Hank took half a look at the man. Blond head, well-trimmed thick facial hair, annoyingly charismatic smile, there was no mistaking it, he was the guy who was about to be swindled into the death pit of Anver's team the other day. It seemed that the guy took his advice and switched profession.

There was also that arm wrestling match where a young girl defeated that scumbag. His team laughed the loudest. It was the joy of Hank's day, but he did not think much about it. Anver hadn't been coming to the guild from that day. If it was Hank, he would start living in the well of Redshire too.

Something else was on his mind.

Most people were not as lucky as this guy, being able to get a different job. They usually came here because they had nowhere else to go. If Hank could count coins and be smart enough to work in a market that were full of profiteers, cheaters and oppressors, he would switch his profession in a heartbeat.

Mercenary guild was the corner where desperate people found themselves in. If someone had another road and still chose this as their destination, there must have been something wrong with their head.

[Is this guy also f*cked in the head? Or does he have other motives coming here?]

[One is not a merchant if he is retarded. I should be careful.]

Noticing something in Hank's long silence, the man took initiative to speak again.

"I had always been a merchant. I was accompanying my sister-in-law the other day, who wanted to join the guild. She had declined the recruitment thanks to your advice."

The corner of the man's mouth raised a bit.

"Did you like her performance afterward? She found the man despicable, so she challenged him to an arm wrestling match. He might not dare to ever show up here again."

Hank laughed loudly as he heard this. His fleeting suspicion was fading away. He slapped the man's shoulder. "I liked it very much! Give me words of praise to her, and if she has time, I would like to treat her to a mug of mead."

The man coughed. "Anyway, I would like to introduce our latest weapon to you. Would you care for a demonstration? It would be my honor to have you and your team witness the capability of our invention." He rubbed his shoulder as he said it.

[He looked strong, but isn't very tough, is he?] Hank thought in amusement.

"That is no problem. However," Hank half-unsheathed the sword on his waist, "don't try anything funny. I have a personal grudge with people who unfairly profit off others." Hank gritted his teeth in a threatening smile. "I have used up my patience for today."

The man did not stop his stupid grin for any moment, neither did he back off. He had guts, or he had confidence in what he was selling. It was probably a type of crossbow anyway, but Hank wouldn't mind something better for his team.

"Would it be good if we test the weapon outside the town? I'm afraid it is rather loud."

Hank's interest was piqued. A loud weapon was a major disadvantage against the beasts. But he had never heard of a loud crossbow before.

He sheathed his sword, a "clank" sound echoed in the hall. His teammates turned to look at him. Hank tilted his head toward the door and shook it, in a [Let's head out] command gesture.

***

"Would here be good? Test the weapon against that slime." Hank spoke to the man in a low voice.

Jack was still staring at the creature in silence.

In the Beast Forest, Jack had fought an unending stream of violent creatures. Those he could identify with the tiny source of light in his hand, resembled animals from Earth, some were extinct millennia ago.

He never thought much about it. His priority at the time was surviving. In the nerve-wracking darkness where hostiles were running all around him and constantly jumped at him from the conceal of vegetations, every firing neuron in his brain was concentrated on the dark energy manipulator.

He shuddered to imagine what would happen if he missed during the battle that stretched his limit to the very last possible margin. If one of the creatures got through the maze of pebbles flying through the air, he and Naomi would have been shredded to pieces.

He only thought of the creatures, and the animals in the town as being brought along with the humans to this strange planet. He assumed that the planet was a recreation of human civilization in the ancient time, for whatever reason, albeit with vibrant dark energy environment.

However, in front of him was a limus, a creature not from Earth. It was from Avidity, a galaxy in the Federation's territory.

Jack still remembered the basic characteristics of limi. They have inside-out stomach, their entire body is covered in digestive fluid. The outside of their body has a layer of symbiotic bacteria that keeps the shape of the creature. They can also command the bacteria to change their shape to a certain extent.

Their body is almost entirely translucent, except for the small black brain, which is their only kill spot. They can regenerate the rest if the brain survived.

The appearance of the creature once again made Jack question the mysteries of this planet. [How many creatures of the multiverses are there in this place? Are there other intelligent races apart from the human?] Jack silently thought.

"What are you waiting for? Are you pitying the slime?" Hank's laugh woke Jack up from his musing. "This thing is everywhere. Unless you're an infant, everybody knows that crossbows can't kill it. I don't believe you would be a master marksman who can hit its tiny core."

[If it's really a limus, it would be the last thing I'd ever pity.] Jack shook the thoughts out of his mind. [It's time for first impression.]

He unpacked the guns on his back, took out a gun from the cloth. It gleamed with blinding flare under the sun on top of their head.

Hank carefully observed the weapon. It was unlike anything he had seen before. A long, iron stick, wrapped in a wooden handle, with amazing craftsmanship. Every detail on it was sharp as a blade's edge. There were small, intricate parts that looked like they were not forged with a hammer, but molded to the will of the crafter.

Hank's opinion of the man instantly raised a notch. The thing on the man's hands wasn't a mismatched piece of counterfeit quickly put together to swindle money from unaware amateurs. It was a work of art that a noble would hang on their wall and proudly brag about it.

Jack took out two small pieces of cloth and inserted them into his ears. He then pressed on the latch on the handle, which allowed him to break open the weapon. A shell from his pocket was loaded into the chamber. He closed the weapon with a "click."

"Alexa, is that a limus?"

Jack mumbled, making sure no one else heard it.

"Affirmation, the creature is 'limus commune viridi' from the Limus branch, first found in the Avidity galaxy."

Jack grinned. [Let's test if you are really impervious to physical damage, damn masturbating lubricant.]

He still remembered when the repeating trouble-maker pilot Anton brought a limus onto the ship. The pest escaped, and that entire week the team had to scrub the ship of its corrosive fluid. Jack was so mad that the slime sneaked into the Captain's quarter, ruining his VR headset, along with his treasured collection of ancient action movies.

He took aim in a quick motion. All the time he had gamed in VR had given him adequate skill in handling firearms.

Cheek pressed on the stock, left hand holding the handguard in a light grip. Rifle's butt firmly on the shoulder. Elbows kept down and close to the body. Align the sight on the target.

"Plug your ears or stay back." Jack spoke loudly. He did not care to check if the mercenaries had listened to him. Some lessons are better taught by consequences.

Finally, finger on the trigger.

Fire and smoke flowed out of the barrel like an air stream from a volcano. Even with his impromptu ear protections, Jack still heard a loud explosive noise transferred through the rifle stock to his skull. A smoke screen stayed in front of his vision for a short moment, before it was blown away along with the leaves in the now strangely more silent forest.

Nothing remained of the 'slime' except for some wet spots of sticky fluid. The area where it used to be was ravaged. The patch of grass was broken and fluttering.

Jack had seen many types of more devastating rifles in the military movies of his modern world, but this was the first time he knew the power of black powder. The feel of no-recoil, non-explosive weapons in the games he played wasn't as good as shooting a traditional explosion-fueled gun. He immediately fell in love with this antique weapon.

He broke open the gun, taking out the percussion cap shell with his nail flicking the side of the barrel. The shell flew out, drawing a smoky line in the air. Jack quickly caught and pocketed it. He then turned toward the mercenaries behind him.

"What do you think, gentlemen? Wanna have a go?"