosophy revolved around saying absolutely not to incoming violence. Layered iron plates formed its broad rectangular body. Three raised reinforcement ribs stretched vertically across the front, creating the impression of immense durability.

Darksteel framed the edges, giving the shield a bold silhouette that somehow made it look even more intimidating. At its center rested a steel dome protruding outward like the fist of an angry fortress. Leather-wrapped grips and reinforced straps occupied the rear. Every detail screamed reliability. This wasn't decorative. This wasn't flashy. This thing had one job. Stand there. Get hit. Refuse to care.

It looked like somebody had taken an entire castle gate and shrunk it down into a portable middle finger directed at danger. I slowly tilted my head upward toward Dimitri. Then back down toward the shield. Then upward again.

"... You know what?" I pointed at him.

"Floor Three's monsters are about to have a really terrible day." I gestured toward the shield.

"I genuinely feel bad for anything dumb enough to charge at you." I paused.

"Actually, scratch that." I looked at the shield again.

"I don't feel bad at all." I placed a hand over my heart.

"Because if I were a monster and saw a giant Russian advancing toward me carrying what appears to be an aggressively portable fortress..." I shook my head solemnly.

"... I'd simply resign." I mimed filling out paperwork."'Dear management. Effective immediately, I am retiring from monsterhood. Please accept this notice. I have reconsidered my career path.'" I pointed at the shield one last time.

"Seriously though." I grinned.

"Good luck to whatever poor idiots on Floor Three have to deal with you while you're carrying that thing." ••••• For anyone curious, this is Dimitri's Shield. ••••• Name: Bastion of the Iron Wall Type: Shield Tier: 1 Level Requirement: 1 Stats: +4 Vitality, +3 Strength, +3 Dexterity Quality: Standard Refinement: 0/10 Special Effect: Unyielding Bulwark - Increases Block Rate by 10%. Description: A heavy shield designed for Guardians who hold the front line against overwhelming force.

Its broad rectangular body is constructed from layered iron plates riveted together, allowing impacts to be distributed across the entire shield rather than concentrating on a single point. Running vertically across the front are three raised reinforcement ribs that increase structural strength and help deflect incoming strikes away from the wielder.

The outer edge is wrapped in a thick darksteel frame to prevent warping and reduce damage from repeated weapon impacts, while also giving the shield a bold and imposing profile. At the center is a protruding steel dome that serves as an impact disperser, reducing the force transferred directly to the Guardian's arm when blocking powerful attacks.

The rear features a reinforced horizontal grip wrapped in textured leather for a secure hold, accompanied by adjustable forearm straps secured with brass fittings that improve control during defensive maneuvers. Small ventilation slots are built into the upper corners to reduce overall weight without significantly compromising durability, helping the wielder reposition the shield more efficiently.

The combination of reinforced ribs, a strengthened frame, and a central impact dome gives the Bastion of the Iron Wall the appearance of a portable fortress built to endure punishment that would shatter lesser defenses. •••••