Activating the skill, Lynn peered at the various weapons, scrutinizing them for even the faintest glimmer of an aura. As expected, most remained dull and lifeless.

He was ready to leave when suddenly, Lynn's breathing messed up for a split second as he noticed a faint aura around one item in particular, inside a box, tucked away inconspicuously in a far corner.

Determined to remain composed, Lynn cast a casual glance towards the inconspicuous container.

Inside, laid a pistol with an incomparably exaggerated shape. A thick terrifying caliber, a body as black as ink, an equally black grip, and a blood-red texture extending from the barrel all the way to the tail.

If it wasn't for the very obvious signs of wear and tear and old age in the details, just by its styling, it would be able to beat most of the antique guns on the scene.

"This gun... it's quite beautiful," Lynn commented deliberately. Upon hearing those words, the old man’s eyes lit up, as if he found his target, he promptly placed the box in front of Lynn.

“Ah yes, you have a good eye sir! This is one of the most unique and rare pieces in my collection," the shopkeeper exclaimed excitedly.

"This," the shopkeeper began, his voice tinged with reverence, "is the Bloody Reaper. Created by Vanguard Firearms Company, it is a prototype firearm developed to showcase the company's advanced production capabilities and technological expertise. A mere 999 units were meticulously crafted before the company's dissolution, a century ago. There are not many of them in circulation."

Lynn's eyes widened as he listened intently. The Bloody Reaper held a certain air of mystique. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the weapon.

"The Bloody Reaper was originally conceived for warfare," the shopkeeper continued his voice a blend of admiration and solemnity. "It is a true monstrosity among weapons, capable of penetrating bulletproof vests, and shattering the fragile human body as easily as glass."

"It's just a pity that, for unknown reasons, this weapon specifically has lost its firearm function and can only be appreciated as a work of art," the shopkeeper lamented, his eyes reflecting a hint of regret. "But even in its current state, it remains a testament to the craftsmanship of its time."

As the shopkeeper's voice entered his ears, Lynn used his evaluation skill on the weapon.

[Bloody Reaper]

[Evaluation: A weapon forged in the fires of war and soaked in the blood of its victims. Tainted with extraordinary blood, the weapon was undergoing a transformation but the process had been interrupted].

"Extraordinary Blood?" Lynn repeated this sentence as if he had thought of something, and his eyes lit up slightly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"You know what, I think I will take this after all," Lynn declared. "It has a certain...charm, even non-functional."

Seeing that Lynn had finally designated an item to buy, the shopkeeper was delighted. Most items in his store are counterfeit or fake, produced by himself. Regarding the real ones, they were obtained through grave robbers or other suspicious channels, that's why they are in bad form and sold for cheap.

"Last month, a Bloody Reaper from the same production sold for 90,000 federation dollars at auction," the shopkeeper exclaimed excitedly. "I'll give you a special discount - only 9,000 federation dollars and it's yours! And I'll even throw in three boxes of original vintage ammunition, even if they can't be fired anymore."

Lynn maintained a calm expression, not wanting to reveal his eagerness and risk the price being raised.

"9,000 is still quite steep for a non-working antique," Lynn replied evenly. "How about 5,000?" The shopkeeper's face fell at the counteroffer.

The shopkeeper's face fell at the counteroffer. "Oh, sir, you drive a hard bargain indeed!" he lamented dramatically. "For such a rare and unique piece, I simply cannot go lower than 8,500."

Lynn pretended to contemplate the offer for a few moments before nodding. "Very well, 8,500 it is," he agreed, maintaining his composure. Inside, his heart raced with excitement.

The shopkeeper beamed, clearly delighted that a deal had been struck. Lynn discreetly handed over the federation dollars, and with great care, the shopkeeper nestled the Bloody Reaper and the boxes of vintage ammunition into a case for Lynn.

"Thank you for your business, sir!" the shopkeeper said warmly as he showed Lynn out. "It has been a pleasure."

Moments later, Lynn emerged from the antique store, a case clutched in his hand. The price he had paid, a staggering sum of 8,500 Federation dollars, would have been considered exorbitant by most people.

However, for Lynn, the cost was inconsequential. Especially when the items purchased with that money went from ordinary antique weapons to objects with the potential to be extraordinary, making the price tag seem trivial in comparison.

Initially, Lynn's purpose for visiting this area had been to procure weapons that would enhance his chances of conquering the future dungeon. Lynn wasn't sure if these firearms could cause damage to the monsters in the extraordinary realm. But now, Lynn believed that his goal had been surpassed.

Ordinary firearms may have this problem, but if it's an extraordinary firearm, the outcome would certainly be different. And he may have an idea of how to continue the process of transforming this weapon.

As Lynn walked away from the bustling main street filled with weapon shops and ventured into a narrow alley, he found himself stealthily surrounded by a group of seven youths brandishing blades.

He had spotted them observing his entrance into the antique store some time ago, and he remained aware of their presence.

The obvious leader of the group, bolstered by their numerical advantage, was about to unleash a threatening remark when Lynn abruptly seized the initiative.

He didn't give them a chance to do anything. In a split second, he charged toward the leader with incredible speed, in a blink, Lynn was already in front of the leader.

Controlling his strength to avoid killing, he delivered a powerful blow to the leader's stomach, causing him to kneel, clutching his stomach in agony.

With the case containing the firearm still in one hand, Lynn seamlessly transitioned into combat with the other six assailants. Each strike was calculated and efficient. His movements were a dance of violence, a display of skills.

After a few minutes, the paralyzed leader on the ground looked around in disbelief. All of his comrades had been effortlessly defeated by this individual they had believed to be an easy target for robbery. Some had lost consciousness, while others writhed in agony, unable to rise.

Lynn cast a casual glance at the defeated group, their bodies scattered on the ground like discarded toys. Unfazed by their feeble attempts to harm him, he calmly resumed his journey, leaving the scene of their failed attack behind.