I flicked the light switch on. Nothing, not even a spark. I sighed openly as I felt my way around, setting both duffle bags on what I assumed was the workbench, rifling through them for my lighters and candles as muffled laughter and conversation could be heard outside.
It took a minute or two to get the first candle set up where I was sure it wouldn't fall, and another minute to find a lighter that I could use for it. The light flickered into existence, a faint scent of citrus mixing with the dust filled air.
My workbench was one of the more basic models, only holding a few basic tools, from hammers to saws, sandpaper and a metal file, a blowtorch, and a portable grinding machine. Whether it would work was anyone's guess, the fairly rusted machine already plugged into one of two outlets. Just for kicks I tried turning it on, fairly surprised when it whirred to life.
I switched the candle to my more favored vanilla one, setting the bags down on the little empty space off to the side. I breathed in the scent of vanilla, running my hands over the wooden frame of the bench, the cold metal locker able to hold maybe eight rifles in total if I squeezed them inside.
I pulled the first block of wood out and began the work needed to create the frame, sanding and sawing away, sawdust mixing into the air and caking my mask, needing to be cleared off repeatedly.
The trigger assembly was a much more difficult task than I expected, though I had all the parts needed to build one instead of just metal scraps. Springs, screws, and other basic parts were easy, though some of the others had to be carefully filed down in order to fit just right.
The bolt was also a difficult task, though I made it from leftover screws, springs, cylinders and other bits and pieces I'd gotten my hands on, the crafting system surprisingly simplified and accepting of less than adequate work. Having no organization for any of my materials doubled the time it took to get everything together, though I found myself getting lost in the process of putting everything together, screwing the pipe into the frame and welding a bracket to it to keep it in place, a bit of scrap metal getting the same treatment to serve as a sight.
Finally, I received a notification saying that I'd done it.
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You have created a light grey crude weapon. Would you like to name your creation?
Yes/No
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I accepted immediately, typing in exactly what I thought of the hastily made excuse for a rifle.
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Slapdash Rifle
Made from parts and pieces, this cobbled together rifle is the best friend to any beginner insurgent. Chambered in 5.56x45 NATO
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I ran my hand along the surface of the finished product, the ugly smoothed down stock just big enough to serve its purpose, the handle cut down so that it wouldn't be too unwieldy to hold, though it would be just a little bit awkward to pull the trigger each time.
Looking down the sigh I found the metal I'd used was bent out of shape, so I grabbed a pair of pliers, carefully bending it back so that it pointed relatively upward instead of off to the side. Afterward I breathed a sigh of satisfaction, placing it inside the locker and beginning work on the next block of wood.
The conversation and laughter outside eventually tapered off before disappearing entirely as I lost myself in the process of making barely serviceable guns, the bullets I was using just barely small enough to fit while the casings would not. I'd bought only a single box of ammunition to shoot through the thing if I had to test them, though mostly it was just to make sure the bullets could actually move through the improvised barrels.
Every now and then I had to make some small adjustments to ensure the bullet would go through while the casing would be left behind. It wasn't a great system for producing weapons, but it worked well enough for the time being.
I churned our rifle after rifle, placing each in the locker beside the others while the forums updated in the background, only occasionally glancing at them as I finished each part and piece. My hands felt rough, caked with sawdust a few small cuts, though no bleed effect activated. It was incredibly satisfying work that fed the rush of adrenaline with each completed rifle being beautiful to look at in a vain sort of way. Almost like looking at myself in the mirror whenever I happened by.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
I couldn't help but stare at the six I'd made so far, knowing that they were something I had made, without anyone helping or supporting me. I looked at the time and figured it was as good a time as any to log off for a break.
Coming out of the pod I felt more refreshed and good about myself than I had in a long while, putting on my prosthetic leg with a childish grin plastered to my face. I even felt good enough to cook, something I rarely did nowadays. Seasoned cheeseburger in hand, I grabbed my laptop and sat down on the couch in my living room, the smell of vegetable seasoning and well-done beef almost intoxicating. I had earned this little break.
