Chapter 2: Purchasing Twin Guns

In a certain grocery store in Hell's Kitchen, Edward pushed open the door. As the bell rang, an old man wearing a white apron and knitting a sweater looked up and said, "Customer, what do you need?"

"Hey, Old man, it's me," Edward greeted.

Hearing Edward's voice, the old man looked up.

"Hmph, Edward Lee, why are you here? You're not welcome!" the old man snorted coldly.

"Old man, did I really make you that angry just by taking a few of your customers?" Edward responded.

"A few? You call that a few!" The old man stood up and roared.

"Don't get angry, it's bad for your health at your age. You might stroke a stroke. But I'm here to make it up to you."

"Speak up, what do you want this time?"

"Hey, don't make it sound like I'm the bad guy. This time, I'm here to recommend some business to you. I remember you have two modified Remington 1875 revolvers here, right? Are you selling them?"

Jack frowned and stared at Edward. "These things aren't cheap."

"No problem, I brought money, but I need to see the goods first."

Jack looked at the ten bundles of cash Edward placed on the table. He silently walked to the storage room. After a while, he returned with a wooden box, placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside were two silver Remington 1875 modified revolvers.

Edward picked one up and inspected it. The revolver maintained the appearance of a Remington 1875, but its cylinder had been modified to swing out, allowing for rapid fire without cocking the hammer. This heavily modified Remington 1875 revolver had been sitting in Jack's shop for a long time without a buyer. Enthusiasts considered such modifications an insult, while those who disliked the design had no reason to purchase it.

However, with his Gunslinger legacy, Edward found these modifications suited his reloading style perfectly, prompting him to buy these guns.

"The material of these guns includes very rare metals, making them completely bulletproof, so this money isn't enough," Jack said, snatching the gun back from Edward and returning it to the box.

"Come on, that's all the money I have right now. Once I finish this job, I'll pay the remaining amount. How about that?"

"Alright, take them," Jack pushed the box forward and took the ten bundles of cash from the table.

"By the way, pal, I'm out of money. Could you throw in some bullets?"

Jack rolled his eyes but still pulled out five boxes of suitable bullets from under the table, each containing thirty rounds. A total of one hundred and fifty bullets, more than enough.

Next, Edward visited a tailor shop and had them make a special ammunition belt according to his specifications, also on credit.

Back at the agency, Edward carefully loaded the bullets into the belt and strapped it on. He stored the remaining bullets in his storage bag, along with some bottled water and food. Once everything was ready, he opened the system interface, found the commission tab, and pressed the teleport button. Instantly, he was transported to the Afghan desert.

"Damn, I should have brought a sunhat. This sun is unbearable," Edward muttered, looking up at the cloudless sky and the blazing sun.

"System, did you teleport me to the wrong place? I don't see any caves around here."

[Host, the teleportation only brings you to the commission location, not directly to the commission target. It's meant to save you travel time,] the system explained.

So, Edward still had to find Tony Stark's hideout on his own.

Walking through the desert, Edward grew increasingly irritated at the endless expanse of sand. Suddenly, he spotted a truck in the distance, filled with men wearing white cloths on their heads and holding AK-47s.

"Finally, some signs of life. They look like a local warlord's henchman. Whatever, let's deal with them first," Edward said, drawing his gun and aiming at their tires.

With a single shot, he blew out two tires, causing the truck to veer out of control. The truck crashed into the sand, flipping over. Luckily for the passengers, the sand cushioned the impact, leaving them with only minor scrapes.

As they climbed out, brandishing their guns and searching for the culprit, Edward made his move.

"Hello, are you looking for me?" He called out, perched on the overturned truck.

The group spotted him and were about to open fire when one of them stepped forward and stopped them.

"Who are you?" the man asked in broken some other language.

Edward was taken aback. He had expected them to speak English, but this man speaking Chinese was a surprise.

"Wow, you can speak another language? Interesting. Which organization do you belong to? The Ten Rings? The Taliban? Or the government forces?"

"We are with the government forces. We have received assistance from different countries, so I know a little bit of many. May I ask why you shot at us?" the Afghan man asked.

"Sorry about that. I just wanted to ask you a few questions but was afraid you might be terrorists, so I had to take precautions," Edward replied, his hand still resting on the gun's grip, indicating his continued wariness.

"What do you want to ask?"

"Do you know where the Ten Rings' base is?"

"The Ten Rings?"

"Yes, their emblem is ten rings linked in a circle. Do you know it?"

At this point, another government soldier whispered something into the man's ear. The soldier then said, "We have a map that shows the general areas controlled by various groups. You can check it yourself."

He pulled out a map and tossed it to Edward, who caught it deftly. "Thanks. Sorry about your tires. Behind that big rock, I've left some supplies for you as an apology."

With that, Edward departed with the map. The government soldier quickly led his men to the rock and found several crates of bottled water, canned fruit, and meat. For them, these supplies were a welcome feast.

Meanwhile, Edward realized that his current location was tricky. He had to cross Taliban territory to reach the Ten Rings' base. Undeterred, he "borrowed" a Taliban jeep and drove through the night towards the Ten Rings' territory.