Bamboo's Demise, Firepower's Dawn
The Bamboo Cannon on this uninhabited island was like a modern shotgun, scattering shot for wide effect. But its power was weak—very weak. That meant firing at zero range, closing in on those bastards amid the chaos, which wasn't without its risks. Now, though, it felt like a fight he could handle, dopamine surging as he pressed on without flinching.
Bang!
"Eek!"
The last Bamboo Cannon fulfilled its role in the final wave, its barrel ripping apart in destruction. Staring down at the charred bamboo scraps scattered on the ground, he felt a pang of sorrow—like comrades who'd shared the crisis were gone. But it was time to wrap this journey. He drew his rusted cutlass.
Whoosh, whoosh. Swinging the ill-fitting bludgeon a few times to loosen up.
The last monster charged in sync with his movements. Having faced it before, he deftly parried its attack and smashed the bludgeon down on its head.
Splat!
Power reduced by 60%
After witnessing the monstrous firepower earlier, this already pathetic attack felt downright trivial.
Tsking at the dull impact, he kept swinging relentlessly despite the disappointment. Thanks to the Bamboo Cannons preserving his stamina, finishing off the last one wasn't hard. Squeezing out every ounce of strength, he battered its head until, after three or four blows, it spewed black blood everywhere and collapsed dead.
[Monsters of the Classic of Mountains and Seas 1] completed.
Reward: Ally Hendrick's activity radius expanded.
The mechanical quest-clear chime rang out, but it barely registered—one ear in, one ear out. His mind was occupied with something far more pressing.
Possibility.
He wanted revenge. But he couldn't. His abilities fell short. Simple logic, undeniable truth. How do you take down beings who soar through the skies, unleash sword winds, and shrug off blades on bare skin without a scratch? Rational thinking.
But after experiencing the Bamboo Cannon's firepower firsthand, he wondered if it might actually be possible. The fastest way to compensate for lacking stats? Item power—gear that carried him. He'd seen movies and anime about that in his past life: modern guns dominating past eras or other worlds. Why not in a martial world?
A gunslinger in a wuxia novel. That vibe.
If even the crappiest weapon like the Bamboo Cannon did this, what if he could recreate modern tech here? He didn't know yet. But the revenge he'd dismissed as impossible now felt within reach. Just the thought had his body trembling with excitement, even if it was mere imagination for now.
"...Then the story changes."
[What did you just say?]
"Ah, nothing."
He hadn't meekly taken the abuse back home out of liking it. Reality just left compromise and submission as his only options.
But with a new card in hand? The story changed.
"Yeah, let's give it a shot."
Clear the hidden opportunity first, then start revenge slowly, within his means. Sensing possibility naturally sharpened his goals and mindset.
*
Hendrick's expanded activity radius didn't bring massive changes. It just slightly reduced chance encounters, easing his ears a bit. And now he could smith on the beach instead of the deck for Hendrick's guidance.
[Check if you've gathered all materials. Realize mid-process you're missing one? You'll cry—wasted materials gone. Want that dogshit experience? Stay comfy. Otherwise, double-check!]
Unlike the fire-banned deck, the beach allowed anything. The biggest change: working on sand without deck risks.
[Move it carefully! Sturdy, sure, but a slight bend inside makes smithing hell!]
At Hendrick's order to fetch the forge from the hull, he marveled at the wooden ship housing such a thing. Long voyages demanded prep for anything, even if rarely used.
He hefted the portable forge—designed for easy transport, yet needing three or four strongmen. Lifting it solo with ease, then adding tools, he enjoyed Hendrick's shocked face.
[Knew you were strong, but this insane?]
Even Hendrick, the boastful Spanish sailor who'd seen it all, was impressed.
[Swordplay's shit, but strength? Real deal. Central Plains—cough—er, Goryeo folk all like this?]
Praise laced with pokes at sore spots. Why always? He wanted to snap back—don't diss innate traits—but this era lacked such concepts. Loser bends. Brushing off the hurt, he set the forge in a sand pit, then arranged bellows, anvil, and fuel beside it. Bamboo shelves held hammers and tools—luxurious for a deserted island.
[Coal's best for steady heat, but charcoal substitutes fine.]
With a top-tier mentor like Hendrick, it boiled down to his effort and how far these guns would go in the martial world.
"Shall we start?"
Days: Dismantle the wreck bit by bit, scour the island for materials.
Nights: Exercise or smith with hammer and tongs.
Reversed from clan days, minus the pressure and tension.
Just free, fun pursuit of his goals, living each day fully.
*
[Ao, you. How many times have I said reinforce strong here?]
"Hendrick, you teach too much at once—too many details to track!"
[Details? No 'English'! It's detail, Tonto!]
"Aish, got it. Detail, de-tail! Happy??"
He thought he was progressing well.
Early praise made him think his Heavenly Mechanism Star talent shone, but lately Hendrick mixed in scoldings. The initial kindness? Veteran mercy to keep the newbie hooked. Now he seemed committed, so real training began.
Intellectually, better for growth. Emotionally? Kinda hurtful.
◈ Heavenly Mechanism Star talent infused into the tool.
◈ Wear conditions more complex (Recoil +2).
◈ Performance greatly enhanced (Piercing +1).
Under Hendrick's guidance, these alien narrations echoed constantly during crafting—now familiar.
Recoil, piercing: stats absent from the original game. He checked the weapon's specs, aimed it once.
Handcannon with two linked barrels. Produced in harsh conditions, but artisan skill overcomes many flaws.
Durability: 20/20 | Range: 3-4 | Attack Power: 180-200
Bonuses: Recoil +2, Piercing +1
"Not bad, huh?"
Lately Hendrick hurled insults, but he felt progress. The old man always acknowledged results, not process.
Unlike the clan, where desperate efforts changed nothing, here he felt alive. Now he got "do what you love—or must," but really: doing well made it fun.
Time flew.
Stranded just yesterday? Already autumn and winter passed.