I savored the burger as I spent the next half an hour watching a bad comedy, occasionally muttering my own commentary that made fun of it as I so often did in the past. I grabbed a cherry soda somewhere in the middle, the crackling feel of a carbonated liquid in my mouth refreshing my body like nitrous in a supercar.
Once I felt relaxed enough with my break I logged back in, the vanilla scented candle still burning, chasing away the dark of my cramped storage shed turned workshop. I grabbed the next block of wood and went to work on creating the other four rifles that I'd be selling. While working I thought about who I might be able to sell to, ending up muttering to myself, bouncing ideas off the metaphorical wall.
"Sell to new players? It's possible to do since they have less than a hundred credits and very little equipment. Low chance of survival though, so they might just lose or break them, then come to me wanting their money back. Not an option for now. Can't sell to random players, nobody'll buy. A group sale would be better, sell them all at once. Large guild could make the money needed to buy my weapons for expendable gear." I finished cutting out the stock, grabbing the sandpaper and beginning to smoothen the edges.
"Too bad they would also likely reverse engineer the weapon, making my sales worthless. Small guilds could also provide the money, and would have less chance of taking the weapon to mass produce. Not the best option, but still better than selling it to those clearly capable of reproducing the weapon. Will have to make do with what I've got." My hands moved repetitively, though sometimes various adjustments had to be made to the mechanisms I was building by hand. It was a grueling process in some cases, but in the end I had ten Slapdash Rifles made, eight of them in the locker while the other two sat atop the workbench. I was also covered in sawdust at this point.
I need an apron and a different mask or something.
I looked over at the forums and began making another post, this one aimed more towards the smaller guilds. I also added in the same thumbnail I'd used for my last sale, since it looked far better than a locker full of pipe guns.
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Selling weapons in bulk
I've created a small shipment worth of weapons chambered for rifle caliber ammunition, and am looking for a buyer. Ten weapons altogether worth 500 credits for any small guild hoping to gain a fighting chance on the battlefield. The larger guilds are trying to play by their own rules, so I figure it's only fair that we break those rules any way we can. If you're wanting to buy, comment below and I might get in touch with you.
-Keldath
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With that taken care of I hopped up onto the workbench, the tools and guns pushed off to the side. I scrolled through various threads to get an idea of what was happening in the other servers.
It hadn't been long, but in the Chinese server the guild that had been holding its own against another larger, more powerful guild had been hit in a vicious raid on their guild hall inside the city. There was even a short video of one of the defenders using an automatic handgun, spraying lead down a hallway just as the door was kicked open, taking out the first visible attacker and catching a second in the shoulder, before return fire forced him to take cover behind an overturned table.
Getting a better look at everything as I paused the video, it looked like an enlarged version of some of the apartments I'd seen, complete with kitchen dining hall, common room, and more. It was also too bad the table that the player was hiding behind wasn't made of a thicker wood. Bullets ripped through it and the video ended shortly after, even as more gunfire could be heard in the background, everyone shouting in Mandarin.
In the European server the guild war was in full swing, NPC guards appearing almost everywhere even as players attacked each other with nothing other than their fists, the fighting most brutal around the guild currently in possession of the legendary item. Normal players were able to give it a wide berth, with a group of them even managing to open up a bar, though currently the location was near where the fighting was taking place.
It was during all this reading that I received more threats from the Lion's Mane guild, along with a few offers from less equipped and smaller guilds alike. I had a choice between three different guilds, the largest of which was hoping to get a look at the guns, and if all went well, procure another order. The smallest guild was just after the first shipment, while the guild that had a more middling population was just as cagey as I was, saying that they'd buy the weapons so long as the meeting point wasn't leaked in any way.
Not wanting to deal with anyone who was like me again, I didn't bother with them, instead choosing the larger guild as my first option. If things didn't go well, then I'd just get the guns to the smaller of the two.
After some back and forth, it was decided that the meeting point would be in the same empty warehouse I'd used before. It would serve as a place to both do the deal, and to demonstrate the capabilities of the weapon. I told them to meet me there in an hour, and filled both duffle bags with all the rifles they could handle, stuffing them almost to bursting.