“Young Master, Wannabe returned from killing rats in the sewer”
Reported my personal maid Ifective Cervant. Wannabe, like every Hero I met, had been quite shocked that a rich noble would have such a personal maid. Why? Well, the biggest reason is that she’s almost forty (though expensive potions kept her looking in her late twenties). Every Hero who has seen her seems to think either I have something called an “Onee-Sama” complex, or that she must be a cherished childhood nanny of mine. Hardly. I’m not going to pick my personal assistant based only on looks. As for the second theory, I vaugely remember having a nanny who tenderly looked after me until the age of ten, I wonder what she’s doing these days? Well, I probably wont get around to checking.
The real reason I chose her is that, before her retirement, Ifective Cervant was one of the Dyrecktor house’s most effective spies. Though she was forced to give that up (as the other houses began to notice the unusual amount of poisoning deaths whenever she was around) she carefully maintained her knowledge of the wealthy and powerful on Klishay, as well as her proficiency with the several poisoned blades hidden about her person. A discrete cough brings me back to the matter at hand.
“Ah, right. I suppose he’s grown too much to keep sending him on those. Now...”
“As it happens Young Master, I heard that there was outbreak of Giant Leeches in the O’Duras swamp recently...”
“Perfect. Send him at once.”
I congratulate myself (yet again) on having the good sense to pick an intelligent maid, instead of some useless ornament. The only thing worse would be one of those “clumsy maids” that some Heroes were obsessed with. One noble house that had allowed a Hero to marry in had been relieved, at first, when the Hero was content with cheap poorly trained slave-girls. They had never considered how much it could cost to replace dozens of porcelain cups and dishes, every day, for years. That house is now remembered as “the house destroyed by rom-com”.
A few minutes later, I’m sitting on my balcony, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face, the cup of tea in my hand, and the sounds of wailing in my ears as Wannabe’s collar forces him on his way. However, my enjoyment is interrupted.
“Young Master, it seems Gun Freak is here early.”
Ifective knows better than to use his real name, I didn’t even try to remember it. The reason will soon be obvious. The contract this time was, in exchange for a large sum of gold, to provide within three months a weapon capable of slaying any D rank or lower monster. He seemed to think I would be very surprised by it. Seriously, after 300 years with Heroes running around did he think we never heard about guns before?
“So, he’s completed a prototype in just 1 and 1/2 months has he? Isn’t he rushing things?”
“It seems he's learned about the... special treatment... Young Master has given to Wannabe.”
“Oh? I guess I’ll have to keep my fun more private then.”
“.....yes, Young Master”
“Well, have the monsters I ordered arrived yet?”
“Only the first two I’m afraid Young Master.”
“That should be plenty. Bring the first to the training yard, and bring Gun Freak there as well.”
Soon, I’m standing in the training yard with Gun Freak, who is looking both nervous and excited as he clutches a weapon that looks just like the sketches I’ve seen of the “rifle” the 3rd Hero kept trying to make work. That’s not surprising. Apparently, time flows 30 times faster on Klishay than Earth, so all these idiots came from within 10 years of each other.
“So, you have a usable prototype already? Well done!” (Empyreus)
“Yes Sir! I guarantee you’ll be amazed by this weapon!” (Freak)
“I’m sure I will! Now I have your first test subject over there.”
“Of course! I’ll...”
“Is something wrong? An Armored Armadillo is just a D rank monster, like we agreed. Even if its shell is a bit hard, its slow and its attacks are weak. Besides, its in a one-way barrier right now. You have all the time in the world to aim your shot.”
Gun Freak is silent. He knows this is a bad match-up, but what can he do? I’m a little worried about this first shot. Armored Armadillos have a few vulnerable areas, and if hits one... never mind he misses the beast entirely. Seems those handmade bullets of his have some problems. After the first bullet hits the dirt near its foot, the startled armadillo curls up into a ball. Gun Freak’s face fills with despair. He keeps trying, but every shot just bounces off. After he runs out of ammo and begins to leave, I kindly reassure him he still has a month and a half left, so no need to worry.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
1 month later: Gun Freak is back, carrying a larger more robust looking rifle. The nervousness and excitement are gone, and I now see a fiery determination burning in his eyes. I close my eyes for a moment in pity, before saying cheerfully...
“You’re back! And still 2 weeks early no less!”
“Yes sir. This time, I’ll show you the true power of guns!”
“I’m sure. Well, your target is in same place as last time.”
“Yes sir! I’ll...” he fell deathly silent.
“I lowered the difficulty for you. A Sonic Bat is only an E ranked monster after all.”
He just stares at me. My smile turns cold for a moment, and he realizes there’s no point even asking for the armadillo back. He tries his best, but it seems his new gun trades accuracy for more power. He once again can only bang away until he’s out of ammo. I escort him out the gate with the usual reassurances. They aren’t as convincing this time, but then again, I’m not really trying anymore.
