Chapter 3: Three – An Old Commission.

I left Luli to the pain of cultivation. The defensive arrays clicked back into effect when I slammed my front door closed. I adjusted the new badge that was pinned to my lapel. The weight of it was oddly uncomfortable despite its small size.

I had brought a few bars of iron with me, and I absorbed them as I walked. My qi topped off. The quality of the metal was only good enough to fill up my meridians. At this point in my cultivation, I would need quality steel bars to push up my cultivation. I winced at that thought. Correction if I could still push up my cultivation, I would need quality steel.

The lack of recognition in the eyes of the people around me made me oddly irritated. I knew why I had come back now. This was the only place I really had any sense of belonging in this world, or at least I used to. Before I left for the army people knew my face around here. Time had worn away my reputation to a legend rather than a genuine community member.

Now I was just another face. Any looks I got from the locals were directed at my military coat or badge. Half seemed to fear it while the other half seemed genuinely surprised that there was a Marshall in town.

Asani was one of those far-flung towns which had barely changed since the clockwork emperor came to power. The only real difference in these people’s lives was the train station that nobody ever used. They probably still made any kind of appeals to authority to the Sun Gate Sect. The de facto tyrants of the desert.

I had noticed that most people weren’t even using the standardized pressed spirt stones with the emperor’s face embossed into it. They were still using the rough unpressed spirit stones that had been the norm before his rule.

Old Chen’s workshop was not far from my place. Which was odd seeing as he ran the most profitable business in town. He was the only quality blacksmith within two train stops and even the Sects ordered weapons from him. Why he was even based in the Asani slums was a mystery people had long stopped trying to solve.

Old Chen had been old when I was a kid and as far as I could tell he had no cultivation. He should have died of old age by now but apparently, he was still alive and kicking.

As I approached, I heard the comforting clanging of metal on metal. Old Chen’s workshop had no shopfront for customers to enter through. Every customer of Old Chen’s knew that if they wanted to do business, they had to find the man in the back.

The workshop was a dictionary perfect example of organized chaos. Barrels of swords rested against rusting farm equipment. Tools and hammers lined the walls perfectly arranged and cleaned. An inexplicable smooth copper ball approximately a meter in diameter sat in the middle of pile of barbed wire.

I saw Old Chen stooped over an anvil and banging away at a delicate link of chain. It seemed to be the last link two-meter-long length. The chain was so delicate it looked closer in width to a string than anything else.

I sat down on an abnormally large breastplate and watched Old Chen work. When he had finally worked the metal joint of the chain link into its proper shape, he picked up the whole thing and dumped it into a vat of some boiling Qi rich mixture.

“What in the heavens are you doing smoking spirit herbs like that boy? Did the army cook your brains or something?” said Old Chen falling back into their old joking tone as if I had never left.

“It better than chewing them all day like a cow. Doctors’ orders old man you wouldn’t stop a poor cripple from taking his medicine would?” I spat back before taking an exaggerated large puff.

Old Chen looked a bit serious and scrutinized me in a way that felt like he was looking through me. I still felt no qi fluctuations from him, but he had to be seeing something. Old Chen looked shocked for a second and then he burst out laughing.

“The universe finally left you know that all this ‘I am only in it for myself’ shtick is not for you,” gasped Old Chen between shaking breaths

I glared at him, “I knew your whole mortal vibe must be an act. How can you see my dao?”

Old Chen rolled his eyes and while he pulled out the fine chain from the vat with a pair of tongs. The metal had turned pure white, and it sparkled a little. I noticed that affixed on one end was a sickle blade. This must be one of Old Chen’s more exotic custom weapon orders.

“I cannot see your dao. I can see that your cultivation is stagnating right before you are supposed to be reaching the golden core stage. The only reason that would be happening is if you are fighting against your dao like an idiot. What is it, the dao of charity, the dao of selflessness?”

I noticed that he did not address that he clearly had some form of cultivation if he could pick that up, so I let it drop. “The dao of justice,” I mumbled.

Old Chen started laughing again and he worked the sickle blade against a whetstone. “Oh, you poor cynical bastard,” he said with a chuckle, “that must have hit you like a ton of bricks.”

I winced as I remembered the feeling of my core shattering while it was forming in my dantian. My heart demon shattering apart my forming intent. “yeah, no shit. Getting a fictional concept as a dao set me back a bit.”

Old Chen paused his sharpening to give me another once over. This time he away only observing my haggard appearance. I hadn’t shaved in days and the grey hairs at my temples spoke volumes. His eyes lingered on my new Marshall badge.

“There is no fictional dao. The great Dao encompasses all things and every personal dao is merely a path to the great Dao,” Old Chen intoned quoting every cultivation 101 handbook ever written.

I deliberately strengthened my lungs with a bit of Qi and blew out a plum of smoke long enough to hit the Old Man in the face. He coughed and waved away the fumes, “fuck I get it,” spluttered Old Chen, “you’re sulking because the world sucks but whatever heart demon you are wrestling with is a misunderstanding. Meaning in life something you have to fight for it is not just handed to you. If you do not see any justice in the world create it! All you need to do I get out of your own way you moron.”

I gave Old Chen a sceptical look but shrugged, saying, “I bow to your experience old timer. Great speech, it still doesn’t really help me.”

