The next several deals went smoothly, both AZTea and I working for a full week to accrue enough credits to afford a better workspace. Guns became more commonplace during this time, forcing us to sell to guilds that were just starting out so that they could compete with everyone else. With five thousand credits saved up I managed to get a hold of a larger storage shed in the south-west part of town. Guards actually patrolled the streets there, NPCs didn't look at you with outright hostility, and I didn't have to flash my gun every now and then.

The workbench and locker were moved to the new storage shed, one which had an actual light switch that worked. I hadn't realized how much I actually missed such a thing when working, flipping it on and off a few times. While it all looked similar to the first shed, the lights weren't exposed or hanging from wires. The only other difference was that it didn't smell like citrus, vanilla, or sawdust.

I had bought two extra lockers for whatever guns we would produce now that Slapdash Rifles weren't cutting it, along with two more machines to help manufacture the higher quality weapons. One was a portable boring machine while the other was used to cut metal into various parts. I'd even bought some metal folding chairs for both me and AZTea to use, along with a basic sound system which turned out to be capable of playing music from different websites. All of this had cost around thirty five hundred credits to purchase, leaving me with roughly fifteen hundred for the necessary supplies.

When she finally saw the place, AZTea spun around several times with her arms outstretched. She had bought a fur lined jacket along with a pair of baggy jeans and running shoes, though her hat remained untouched. There was also a bit of candy sticking out from the jacket pockets she had so proudly displayed when she had bought it all. "It's so much bigger than the last one, and it has working lights!" Wait, since we have more room, could I bring someone else I know to join us? I know him really well and I promise he'll be a good fit!"

Her request surprised me at first, though when I thought about it I figured it was perfectly reasonable to do so, since there were multiple steps to what would be happening in here, from boring through metal for gun barrels, to cutting out specific parts of the weapons, to full assembly at the workbench.

"Sure, you can bring him on, but I hope you know that it'll be your job to help them get up to speed while I figure out where to go from here, and familiarize myself with the equipment." She nodded giddily before logging off to presumably go tell her friend, and I turned to survey everything I'd bought so far.

"If only we had a Fabricator. Take out the manual labor portion of all this." I checked out the boring machine first, finding that it was simplified to a point that even a novice like me could operate it. All I had to do was slot in whatever I was working with, then pull the lever slowly so that the drill would come down. There were also several interchangeable drill bits that could be used, including the specialized bit I was hoping for, that were used for what was called broached rifling. All this meant was that the drill went all the way through on the first pass.

The cutting machine was a bit more complicated however, with an attached terminal and a digital drawing board with which someone could draw out a 2D or 3D model of the part they needed. From there a metal sheet or block would be placed on a platform to the right, where a jet of water would carve the part you were after automatically, plastic walls surrounding the platform to catch any excess water to be reused.

I couldn't draw the parts very well unless I went slowly, but this was remedied by the machine being able to save various designs for later use and modification. I wondered if AZTea's friend would be an artist by trade, as that would save a lot of time and effort.

Once I finished becoming familiar with how each of the machines worked, I sat down on one of the folding chairs next to the workbench and took the time to just breathe, closing my eyes and enjoying the moment. There was no sound of conversation outside, so I was left alone in relative silence while both machines hummed with electricity.

Once we'd made enough money we'd be able to upgrade to an actual workshop, with more than enough space for all the machinery we were working with. From there I'd be able to start work on something to bring down the ship that attacked the tutorial players, as nobody was actively challenging the damn thing.

Apparently it only attacked every now and then, but every time it did players were killed long before they could even register what was going on. Some were angry, though others were thrilled with the experience, especially now that they could leave the safety of Bastion's walls to go and scavenge for their fortune.

Some remained in the city, picking up jobs ranging from cooking to construction, along with things like farming and chemistry. With resources were scarce inside Bastion, most players were choosing to try and build on the outside of the city, using the pine trees from the forest as lumber. Even the guilds were joining in, building bases of operation outside town so that their people could have places to lay low when not in the city.

On my end I was still selling illegal weapons to a point that if anyone poked their nose into the shed, I'd receive a massive fine and then be shut down for a week, my properties seized, and potentially sent to the game's verison of jail for a day or two. In short, living in the city was precarious as hell but still very worth it for the relative security.

I left a message for AZTea before logging out, using the pod's connection to the internet to look for various guns that would be easy enough to create. Going through sources I'd already used took less time as I had a few ideas about the direction I wanted to take things in. I had two variations of a similar design that I could attempt. One was the British Sten gun, which had been a mainstay during World War Two, and the other variation was the German MP3008, an attempt to recreate the cheap firearm in a different manner. The only problem with making either design was that I couldn't find any blueprints no matter where I looked, even after spending a full hour searching.

This left the black market, which I rarely used these days, ever since I'd hired a rather expensive hacker to erase all but my most essential records so that it would be even harder to find me, and the arms dealer who'd sold me the various guns I brought to each safehouse I used.

There were other transactions I'd made in the past, though most were unimportant. It was here that I began searching for weapon blueprints. The only problem with buying on the black market is the fact that sellers don't want you making your own product unless they specifically know you and your track record, along with the fact that the authorities are everywhere.

These problems can be circumvented if you spend enough money though, as almost anyone will sacrifice their morals for a major payday. The amount I did spend on the blueprint was negligible enough for me, a digital blueprint for a Sten being sent over.

Seeing the roughly forty parts needed to assemble the gun brought a wry smile to my face, the jump in both effort needed and the number of parts to create giving me a slight headache. I brought up the designs as a physical construct and added a table next to the computer desk to lay it out on. From there I began the laborious process of copying the design into the game solely based on memory, since I couldn't bring the data itself in to look at.

