The problem with setting up any illegal deal is that often enough, you won't know who or what you'll end up dealing with. This makes setting the scene important in making an impression on your customers along with whatever potential muscle they bring. This problem is magnified for games as a first impression rarely makes much of a difference in business.

It was for this reason I hadn't bought anything extra to help me look professional. This also made cleaning different sections of the warehouse a bit of a pain. Rusted equipment had been left behind, tables were rotted by age, and graffiti was everywhere, juvenile and faded gang signs alike.

The only way to make an impression on my own was to not only look confident, but also show that I was more than willing to use the weapons I was showing off.

Once I'd finally cleared out enough space inside a deactivated freezer and dragged in one of the tables that could still hold weight, I began inspecting each of my own guns to ensure that I knew at least a little bit about them other than their total selling price.

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Recycler Rifle

"Not as powerful as your average rifle, but which would you rather have an in extended firefight? Less power, or less ammo?"

White Energy Firearm

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That told me nothing about what I was dealing with, though I did take it a step further by pulling the bolt back just enough so as to not charge an actual shot. From what I could see the gun ran on some type of energy exchange which was connected to the bolt, which would only charge a single round each time the bolt was pulled back, eliminating the need to ever reload. The end of the barrel looked more like a muzzle brake than anything else, though I had no idea why an energy weapon might need one of those unless the action of firing had some measure of recoil. I moved onto the pistols, placing the rifle back in the duffle bag, intending to keep it for the moment instead of selling it.

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Echelon P850

"From personal defence to military engagements, Echelon is the company to choose."

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SImilar to the submachine gun bearing the same company name, the P850 had a very angular slide running from the hammer to the barrel, a thin triangle at the front and glowing iron sights at the back. It was fairly compact and the grip made of a much tougher plastic polymer than the stock of the Blackout, feeling both light and comfortable in the palm of my hand, though with its small size I doubted it could hold many rounds. I'd just market it as a concealed weapon, thinking of all the spy movies I'd watched as a kid.

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PDM Hornet

"When someone attacks you, this weapon will defend you as a hive protects its queen."

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The next gun I pulled out of the bag was heavier, the almost silver barrel far longer than the P850, a solid block of steel surrounding the large caliber barrel. The ejection port seemed to have been made to eject shells downward in front of the trigger guard, the slide being an interior part instead of an exterior one. The magazine it had was definitely designed to hold large caliber pistol rounds, though only a few they would be. It could probably punch right through basic armor, so I'd try to sell it for a bit more than it was worth.

The last gun I checked out was the other usable Cobra that had been in the evidence room. Knowing more than enough about it, I simply put it back in the bag after ensuring that everything functioned properly.

Checking through the forums again, I wondered how I would phrase my advertisement. If I showed too much, I might invite the guilds that were blockading the city to show up instead of a buyer. If I showed too little, I'd be left sitting against a wall for hours on end with no progress in sight. Each gun had its own unique qualities that could interest buyers. The Blackout was the big ticket item, so I couldn't bother showing that off as it would be a fairly recognizable firearm at the moment.

I set out the three handguns again, looking at each one in turn. The Cobra was a nice starter weapon, but looking at it gave me the feeling of a poor man's firearm, while looking at the Hornet felt like overkill. The P850 on the other hand settled more towards the size of the Cobra, but looked far more professional. I'd have to boost its image a bit in order to gain attention.

I began muttering to myself as I paced around the freezer, candles lit to dimly light up the room. "More guns would attract more attention, but potentially more danger. Keep in mind as a backup. Clothes aren't needed, though armor would only be recognized by professionals or those seeking a full set of equipment, not a bulk sale. Not an option. Bullets are too dangerous for me as a seller. Can't include them or I run the risk of getting shot with my own gun. No, bad idea. No weapons, armor, or ammunition included, reputation not worth anything, need alternatives." Thoughts and ideas whirled through my brain like a tornado, either being snapped up and discarded or rejected outright. "Wait, bribe worked with the guard to get me inside, possible monetary incentive though not necessarily included. Yes, money will work."

