May I see what it looks like?" Robert asked, holding out his large, calloused palm.
"Of course, just a moment," Fyar replied. He reached into his pocket, took out a single bullet, and carefully placed it in Robert's palm. The contrast between the small, sleek metal object and the dwarf's rough hand was very apparent.
Robert examined the object meticulously. He rolled the metal piece between his thick thumb and forefinger. In his trained eyes, this thing called a bullet seemed too small. Strange. He didn't understand how a projectile this small could be effective for a weapon. He also didn't understand why the purple-haired youth before him wanted it so badly.
After a moment of silence,, Robert finally looked at Fyar. "Yes, I can make it. Is this standard shape the only one you want?"
A sudden idea flashed through Fyar's mind. His eyes widened slightly.
Wait. what about ..An artifact stone... could that be shaped into a bullet? How strong would the result be? If it's possible, this weapon would be incredibly useful against magic users.
After mulling it over for a few seconds, Fyar asked Robert again, "Is it possible for you to make the same shape, but from an artifact stone?"
Hearing the question, Rasie's eyebrow rose, while Robert, on the other hand, let out a chuckle. His laughter was deep and heavy, like stones grinding together.
"Hahaha, of course it's possible, young man! That would even add a special effect to each shot. But, the cost will be very, very expensive," Robert said with a wide grin.
"How expensive?" Fyar asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
"Forty gold coins for ten rounds!" Robert answered enthusiastically.
Crazy! Just for ten rounds? Fyar screamed internally. However, he then remembered that all of this was being financed by Illya. His gaze shifted to Rasie, sending her a look full of hope.
Rasie, who seemed to understand his look, just scoffed. "You really are an idiot. Of course we're not going to pay for something that expensive. Use your own money if you want strange bullets. So shameless."
Fyar could only sigh in disappointment. I knew it.
He then looked back at Robert. "For the normal bullets, what's the price?"
"For the normal ones like this, maybe two gold coins per round," Robert answered.
"Just make one hundred of the normal ones," Rasie interjected, looking straight at Robert as if taking over the conversation.
"Alright," Robert nodded.
One hundred rounds? Fyar did a quick calculation in his head. That means two hundred gold coins. He was once again amazed by Illya's wealth, which seemed to have no end.
"Alright, idiot. Now you can choose a weapon," Rasie said, pulling Fyar from his thoughts. "Make sure the price is no more than one hundred gold coins. For armor, no more than fifty gold coins."
"O-okay," Fyar replied, feeling a little intimidated.
Fyar began to let his gaze wander over the rows of weapons displayed neatly on the walls and wooden racks. His eyes caught a giant sword nearly the height of a full-grown man, looking heavy and brutal. Next to it was a dagger that looked more like a kitchen knife, completely unappealing. However, one weapon in the corner managed to steal his attention. A longsword with a slightly curved blade and a simple yet elegant hilt, strongly resembling a katana.
It's so similar, I suspect its creator might be someone like me, maybe a transmigrator from Japan.
He approached the weapon, feeling a strange, faint aura emanating from it. "Sir Robert, may I know the price of this sword?"
"Ooh, you have quite a unique taste, purple-haired youth," Robert commented as he walked over. "That sword was sold by an adventurer some time ago. He said he found it in a level-thirty dungeon. The reason he sold it is because this sword absorbs the user's magical energy." Robert sighed for a moment before continuing, "No one wants to buy it because of that troublesome side effect. That's why the price is only fifteen gold coins."
Rasie chimed in from behind Fyar. "I tried using that sword once. After ten minutes, half of my magical energy was completely drained. In my opinion, this sword is cursed."
Fyar fell silent, his mind immediately working at high speed. Drains magical energy? That's not a problem for me, since I don't have any. In fact, this is an advantage. What surprised him more was the sword's origin. A level-thirty dungeon? He knew how dangerous such a place was. Zaefal and the others, whose levels were above fourteen, only dared to enter a level-ten dungeon with a full party. This sword felt very mysterious. Could it have belonged to a high-level transmigrator?
After weighing all the possibilities for a moment, Fyar made up his mind. He touched the hilt of the sword, feeling the cold metal in his palm.
"I'll take this one," he said in a firm voice.