2 weeks later: It the day of the contract deadline. Gun Freak tried to come back earlier, but I had Ifective convince him to wait until the last moment to be as prepared as possible. He is carrying both guns this time, with over a hundred bullets for each of them this time. His eyes burn with determination, lets see how many seconds that lasts this time.
“So glad you made it! I was getting a bit worried.”
Gun Freak is silent, he’s seen through my act now.
“Well, you’re here now, let me show you your target.”
“Yes sir. I...”
Oh? About 40 seconds it seems. Well, I can’t blame him, this one is just nasty.
“Why are you hesitating? Any weapon needs to be able to beat a common slime after all!”
Actually, Large Slimes like this one are quite rare, but there’s no need to mention that to Gun Freak. It’s still technically a D rank monster after all. It looks like he’s managed to increase the accuracy of the smaller gun somehow. Is that a new barrel? He seems to have done a better job with rifling this time. Too bad that actually hurts his chances of hitting the slime’s core. You see, trying to shoot a slime is like trying to shoot through water. Refraction means the core isn’t actually where it looks like it is. On top of that, there’s a lot of deflection with a little bullet like that. Bullet after bullet burrows into the slime and dissolves, leaving no visible effect.
He’s trying the bigger gun now. This one is still as inaccurate as before, so it might actually hit by dumb luck. I say a brief prayer to the Benevolent Goddess, and suddenly Gun Freaks bullets are missing the slime entirely. I could swear I heard the sound of a woman laughing. No one else hears it? Must be my imagination. Oh? Looks like that big gun can shoot swarms of tiny bullets as well as big ones. He must have made that for the bat. Too bad it’s useless on the slime, they just dissolve a foot in. Is it over? He’s only gone through half his ammo this time, but it seems he’s given up.
“Are you finished?”
“....”
“Good! Now, let me show you what an effective weapon is like.”
I gesture for the handlers to switch monsters. Gun Freak’s eyes light up as the Armored Armadillo is brought out, and he reaches for that large gun but I stop him.
“Too late for that. No, you’ll be using this instead.”
I place a heavy crossbow into his hands. Gun Freak looks incredulous. A crossbow?! Having read nothing but military and survivalist magazines back in his own world, he is aware that crossbows are still used by some modern hunters, but he never knew why. Crossbows can’t possibly compare to guns after all.
So naturally Gun Freak isn’t expecting much as he casually aims the crossbow at the armadillo and pulls the trigger. With a loud crack the monster sinew bowstring snaps forward, the treent bow straightens, and the Startled Hero lands on his butt. He spouts a bunch of nonsensical sounds of surprise, and those sounds become downright frantic as he realizes the bolt he fired has gone right through the armadillo’s shell and killed it in one shot.
“Why are you so surprised? Even if they’re not as fast, those bolts have dozens of times the mass of those little bullets of yours.”
“....”
“Oh quit sulking. Now, pour your mana into the stock.”
The Sulky Hero does so, and he’s left gaping again as the bowstring pulls back into position. As soon as its fully drawn a new bolt pops out in front of it, and another round of nonsense sounds burst out.
“Oh be quiet, it’s just space magic. You know? It’s the same as those item bags every adventurer carries, did you think that enchantment only worked on cloth?”
The Babbling Hero falls silent again. Obviously that magic would work just as well for bullets, but he never thought to ask an enchanter about it. Meanwhile, the handlers moved the Sonic Bat into the field and I prod the Sullen Hero into action. His heart isn’t in it, but a crossbow is similar enough to a gun that sheer habit forces him to aim properly. There is another crack and a single bloody wing flutters down to the ground, all that can be found of the poor bat, and the Gaping Hero makes a reappearance. He is quickly replaced by the Sullen Hero again, he must think it was just luck.
Finally, the Large Slime is brought out, and again it dies with one shot. Gun Freak explodes.
“YOU CHEATER!!! You’ve got spells on the field! Or... or... or... something! This can’t...”
“The bow.”
“What?”
“The crossbow has a True Shot enchantment on it, just like all high quality bows and crossbows sold in this country.”
What do I call this one? The Gaping Bugeyed Sulky Hero? Never mind.
“It’s a spell that subtly guides the bow in direction of whatever your looking at as you aim. It’s expensive and complicated, but so are those tubes of ground glass lenses you were fiddling with, and the enchantment is a lot sturdier and more useful.”
Sulky Hero, Sullen Hero, and Gaping Hero all appear and disappear repeatedly as everything he’s just been through collides with his near religious belief that: Guns = Automatic Win. It seems denial is winning out, and the Babbling Hero gives more incoherent protests until, finally, time runs out and a slave collar tattoo burns itself onto his neck.
Oh by the way, some may have noticed that it was impossible for any one weapon to slay any kind of D rank or lower monster. That’s why parties need a variety of different classes after all. So why didn’t I just wait for the timer to run out? Well, if the target doesn’t know he failed, his resistance to contract magic will be higher. That’s the reason. It’s not just because I enjoy mentally torturing these Heroes.