Bamboo Generals and Twin Cannons
The Bamboo General on this uninhabited island was like a modern shotgun, scattering shot for wide-area effect. Just... way weaker. A lot weaker. So I had to fire it at point-blank range, which meant closing in on those bastards and tussling up close—not exactly risk-free. But now it felt manageable, even thrilling. Dopamine surged, keeping me from shrinking back as I dove into the frenzy.
Bang!
“Eek!”
The last Bamboo General of the final wave fulfilled its duty, its barrel ripping apart in destruction. Staring down at the charred bamboo shards scattered on the ground, I felt a pang of sorrow—like comrades who'd shared the crisis had all vanished. But it was time to wrap this journey. I drew my rusted cutlass.
Whoosh, whoosh. Swinging the ill-fitting bludgeon a few times to loosen up.
The final monster charged in sync with my movements. I'd faced this before—skillfully deflected its attack and smashed the club down on its head.
Splat!
Stat correction applied.
Power reduced by 60%.
After witnessing the absurd firepower earlier, this already pathetic attack felt downright trivial.
Tsking at the dull impact, I hammered away relentlessly. Thanks to the Bamboo Generals, I'd preserved my stamina perfectly, so finishing off the last one was no sweat. Squeezing out every ounce of strength, I bashed its head until, after three or four solid hits, it spewed black blood everywhere and collapsed dead.
[Beasts of the Classic of Mountains and Seas 1]
🎁 Reward: Helper ‘Hendrick’s activity radius expanded.
The mechanical chime announced the quest clear, but it barely registered—one ear in, one ear out. My mind was crammed with something far more pressing.
Potential.
I want revenge. But I can't. My abilities fall short. Simple logic, undeniable truth. How do you take down beings who soar through the skies, unleash sword winds, and shrug off blades against bare skin without a scratch? Rational as hell.
But after experiencing the Bamboo General’s firepower firsthand... maybe it was possible.
Nothing fills ability gaps faster than gear. Item power—temppal. I'd seen movies and anime about it: modern guns dominating past eras or other worlds. Why not in a murim setting? A gunslinger in a wuxia world.
If even the crappiest weapon like the Bamboo General did this... what if I could recreate modern tech here?
I didn't know yet. But the impossible—revenge once deemed a pipe dream—now felt tangible. Just imagining it set my body trembling with excitement.
“...That changes everything.”
[What did you just say?]
“Ah, nothing.”
I hadn't meekly taken the Peng Family's abuse because I liked it. Reality left no choice but compromise and submission.
But a new card in hand? Game changer.
“Alright, let's do this.”
Clear the hidden opportunity fast, start revenge slow—from what I could manage. Sensing possibility sharpened my goals and resolve naturally.
Hendrick's expanded activity radius didn't revolutionize anything overnight. It just meant slightly fewer encounters, sparing my ears a bit. And now I could smith on the beach instead of the deck—biggest change, really.
[Check if you've gathered all materials. Realize mid-process you're missing one? You'll cry—everything's wasted. Try that hellish experience if you want, or double-check!]
Unlike the fire-banned deck, the beach allowed anything. No freak accidents here.
[Move it carefully! Sturdy or not, a bend inside makes smithing a nightmare!]
Hendrick ordered the forge from the hull—wooden ship with a furnace aboard? Makes sense for long voyages. Practicality over actual use.
A compact, portable design—not assembled, easy to tote. "Easy" meaning four burly men normally. But I hefted it solo, with room for tools. Hendrick's shocked face? Priceless.
[Knew you were strong, but this insane?]
Even Hendrick, weathered Spanish sailor who'd seen it all, was floored.
[Sucks at swordplay, but what a beast in strength. Middle Kingdom—cough—er, are all Goryeo folk like this?]
Praise without the digs? Why poke sore spots? Effort's fine, but don't slam innate traits, someone said. Tempted to call him out, but this era's folk wouldn't get it. Let it slide.
Losers bend.
Brushed off the sting, dug a pit, set the forge. Added bellows, anvil, fuel beside it. Bamboo shelves for hammers and tools—luxurious for a deserted island.
[Coal's best for steady heat, but charcoal substitutes fine in a pinch.]
Top-notch smith as mentor? Now it hinged on my effort and how far guns would carry in murim.
“Shall we start?”
Days: Dismantle the wreck bit by bit, scour the island for materials.
Nights: Train or smith with hammer and tongs.
Utterly reversed from family days—no pressure or tension.
Just free, fun pursuit of my goals, living each day fully.
[Agh, 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!]
“Agh, got it. Detail, de-tail! Happy?”
Thought I was progressing fine. Early on, pure praise—Heavenly Mechanism Star vibes? Lately, though, nonstop roasting from the flipped old man.
High-level player babying the newbie? Now that I seemed committed, full throttle.
Logically, better for growth. Emotionally? Kinda hurtful.
◈ Durability: 20/20
◈ Range: 3-4
◈ Attack Power: 180-200
◈ Modifiers: Recoil +2, Penetration +1
Heavenly Mechanism Star's talent infuses the tool.
Wear conditions more complex (Recoil +2).
Performance greatly enhanced (Penetration +1).
That alien narration hit during Hendrick-guided crafting—now so frequent, the voice felt familiar. Recoil, penetration: stats absent from the original game.
Aimed the finished piece.
Twin Cannon Assembly (Superior Grade)
Two barrels fused into a hand cannon. Produced in harsh conditions, but artisan hands ironed out flaws.
“Not bad.”
Lately taking flak from Hendrick, but damn, progress felt real.
He ragged on process, praised product. Unlike the family, where desperation changed zilch—this was living.
Now I got it: Do what you're good at—must do. 'Cause it's fun when you nail it.
Time flew here.
Felt like yesterday I washed up—already autumn and winter gone.