AZTea logged back in at some point while I was carefully copying over a piece, greeting me before rushing off to go find her friend, the door slamming shut behind her. It took some time, but I managed to draw out each and every part for the gun, along with the means of assembling it once all the parts were available.

I was just putting on the finishing touches to the design when AZTea brought another player back inside, a man of towering height and size who had to duck under the door in order to fit through. He almost began speaking to me with a deep booming voice before he was shushed and dragged over to the boring machine by AZTea, who began introducing him to where he would be working.

Just as I finished putting on the last bits of the design, the whole thing glowed for just a moment as I put the pencil down.

-------------------

You have designed a weapon of your own making. Would you like to name it and give it a description?

-------------------

I was stunned at the question of whether or not I wanted to name it. In trying to find out as much as possible about manufacturing this particular weapon, I'd found that the gun was named after its chief designers and the factory in which it was first produced. I also remembered a speech from my high school history class that had once given me pause. I selected yes, and began typing.

-------------------

Sten SMG

"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat. We shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" -Winston Churchill

This was their finest hour.

White Common Firearm

-------------------

After I had finished the description I nodded once to myself, believing it worthy of the mark it had left on history. Now it would be used to help me and an innumerable amount of players who ventured beyond the walls. The gun, when built, would be little more than a tube with a bunch of parts stuffed inside, the magazine sticking out to the left, near the end of the barrel.

The stock could be made from a wireframe, wooden block, or solid metal, easing production costs greatly. I rolled up the blueprint and placed it in the first locker to the left of the workbench before turning to get acquainted with the newest addition to the workshop.

AZTea was still showing him how to work the cutting machine, though it was clear that she knew nothing about how it worked as she took things slowly, tapping her foot as both she and her gigantic friend figured out how it operated.

The man had named himself Jolly_Green, the prison clothing somehow still baggy despite his massive frame. He easily stood a full two feet taller than I, his eggshell colored arms like tree trunks, his hands big enough to grip a watermelon one handed. AZTea told me in a hushed voice that he had a height complex, so I shouldn't mention anything about it.

"It's a bit disorienting logging in, but I think being the biggest guy in the room will be fun." I did my best to sympathize, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Before we could begin production again we needed to get more supplies. It was for this reason that I brought both players along to the warehouse where they met James, who figured we might as well get a car for a few thousand credits if we were going to be loaded down with more and more bags. I agreed with the sentiment, though we didn't have quite enough money at the moment.

In the end I just stated that we'd be alright until we could find a car that suited our needs. The total cost for everything we needed was a solid eight hundred credits for just enough metal and spare parts to try and make around twenty new submachine guns.

On the way back I noticed some NPCs giving the three of us rather nasty glares as we passed by, one of them even attempting to follow us. Before we got back to the workshop I dragged him into an alley and shot him, not wanting to take any chances. AZTea was concerned while Jolly_Green was angry at first, then surprised that I'd known he was tailing us. There was no loot to inspect and I could already hear sirens off in the distance. We left rather quickly, finishing the supply run once we were confident we were alone again.

Eight bags were separated according to what machine would be using them, and I showed the blueprint to both players. AZTea looked at it closely while Jolly seemed a bit confused by all the parts and pieces that needed to be carefully made and put together. It was for this reason that I put him to work with the boring machine.

"You'll be knocking out the barrels for each weapon, and drilling specific spots on some of the different parts. Think you can handle that?" Getting a nod in response, I clapped him on the back before turning to AZTea who was already drawing the parts out on the digital display for the cutting machine, a plate of sheet metal already sitting on the cutting platform.

Once she had finished with that I handed over the designs to Jolly, having marked down which ones he'd be focusing on. The sounds of metal being cut, drilled, and then put together filled the workshop, along with some indie rock that AZTea was playing over the radio, the loud music helping to cover up the work we were doing, though not by much.

When I wasn't assembling parts or helping out at either machine, I was inspecting whatever parts had been cut out, occasionally having to make minor adjustments, though a few pieces had to be scrapped entirely, being unfit for assembly. When I was unable to do that or any of the other various jobs I'd given myself, I built some of the more intricate pieces that couldn't be cut or drilled.

With all this happening it didn't take too long before the first completed Sten was sitting on the workbench, all shiny and new. We'd also made five extra magazines for the submachine gun, all chambered in its favored ammunition of 9x19 Parabellum. I had to make some last inspections to ensure everything was working properly, but overall it was a solid piece of hardware and would be fairly easy to maintain.

It looked like a metal tube with a wire hanger attached to the back, the magazine sticking out of the left side of the gun. When I checked the time I found that it had taken us around thirty minutes to make the gun with our admittedly limited skills and equipment. The rifling was decent, having not needed any of the extra steps that were often necessary in the real world. I thanked whoever simplified the crafting engine enough for that at least.

AZTea wanted to set up another photo shoot for a sale, though she didn't want to be the one holding the gun this time. Instead she wanted to see either me or Jolly, who just raised an eyebrow in question.

In the end I found myself using the corner of a building in an alley in one of the worse-off parts of town, fully disguised with my face mask, hoodie, hat, and now a bandolier wrapped around my torso. The Sten was held with the stock against my right shoulder, one hand holding the grip while the other held onto the magazine well, looking as if I was about to pop out from behind the corner and fire.

When we got back to the storage shed, AZTea took over the advertising portion of the work while Jolly_Green and I went back to making the various parts that formed the Sten. We had a lot of work ahead of us and I didn't want to operate in the western part of town for long, the words of a hypervigilant NPC ringing in my ears while I cut out some of the metal frame.

"Just remember to stay out of the west side and you and I won't have any problems. Got it?"