Cameraman Never Dies

Judge and the tall man met their eyes, he felt a slight chill from that single silvery-red eye. The man hesitated for a moment before replying, "I am called Saphiel."

"Saphiel," Judge repeated, muttering to himself as if tasting the name. "That's a nice name, but it reminds me of someone."

"Who?" Saphiel's tone was somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Personal matters, treat it as if I have never said anything." He smiled at the tall man, seemingly forgetting that he was wearing a mask that was always smiling— but creepily though. "Just... think of it as a momentary lapse in manners."

Before they could dive further into that mystery, Norris entered, balancing a stack of heavy boxes and looking like a precarious tower of armory. "Sorry for the wait, lads. Here are the revolvers, and a few pistols too. Quite the selection if I do say so myself!"

Norris began his grand tour, opening the boxes with the pride of a magician revealing his best trick. "These two beauties, are new arrivals, capable of doing both ether and gunpowder, it is strong as well as conductive."

He touched the pistol, it had a black grip and an iron body, along with golden-colored inlays and patterns. "This is the golden eagle, a revolutionary model capable of using either ether or gunpowder for some good ol' monster skull-shattering firepower."

"And this one," He touched the revolver with a brown leather handle and an iron body with different golden inlays and patterns. "This is the Vanguard 22, the latest and improved model of the Vanguard series. Capable of shooting long distances without losing the force. A real beauty, I tell ya."

Judge did not think much, he picked up the Golden Eagle, hefting it like a seasoned pro. "Not bad. Holds, what, 20 rounds? Reminds me of an old friend, the Glock 17—though this beats it by a mile. Except in concealment. That friend was much better at keeping things… low profile."

"Er... a Glock?" Norris asked, looking like he'd been asked to explain the mysteries of the universe. "Never heard of it."

Judge smiled beneath his mask, enjoying Norris's bewilderment. "Forget it. Ancient history. But, listen," he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. "Any 'enhanced' pistols around?"

Norris looked at Judge like he'd just asked for a weapon from another dimension. "Enhanced pistols?" he repeated, as if he was testing whether the words made any sense together. He looked at Judge with doubtful eyes, he had never heard the term 'enhanced pistols' despite having an experience of more than a decade.

Judge smiled beneath his mask, this worker would surely not know anything about an enhanced pistol. He knew that very well, enhanced pistols are something made with the help of runes, and it was not even popular among dragons. But he had heard that it was available in Wistmere since many dragons there use guns instead of swords like most dragons in the land of dragons.

The reason he said that was just to get the attention of the man near him— or the woman dressed as a man. As she knew things about dragons, she was sure to have heard about enhanced pistols and runes.

"Oh sorry!" He gave a self-deprecating laugh, putting Norris at ease, "I will just take this as a dual-wield, how much?"

"Erm… alright then," Norris heaved a sigh of relief, the tension that had been building in the silence vanished, "It would be 55 sten a piece sir."

55 sten! Judge was surprised by the amount, Well, that's only... the price of a small cottage. No problem.

But it was normal since this was a customized high-performance pistol with a whopping 20-round magazine. He knew very well that an engraved or enhanced gun would cost him more than a hundred sten, it would cost more if it was an antique collector's item, which would be more than 200 sten.

Without haggling on the price, he moved his gaze towards the case that was filled with non-steam model rifles. "I will take two golden eagles. now for the rifles, I need something that can travel really long distances, something that could take down a wild boar at, oh, a mile or two away?, can I custom order?"

"Sire there are rifles that can be used from a long distance, but a mile is a pretty long distance to travel in a straight line." Norris explained, "But if you are looking for something in particular, then it is possible to custom order, but it will take at least a week to finish."

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Judge nodded, listening attentively. "Ok, I will take that, so for now," He took a polished, wood-finished rifle, admiring its craftsmanship. "I will take this beauty, I need ammunition for both of them... No, three of them. Heh."

"Right away sir. That rifle is called the 'Wooden Crow', a fine work if I say so myself. It would be 80 sten, totaling 190 sten without counting the ammunition." Norris clasped his hands, ready for some bargaining, that was expected of mercenaries.

Judge nodded, and without much action, he pulled out his purse and counted twenty notes of ten stens. "Gimme pistol rounds for seven sten and rifle bullets for three, ether infused, of course."

"Right away sir," Norris was surprised, it was a rare sight to see mercenaries who did not try to bargain about the price. He took two iron cases that could hold thirty pistol rounds and filled one with twenty bullets and the other with fifteen. He then took another bigger iron case and filled it with twelve rifle bullets.

The cases were all put on the cashier's table and Norris took the two pistols that Judge bought as well as the rifle and inserted them with full magazines. "This one is on the house!" He announced.

"I must thank you then," Judge said in a cold but unhostile tone. A tone so flat it was impossible to tell if he was grateful or just amused.

—

Judge and Saphiel were both headed deep into the forest, they left the city a long time ago. The silence was serene and peaceful, none of them uttered a word.

"How do you know about enhanced pistols?" Saphiel finally asked.

"Guess," Judge answered indifferently. He could feel the angry pressure being built up, but he did not care.

"You better tell me if you do not like a beating." Saphiel did not hide his(her) anger.

"Alright, I will tell you after this hunt is over, is that acceptable?" Judge clearly remembered when they had first met, they ended up clashing and the aftermath was something he did not want to go through again.

"Just answer me this, Are you a wyvern?"

"Answer my question first," he turned to him a bit seriously, "and I will tell you about my race and how I got to know about enhanced pistols and about how I know how to "make" it, you know, with the runes and stuff."

The "runes" was enough to get his(her) attention, but before they could continue their exchange, there was a presence near them that kept itself hidden, a predator.

Judge quickly drew his long pistol, it was long enough to be called a short shotgun... or a long pistol, or a short rifle— anyways it was a long-barrelled pistol. He had two of them, the golden eagles.

He was itching to see them in action. Saphiel just stood still without any movement. As per Judge's agreement with the mercenary guild— as this was a test, he would not help him unless the situation was serious, which would make Judge lose the test.

Judge drew a single pistol with a flick, "This one's mine." He said just in case Saphiel joined the hunt saying that they only had a deal of not intervening in the fight against the Shroud Grasper.

Saphiel on the other hand, nodded at him tersely. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was humoring Judge. But his eyes were full of curiosity as to how this young man would fight.

The predator clearly was not going to wait around until they finished their exchange, it leaped at Judge who was the closest.

"A bit impatient aren't ya." Judge quipped as he sidestepped slightly to avoid the animal, the sidestep was insultingly light. The fox... no wolf... hyena... the nimble predator lunged at Judge again. Who sidestepped again, but he raised his gun and shot its flank, obliterating its stomach altogether.@@novelbin@@

Judge looked at it with a srcastic face, "Wow that was a bit too powerful, why is there no license for these portable cannons?"

Saphiel seemed unbothered, but he was caught up on one word, "License?"

"you know, like those permits you need to drive a cloud weaver and do some other stuff," He said as he inched closer to the corpse, "This one's really dangerous."

"That's because most do not buy specially crafted weapons," Saphiel also walked closer, "and among the rare people who did, only a small percentage could handle the recoil, and you are one."