“Contract? Wasn’t 《Matan’s Shooter》 about just holding this gun and firing the magic bullets? Was there a contract with Zamiel?”
This was something not mentioned in Max Hescok’s journal. If what was said now was true and applied to all Matan’s Shooters, it would mean that Max Hescok also had a contract with Zamiel.
While Ha Leeha was organizing his thoughts, Zamiel spoke again. His gaze, which had been targeting the owner of the physical body, had softened a bit.
= … Yes, I promised. But saying I deceived you is displeasing. You were greedy to make a name for yourself in the war against your enemy nation. My power wasn’t necessary just for your survival. You wanted to achieve even more to raise your status and prestige, and so we made a contract for that purpose. =
“Um… strictly speaking, it was to enhance the rights of our discriminated village and tribe by my achievements… And when there’s an offer to blow off the enemy’s commander’s head just by pulling the trigger, which crazy man would reject that? Logically speaking. It was an irresistible temptation. Ha, I shouldn’t have fallen for it.”
The owner of the physical body spoke as if he had lost a game. His tone did not reflect someone coming to terms with the destruction of his existence and the loss of his soul.
= Hehehe… So, was it that your pitiful youth made you decide to help them now? =
“There is some of that. Why? Got a problem?”
At this point, Ha Leeha wanted to make a bewildered expression. Who exactly was this madman? Judging by the fighting with Minis and Zamiel talking about an enemy nation, he seemed to be a citizen of Fibiel. Were there such kinds of people among the citizens of Fibiel?
The owner of the physical body was treating Zamiel with disdain, so much that it was frustrating that Ha Leeha couldn’t move his face. Zamiel had to briefly mask his expression due to the owner’s audacity.= Fine. No one has ever conformed to fate like you. If it’s your and my contract, I, too, must keep it. Do as you please, 《Matan’s Shooter》. =
“Call me by my name until my soul becomes yours. I am still alive.”
= Is that so? Then just remember there is only one shot left, Francis Pegamanabo. =
Ha Leeha finally heard his name.
“Francis… I’ve heard that name somewhere before. Or have I? Pegamanabo? Pegamanabo… lot of misfires?”
While Ha Leeha was contemplating the peculiar family name, Zamiel’s eyes briefly sparkled. Ha Leeha did not notice that brief moment.
“No, it’s not Pegamanabo! Damn it! Another joke with names!”
Finally, Ha Leeha realized who the model for this shooter was.
“Haha… there have been snipers before, but if you’re talking about someone who started to gain this level of fame, the first one… Indeed. It makes sense, considering the discrimination, the tribe, and coming from a humble background.”
Francis fervently explained his method of disguise to the Panrind people back in time.
Although Ha Leeha could not fully comprehend the previous explanations or concepts due to the gaps in his understanding, he did not feel much regret.
“Besides, I have my monocle and the I learned this time. I’m not particularly interested in transforming into other races.”
What intrigued Ha Leeha was Matan. What exactly was it?
After gathering the Pandrilians and explaining for a long time, the leader finally instructed them to practice and then headed elsewhere.
In a corner of the village, which had snow-covered backgrounds both past and present, there was a small smithy with an empty lot beside it.
Bang———…!
“Oh! Impressive!”
“Francis, sir!”
Francis embraced the little kid running toward him.
At the spot where targets were set up, a considerable number of people were practicing shooting.
‘It’s systematic. As expected, this person’s abilities gave them these firearms.’ Judging by the noise coming from the smithy, it seemed they hadn’t established a mass production system yet.
They were probably at the level where they could barely make a few muskets in a small village smithy. However, even if they could produce just 100 firearms similar to the Mosin-Nagant in the musket era, the difference in firepower would be incomparable.
“Look at this, I can do it up to here now.”
Whoooom……!
“Whoa- That’s, that’s it!”
If the skill effect was similar to what Shimo used in , then there was no need for further explanation. Ha Leeha watched as Koma’s arm and the rifle fused together. However, it was not yet as perfect as what Shimo had shown.
“That’s amazing! Alright. That’s enough for now. If you keep practicing slowly, you’ll become much better than me!”
“Sir, you have seven of these skills! I want to learn all of them… Can’t you teach me everything?”
The child looked up at Francis with sparkling eyes.
Francis patted Koma’s head.
“You greedy rascal! I’d love to teach you everything, but I can’t. Without my gun, you can’t use the skills, and even then, you need the right weather and situation. Without my gun, in a place where it’s snowing heavily, there’s only one type of bullet you can use.”
“Then give me your gun, sir. I want to be like you!”
The child pouted.
Ha Leeha realized that the outsider Francis had already blended in here quite well.
“You want to be like me?”
“Yes!”
The corners of Francis’ mouth lifted. Ha Leeha could sense that Francis was smiling from the movement of his face, though there was a hint of sadness in his tone.