Old Chen threw up his hands and spat, “forget it. Figure it out for yourself you are long past the days when I had to babysit you. Maybe your new duties as Marshall will lead you to an answer. Now that we are done with the philosophy, we can do business. Your order is finally finished.”

I blinked and parroted back, “my order?”

Old Chen swept aside some odds and end before pulling out a polished wooden case. He grunted and said with a clearly pleased voice, “yes, the order you placed before you left. I finally managed to make a gun that is worth a damn in a fight between cultivators.”

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Old Chen swung open the case and inside was a work of art. A single-action colt 45. The only difference from a normal gun I could see from its external appearance was that Old Chen had worked some elaborate scroll work down the barrel.

I had always wanted to own a single action colt back on earth. It evoked fantasies of cowboys and shootouts. Guns were not unknown to this world. They were just looked down on and with good reason. A normal bullet would do nothing to a cultivator who had any qi in their bodies. The speeding metal might as well be made of rubber. Higher level cultivators could also dodge bullets. Guns were only useful in crowd control against mortals. They were a peasant weapons. Every cultivator worth their salt would not be caught dead using one.

“I ordered this when I was about six,” I said in disbelief, “I didn’t even know that guns weren’t useful back then.”

Old Chen ignored me as he stroked the handle lovingly, “At first, I could not work out why you wanted the firing mechanism to be single action. It would be so easy to set up the hammer to fire again automatically. The I tried shooting it a few times and I worked it out. Drawing back the hammer personally every time focuses your intent.”

I waved a hand in front of his face and exclaimed, “Chen, are you mad? I don’t need a gun I thought would be a good idea when I was a kid. I can shoot metal qi out of my fingers now.”

Old Chen scowled at me and shoved the gun in my direction, “just try it. It will suit you.”

I shrugged and picked up the gun. I could immediately feel that this was not a normal gun. As soon as I touched it, I could sense a network of meridian-like channels running through the metal and the wood of the handle.

I sent a pulse of Qi through my hand and the gun drank the Qi like water. Continuing to pour in Qi I was amazed to discover the Qi making its way to one of the chambers and solidifying into a bullet.

With my naked eyes I saw a bullet shaped crystal appear in the chamber. I flicked open the wheel and let the bullet-crystal fall into my hand. It was metallic in colour but defiantly made of solid Qi.

I looked up to see a smiling Old Chen. Unprompted he explained, “I made it out of living-metal. It’s rare stuff but it has natural meridians running through it. It took some experimentation, but I worked out a few arrays that will harden Qi. It hit like a mountain falling on you.”

 I reloaded the bullet and channelled five more to fill up the wheel slots. I snapped the wheel closed and sighted down the barrel. The pistol used the same style of iron sights I was used to.

Old Chen beckoned me over to a training post. The post was made out of a type of self-healing stone that cultivators used to train with weapons. “Give it a go,” said Old Chen with a knowing smile.

Judging by the colour of this post it was designed to emulate a peak energy focusing cultivator. I stood five meters way from the post and let my old cop training take over as I adopted a proper firing stance.

As soon as I pulled back the hammer, I felt the focusing of my intent that Chen had been speaking about. Intent was never a tool I had been much good with. Weapon cultivators like sword cultivators used intent to sharpen their attacks and heighten their senses. I had never experienced anything but a mild spear intent in my years in the arm.

That all change as the world seemed to slow around me. I fell into a king of focused trance as the hammer finished arming itself under my thumb. It was just me and the training post. I raised the colt and pulled the trigger in one smooth motion. As soon as the bullet was fired the trance broke and I heard a series of pinging sounds.

The bullet had drilled a hole clear through the post, the chainmail that was behind it and buried itself in the wall of Old Chen’s workshop.

I drew in a deep breath and whispered, “damn.”

Old Chen smiled knowingly at me, “alternatively you can load the chambers with real bullets. He lifted the lining of the gun case to show a compartment underneath. There were twelve slots for bullets, six of which were occupied. Old Chen took one out to show me. He warned, “don’t think about testing these in here. They explode on impact. I have filled them with an explosive gel. They are pricy so don’t use them all up without a good reason.

At the mention of price, I sobered a little and tentatively asked, “and how much did we agree I would pay you for this commission?”

Old Chen grinned, “now that you mention it we did not agree upon a fixed price at the time.”

I gulped. I did not have many spirit stones on hand at the moment. I had spent most of my last army pay on spirit herbs to keep me supplied for a few months.

Old Chen winked and let me off the hook, “don’t sweat it. Consider it a favour for taking on Luli as an apprentice.”

I asked in bafflement, “how did you know I agreed to train her?”

Old Chen went back to sharpening the sickle blade and said, “because I know you and you would not leave a girl like that to the wolves. Now get out.”

I scooped up the gun chase and left. I looked a bit ridiculous holding the colt in my hands with the case under one arm. Not exactly action ready.

The was a leather worker next door to Old Chens shop so I stopped in to order a sling and ammo belt. The guy who ran the shop was clearly confused but I managed to make what I wanted in a few hours.

I now had my newly acquired gun holstered just under my left arm. The holster was underneath my coat to the gun could only be seen by a careful observer. More conspicuous was the ammo belt around my hips. It too had twelve slots with six full of the explosive rounds.

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