I twirled around to face the table, pulling various credit sticks out of my account valued in the hundreds. I had credit sticks of tin, silver, and gold. Each of them were arranged on the table somewhat haphazardly, though it didn't look very good along with the gun. I moved them around a bit so that they were set up in a neat pile. This however made it seem like the money wasn't worth as much as it actually was.

I huffed once, changing out the tin and silver credits for an extra two gold colored ones, spreading them out just to the right of the gun, the frame of the image having to be a bit smaller. It was still missing something though, so I grabbed the duffle bag, dragging it over. It was a nice touch, but still lacked that little extra impact.

I unzipped it just enough to show the rest of the guns inside, showing off the barrel of the Recycler Rifle and the two other handguns just out of view. This perfected the shot, giving off a feeling of wealth and power.

I opened up a map of the city from my menu after taking a screenshot of the warehouse I was at, marking the coordinates down in the draft of my post. Then I began typing up the advertisement itself, adding in the thumbnail I'd just put together.

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Selling an order of firearms

Should any guild, player, or team of players need weapons, (Ammunition excluded, buy separately from NPC stores.) I am prepared to sell some of my recent findings from an excursion to what is known as the Ruined Zone. I am not affiliated with any of the guilds, though I am selective in who I choose to sell to. Should you wish to purchase these weapons, leave a comment stating how much money you can bring, and wait for me to contact you via the forums private messaging function with the location. Once done, you will have one hour to arrive before I relocate and choose another customer to present the weapons to. -Keldath

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I saved the post without publishing it so that I could get everything ready and have it all waiting for when I was ready to begin. I still had at least two hours before I would log out for the night and I was hoping to have everything sold by then. Grabbing everything I and sweeping it all back into the bags, I went out to buy a bit more ammunition for my revolver just in case things went wrong.

Buying bullets on their own wasn't illegal in the slightest as it turned out. I was even able to get a full three boxes of pistol rounds after ensuring they would work with my Cobra. I also bought a single speed loader, the item always having seemed fairly cool yet practical. I got a few suspicious looks from the NPC shop owner, but I ended up leaving before they said anything, having paid just thirty credits in total.

When I got back to the warehouse I noticed some thugs loitering around the area, openly wielding pipes and nailed baseball bats. I ended up hanging out in an empty alley while waiting for them to leave, content to revise my advertisement a bit while watching out for them, posting it a minute after I managed to get inside.

Before setting the guns up on the table I dragged it to the back of the freezer, leaving the duffle bag off to the side. The guns were laid out in ascending order of value, from the rusted Cobra on the far left to the Echelon Blackout on the far right.

The Recycler Rifle stayed in the bag, remaining there in the event that things got a little rough and I had to shoot someone. After setting everything up just the way I wanted I dragged over a few rotting planks of wood to sit on, waiting for comments to show up. I also took the time to figure out how my new speed loader worked, and put some fresh rounds into my revolver. The first comment arrived just as I finished up.

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You're the guy that started the riots! The Lion's Mane guild will pay up to a thousand credits for the whereabouts of Keldath!

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I couldn't stop myself from laughing before I decided to reply, trying to remain as professional as possible.

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The Lion's Mane guild is welcome to try and find me. Your blockades however are not welcome. Consider you and your guild blacklisted. -Keldath

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Flame wars were always fun so long as it didn't devolve into people simply calling each other bad names. At that point the banter and wordplay just became painful to participate in, so I blocked him from posting in the thread further, other comments turning into memes while some included both money and affiliations. Some even looked genuine.

Actually selecting someone to sell to was a difficult process borne of my own hypervigilance. I repeatedly had to ask for proof of identity of those I was debating on, finally settling after thirty minutes of non-stop work. It was a woman representing a smaller guild by the name of The Black Cats.

In order to buy from me they had pooled all of their money, providing proof of identity by sending a group photo of several people, all goofing around. The woman's player name was JelloBelly and she was bringing a friend of hers called CultivationMania, who I abbreviated to CM.

It didn't take long for them to arrive, the freezer door opening as I attempted to put on my best salesman face.

Here's hoping my voice works enough for this.