Procuring Weapons

The weekend home center was a microcosm of peace.

The laughter of families. Dogs barking from shopping carts. The sweet scent of freshly cut lumber and the sharp smell of paint.

I pushed a cart, wandering through the massive store.

To the other customers, I probably looked like "a dutiful son buying DIY supplies for his parents." Or maybe "a high schooler prepping for a school festival."

But the shopping list in my head was nothing so peaceful.

"Anti-Goblin Thrusting Weapon"

"Anti-Orc Blunt Armament"

"Materials Tested for Mana Conductivity"

(If I could just buy a katana, this would be so much easier…)

I let out a small sigh in front of the gardening section shelves.

In this country, with its Swords and Firearms Control Law, you couldn't get a proper weapon. Replica swords were out of the question. They'd snap the moment you swung them.

Kitchen knives and hatchets had too short a reach. Fighting within the range of a monster's claws and fangs was suicide.

So I had to make one.

From this "forest of household goods," I needed to excavate "killing intent" that could be brought to a battlefield.

"… No good. Too light."

I picked up a gardening support stake and flicked it lightly with my finger.

A hollow stainless steel pipe. Adequate for propping up tomato seedlings, but it would bend like taffy if I tried to bash a goblin's skull with it.

I put it back and moved on.

The lumber section.

Two-by-fours, red pine, cypress.

The texture wasn't bad. Easy to work with.

But wood conducted maso poorly.

If I channeled my Mana Strike into it, it would carbonize from the inside and shatter before hitting the enemy.

Excellent for disposable clubs, but it couldn't be a partner.

(Metal it is, then.)

I headed toward the back of the building materials section.

The atmosphere changed.

This area drew more professional tradesmen than weekend DIY dads.

The smell of iron and oil. Mountains of materials stacked roughly.

This was the air I'd been looking for.

"… Found it."

I stopped in front of a particular shelf.

Bundles of black, gleaming iron rods were stacked there.

Deformed reinforcing bars.

Steel meant to be embedded in concrete as the skeleton of structures.

The surface featured spiral protrusions called "ribs," giving it an utterly rugged appearance.

I pulled out one thick bar from the pile: a D22, 22 millimeters in diameter, 2 meters long.

The weight bit into my palm.

About 6 kilograms.

Too heavy for an ordinary high schooler to swing around, but with Body Strengthening factored in, that mass would translate directly into destructive power.

(Center of gravity is… not bad. Hardness is sufficient.)

Checking that no one was watching, I channeled a tiny amount of maso from my fingertip.

For an instant, a pale blue light ran across the rebar's surface.

The mana passed through without resistance.

High-purity iron had excellent compatibility with maso. This could withstand my mana output.

The surface irregularities were good too. A vicious shape that would tear flesh and widen wounds on impact.

Thrust it and it's a spear. Swing it and it's a mace.

A steel mass with not a shred of beauty, existing only to kill.

"Approved."

I grinned and tossed two D22 rebars into my cart.

Then I added rubber sheeting to wrap the grip, tennis grip tape for traction, and a metal file for shaping.

From the outside, I was just a mysterious high schooler buying rebar and tennis supplies.

Would they find it suspicious?

Whatever. As long as I don't get reported, anything goes.

As I headed for the register, a young male employee who'd been organizing shelves gaped at my cart.

"Um… sir?"

"… What?"

I turned around, putting on my best law-abiding citizen face.

The employee glanced between my face and the menacing rebar in my cart, forcing a strained smile.

"Th-that looks really heavy… Is it for some kind of DIY project? Foundation work maybe?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Want me to cut it for you? It'll be hard to carry home like that."

"No, I need it at this length. The longer the better for my purposes."

I answered curtly.

The employee tilted his head.

Under normal circumstances, you couldn't imagine a DIY project that used 2-meter rebar as-is.

"… Actually, there's been more pest animals around the neighborhood lately."

On impulse, I decided to give him a bit of small talk.

It wasn't a lie.

Goblins are pests. Worse than bears or boars, the worst kind of pest that considers humans prey.

"Pests… you mean like civets?"

"Something bigger and more vicious. That's why I need something this sturdy or it'll snap in two."

I gripped the cold rebar to test its feel.

The blood drained from the employee's face.

Maybe that joke was a bit too dark.

"Ha, haha… I-I see. Please be careful…"

"Yeah, thanks."

I hurried away and paid at the register.

Total: a few thousand yen.

Far too cheap for a weapon meant to save the world. Or at least to keep me alive.

 

*

 

Outside the store, dusk was already settling.

I shouldered the bag containing the long rebar and walked through the parking lot.

The solid weight felt good.

The sensation of having "fangs" back in my once-empty hands.

(Just you wait.)

I looked down at the town sinking into the evening gloom.

With this iron mass, I wouldn't fall behind against early-stage dungeon monsters.

I could pierce their defenses, crush their bones, split their skulls.

All that remained was to finish this into a "weapon."

Sharpen the tip to a razor point, adjust the grip, tune it to become an extension of my body.

The craftsman's blood was stirring.

Tonight would be busy.

I smiled to myself, not that anyone was around to see it.

As I walked away, an odd dignity clung to my back, as if I were carrying a legendary sword.