“I can’t really tell you to become Matan’s Shooter.”
Thinking it was probably because he couldn’t talk about adult matters, Ha Leeha was about to dismiss it when Francis spoke again.
“Then, when you grow up… cross the sea, to where the sun rises. Go to the place where the sun rises first in that land. Even there, go to the place where you can see the sunrise first.”
“Excuse me? Beyond the sea? They said there’s nothing there, though?”
“Hehe, right? So… until you go there yourself, never, never, never ever think of becoming like that me. Got it?”
Ha Leeha listened to Francis with wide eyes. Why did he leave behind this memory? Why did he hide the magic circle from Zamiel and entrust a booklet to a nameless minority group this far from Fibiel?
‘These words… they are about the New Continent beyond the Sea of Dawn.’
He never mentioned it directly. But every word he uttered so far was a hint related to Matan and a kind of signal, hoping that whoever saw his memories would catch on!
Was it because Zamiel was listening that he couldn’t be more blatant? Yet, even this could already be considered quite explicit.
‘Did Francis visit the New Continent? Is that why he’s saying this—but no, it doesn’t seem like he’s been there before. Moreover, if humans had visited, the paleo people would have known. So, he must have heard about it? The place where you can see the sunrise first in the New Continent…’
The eastern end.
Where had Elizabeth and Brown gone? Who accompanied them as they headed east, further east in the New Continent?
The current “Matan’s Shooter” and their child, Kyle.
“Something related to Matan’s Shooter is there.”
=aren’t you talking a bit too much?=
Zamiel’s interjection was akin to a seal of approval for Ha Leeha’s speculation.
“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t interfere, Zamiel? You’re not the type to go back on your word, are you?”
Francis patted the boy and sent him back to the practice field, smiling broadly as he turned around. Zamiel’s expression was somewhat stiff, which Ha Leeha also sensed.
“And wouldn’t it be better if I spoke?”
=Why do you think so.=
“Because you want people to be interested in Matan’s Shooter. You want more people to covet it, to approach it… Though I’ve submitted to this fate, it’s only to the extent of using Matan without resistance. If I prepare a place to ensure this gun disappears when I use the last Matan, it won’t be troublesome if things remain unchanged. Isn’t that so?”
Had Francis already steeled himself up to this point? Perhaps he was trying to gauge Zamiel’s reaction to that possibility.
Ha Leeha could feel the subtle provocation in his tone, noticing the tremble in his voice.
However, Zamiel only responded with a slight chuckle.
“Half right and half wrong. First, let’s address what’s wrong. I am satisfied with you, Francis. Haven’t I mentioned that there’s never been a Matan’s Shooter like you before?”
“Satisfied? Do you think I can’t eliminate Matan’s Shooter’s gun?”
“That wasn’t included in our contract. The last place you fire Matan, irrespective of how odd the location may be, should be a place where it can undoubtedly be touched by human hands. That much is sufficient for me. I am satisfied with that.”
“Ugh—then what was the correct part—”
“But… it would be problematic if it does not become the handover of Matan’s Shooter.”
Zamiel’s eyes gleamed.
The entity attached to Matan’s Shooter’s gun gazed unwaveringly at Francis. Though Francis hesitated momentarily, Ha Leeha could sense its intent.
=”It’s been too long… The time for the handover… has already passed.”=
The entity was not addressing Francis directly; it was speaking to Ha Leeha, who had entered Francis’ body.
=”It must change hands as soon as possible. As soon as possible.”=
“Kyle!”
With that, Ha Leeha lost consciousness in a flash of light.
“Whaaa!”
“Ha Leeha-nim!”
Blaugrunn shot to his feet and embraced Ha Leeha, who instinctively hugged the young boy back. Even experiencing it twice, waking as if from a nightmare didn’t make it any easier to adapt.
‘I knew it. I knew it right from the start! As expected—Zamiel is a being that transcends time and space!’
It wasn’t that Francis was hiding anything. No, it might be accurate to say Francis did try to hide it. However, the moment Zamiel saw Ha Leeha entering Francis’ memory, he perceived the world anew.
“He was just watching. He let Francis ramble on just to deliver that final word.”
Should it be seen as Zamiel’s advice? Or perhaps a warning?
A word unconsciously escaped Ha Leeha as he searched for the most fitting term.
“Ooommph…”
“What?”
Zamiel was an entity attached to the gun used by Matan’s Shooter. In other words, he could ascertain his current position. If, under those circumstances, he was watching Ha Leeha’s state across time and space?
Could he not divulge his current location?
‘That’s why he remained silent. He listened to Francis until the conversation was sufficient before intervening. If he intended to stop it, he would have interfered immediately when the talk began.’
But Zamiel didn’t. Because the message Francis was trying to convey coincided with Zamiel’s own intentions.
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