A Gunslinger’s System in a World of Magic

Henry had run the math in his head while he slept.

Due to the cuff on his wrist, he didn't currently have access to Elminster's Stock and was already running out of 'Hydra's Tongue' bullets and while he still had normal bullets for his revolver, he worried those might not be enough.

He was also out of Healing Potions. Every injury he had sustained throughout the journey to Alvareen, including the punch from Jonas that had knocked him out, had ducked his Hit Points.

He had now learned that he could recover Hit Points naturally through regular or —as was the case while inside the cage—, sparse feeding mixed with a lot of rest. Even meditative rest.

He had recovered a bit of all he had lost and his Hit Points currently stood at 80/170 but without any potion to heal himself with, he could not afford to be reckless and as such, could not just assume normal bullets would be enough for what was to come.

Which brings us to his request.

As he looked at the swords and spears and even the tips pretty the arrows that had been provided for the Raiding Party, he saw they were all better than normal steel. They gave off enough Mana to show they had been crafted with magic. If there was a gun crafted similarly, why not ask for it?

Ed scoffed and then laughed as he said,

"A gun? What sort of fighter wields a gun?"

"He's not a fighter," Doherty said and looked Henry over with a smile.

Doherty stepped closer to Henry,

"He's a Gunman."

'Gunslinger, actually,' Henry thought but didn't say.

Doherty was still looking him over,

"You can't cause your Mana to surge, can you?" He asked.

Henry shook his head slowly,

"No, I can't."

Doherty scoffed and shook his head,

"Of course, you can't. Met one of your kind once. The fucker just kept running about and shooting at me. Cut him up into little pieces eventually though.

Relying on a weapon you can't make into an extension of yourself… Pitiful way to fight. If we can even call it that."

Henry frowned.

He was starting to get the sense that there was a prejudice against guns in Alvareen. Then again, even at New Freudein and Saint Claret where guns were not totally uncommon, he had received scoffs.

He found it even more interesting because he was sure Doherty still had respect for Archers but Gunmen/Gunslingers was where he drew the line.

"So can I have a gun?" Henry eventually asked.

He had no interest in addressing preconceived notions. He just dreaded the thought that he'd have to pick up a sword to support his finite bullet supply.

"There are no guns," Ed said, "Pick up a sword."

"No, No," Doherty said while looking at Henry with amusement,

"I think I have something for you."

Doherty walked away then and into the main buildings of the Estate. He returned minutes later with a gun belt slung across his shoulder. He tossed that at Henry.

"Here."

"Oomph," Henry let out. The belt, backed by Doherty's tossing strength, was heavier than he expected it to be.

Henry looked the belt over. It was the kind to be worn across the shoulder with the gun hooked into a holster that was meant to sit just below the chest.

The gun itself looked like a sawed-off double barrel shotgun but the muzzles, as well as the handle, were gilded with bronze to give the gun a more dignified look so it didn't just look improvised.

Henry pulled it out of the holster and lifted it a few times with an appreciative nod.

"Nice weight."

"The gun belonged to that Gunman I cut into pieces," Doherty said,

"I Kept the belt as a trophy but the sight of it in my personal space sickens me.

Use it."

"I will," Henry said and while he was looking the gun over, he received a notification from the System for the Gun's description;

['Violent Retort':

Crafted with magically fortified steel alloy and capable of firing Mana-infused Shotgun Slugs.

Attack Power: 70]

'Attack power?' Henry thought in surprise. That was a description the system had not given about 'The Hydra's Sting'. He wondered if that was because 'Violent Retort' didn't have magical attacks.

Speaking of which, Henry realized there was nothing about Mana requirements to fire a shot and the corner of his lips twitched.

A bullet/slug pre-infused with mana and did not cost further to be shot. Was that not a godsend for him who currently had limited resources for Mana recovery?

'Add on to just how many Mana Points I have right now and I just might never run out again,' Henry thought with a smile,

'Shame there aren't more slugs though."

The gun belt had loops and looked capable of holding 24 slugs at a time but was currently depleted, leaving only about 10 behind.

Henry popped the gun open and nodded appreciatively that there were still two slugs in the weapon.

'I suppose your owner never got to fire his final shots then,' he thought because he vehemently doubted Doherty would have reloaded the gun.

"What are you standing around for?" Doherty called out, pulling Henry out of his thoughts,

"You have a gun. Now grab an Armor"

A minute later, Henry was in Leather Armor (trying his best not to be too focused on how annoying he found it to wear), had the gun belt slung across his chest with 'Violent Retort' in its holster, and stood side by side with Louis who looked at him and asked,

"So you use a gun?"

"I do," Henry said.

"Wierd," Louis said and trailed off. He had an Armor on like everyone else but was the only one to have selected a staff.

Their control cuffs were replaced with ones connected specifically to Doherty for his command of the Party just before he led them out of the Encampment where they joined up with about six other Mercenary Fighters in the employ of Ralph Gribbo.

"I thought it'd just be us and him," Henry said with a frown.

"Oh, it's never just us. Mostly we're meant for support and grunt work," Louis said.

"Grunt work?" Henry asked.

Louis nodded,

"The whole reason they go into Dungeons is for Loot. Someone has to handle carrying them out and gathering them. That'd be us. When we're not fighting for our lives, of course."

Louis was barely done speaking when their party arrived at yet another cart where they were all handed bags to slug over their shoulders for the loot to be gathered.

"We don't have to worry about them though," Louis said as he adjusted the bag across his shoulder,

"Doherty is the focus."

"No, no, I think we'll have to worry about them too," Henry said,

"We'll have to make sure they don't get to the Command cuff before us."

"Ah, good point," Louis said.

They were loaded into Wagons that pulled out of the Estate proper and they started on their way through the snow-covered street until they were out of Alvareen and headed to one of the hills that surrounded it.

The wagons pulled to a stop soon enough and following the lead of Doherty and his six Mercenary comrades, they approached a gathering of many different groups either talking among themselves or adjusting the straps of their equipment.

"Others hoping to raid the Dungeon," Louis explained.

"I figured," Henry said gently.

His attention was not on the gathered groups but rather on a fairly circular portal that oozed with irregular energy and warped the space around it.

While Henry was staring at it, he overheard a conversation;

"They said it'd be a Third Floor Dungeon."

"Really? I heard it'd be Fourth."

"Fourth? By the goddess— Well, we can handle that."

"Yeah, yeah, we can. A Fifth-floor Dungeon will be a whole other thing entirely though. Had a buddy go into one.

Came back out with one arm and half a face. True story."

"Whoa, half a face? Scary!"

The conversation matched horror stories he had gleaned about Dungeons already but rather than add to his worry, it amused Henry instead and had him cracking a smile even as he watched the portal occasionally surge aggressively.