Wolf Barrel 5.56

Today is the third day.

I was fighting boredom right now.

I have nothing to do.

Even if you don't have any injuries, you are draining quite a bit of strength (magic?), besides general muscle pain. I didn't want to lie down as much as possible and try to recover.

But even if I try to sleep, I'm walking down an unpaved road with a wooden wheel, so I rock with guttangotton, and I'm not very, but I can't sleep. If you don't keep your arms under your head right now, your back of your head will hit the floor with a gunshot and your eyes won't even close.

When the area darkened, a group of sailcarriages camped in one place, so it was then that they could finally sleep.

And now I'm on the move. Days are expensive and we still have time until night.

(I'm going to die in my spare time, and I think I'll check "that")

When I closed my eyes quietly, I concentrated my consciousness.

Then, behind the dark eyelid, a book emerged blurry.

It's a thick, splendid book. That cover depicts a picture of one wolf howling at the back of a forest. A very preferred design.

Next, open the book.

Then the cover opens and the page goes apart for one thing.

And at the end of the page, the pistol Beretta M92F was depicted with so much sophistication as if it were real.

But in addition to the painting, the blank space stands out, as long as it is rusty. At the bottom of the page, only the number 4 +1 was marked Potun.

Further down the page, there is also the M4A1 of the raid carbine.

When I realized, this' book 'was in my head.

Every time I closed my eyes, this came to me, and I was getting thinner and thinner, and I asked one of the adventurers. Then he told me in surprise.

This book seems to be a technology called the "Spellbook" that any wizard can use. He was surprised because that was what anyone knew.

Apparently, the painting on the page means it can be used as magic.

The number "4 +1" just now is 4 bullets entering the magazine and +1 bullets set in the pharmacy. It represents being able to fire five shots at full capacity.

M4A1 is marked "3 +1".

(Even so, it's too little)

The sigh spills unexpectedly.

Official numbers say that Beretta should have 15 shots, or at least 20 for M4A1.

And yet, what is this discrepancy? I don't know what caused it.

In the first place, how much magic do I have?

Too much I don't know.

As for magic, I asked around the caravan people, but there was little harvest.

In this world, magical knowledge seems to be valuable enough to be treated as a commodity in itself, and few mercenaries know it.

In order to get information, they have to buy something called a fucking expensive sorcery book or buy information from someone like an advisor.

There are two things I know about magic right now.

One, if you use it too much, you die.

Two, eat something refined and go to sleep to recover.

That's all.

If there was a wizard among the mercenaries, I might have asked, but I don't know if he told me for free. No, you probably can't.

As a thank you for helping a bunch of sailcarriages, I got five silver coins, but I don't even know if this is enough.

I don't know what's at stake.

I have no idea about magic in my wizard habits.

I don't know what to do, it's dangerous, I don't know what procedure to use to operate magic.

It's the most important thing!

I feel like I bought a used RPG game with no instructions on it.

Besides placing the monster at the starting point, the first-sight livestock specification.

(I don't mind thinking crap)

I started something else to change my mood.

Lift your eyelids and attract a leather bag the size of a student bag on your pillow. This leather bag is for me. I'm a beast, but I'll be patient there. And by the way, I have the clothes I'm wearing right now. I'm concerned about the stinging in the seams, but this is all I have, because the clothes I was wearing before are not in a state of washing and what happens.

The bag contained a spare magazine of Beretta and M4A1, as well as several crystal fangs.

I checked the contents and felt that I was still short of ammo, so I took the time to refill the magazine.

Start with Beretta's 9mm Magazine.

Focus your consciousness on your left hand and summon an empty magazine. It then produces one bullet at a time and slowly puts it in the magazine.

It is also possible to have a magazine packed with bullets summoned at once, but it turns out that it would be less burdensome to summon and combine in pieces in this way.

I'm sorry I'm running out of gas anymore, so keep working as slowly as possible.

Stop working when you feel sick, wait to recover, and go back to work again.

And put a full magazine in a leather bag.

By the way, I'm not summoning the gun body here right now.

In addition to consuming magic when subpoenaed, guns continue to consume magic to keep them alive. The magic keeps coming out like a twisted faucet.

I didn't know the rules, and as soon as I woke up, I summoned M4A1, and I started dying twice. I want to yell at you to tell me first.

No maintenance costs are required for the magazine, and once summoned, that's clear.

Both guns and magazines disappear when you think 'I'm in the way'. Principles? I don't know.

(That's a really underexplained game)

With a bitter laugh, I then worked on the preliminary magazine for the M4A1.

We need to pay particular attention to this.

Physically, the cost of four Beretta magazines and one M4A1 magazine is comparable. It's practically four times the cost, so you can't do it at the same pace as you did earlier.

Carefully, summon an empty magazine.

That's how when the leather bag was replenished with enough ammunition,

"Wait a minute..."

I flashed something. [M]

By summoning him to pieces, he reduced the cost of magic.

So if the gun body could be summoned to pieces, and assembled on the spot, wouldn't that lead to cost savings?

No, I can't assemble a gun.

But what if I summoned you without a magazine?

Wouldn't it cost you a magazine if you loaded it later? It's worth a try.

Before I forget, I took a record in the notebook I got.

Uh, and one more thing.

When I summon a gun, I have to see if I can summon it with a ready shot.

It is very inconvenient to summon and then the gun cannot be fired without pulling the slide or operating the charging handle. I have to puff it out and shoot it puff.

If I'm guzzled, they'll kill me just like they are.

Anyway, I was just beaten to death with a stick. [M]

Comparing the notebook to the spellbook, I think about it.

"What have you done, Lord Ogami?"

From time to time, it took a squeaky voice.

This carriage I'm falling asleep in has another passenger. I was trying not to make a sound, but I guess I woke him up.

I thought sorry, and I bowed my head sorry, and the magnificent man waved his wrinkled hand.

"No, no, don't worry about it. I had some free time, too."

His face, laughing like that, was wrapped around in bandages.

Neither do those fingers that wave.

Under the blanket, I guess it's in the same condition.

I also thought about treatment with crystalline fangs, but I'm sorry, but I rejected it.

Because I'm in trouble tomorrow when I see him the same way. [M]

I laughed vaguely and only told him that I was preparing my weapon.

Then he opened his eyes, exaggerating,

"What a care! Even when I lay down like this, I didn't know I had any spare parts for the maintenance of my weapons. No, I want young creatures these days to apprentice the attitude of Lord Ogami."

He praised me all the more exaggerated.

"No, it's not that fine."

"Ha ha, be modest. But what is it, Lord Ogami is so young that he knows how to be polite?"

"I'm sure Lord Ogami's parents are also famous."

……

I was about to say something, and I froze into that word.

Cold sweat, conveys the back.

My thinness drove me to the urge to scratch my head more or less.

(... what a jerk I am)

When I got here, I finally realized.

I haven't thought about my parents in the last three days.

In the real world, I'm supposed to be missing. He disappeared neglectfully from school and left nothing on it. I'm sure my parents are confused and sad.

Accidents, shipwrecks, kidnappings. And suicide. Any disturbing words apply.

I can quickly imagine my father or mother having considerable stress about that.

Yet I never thought about my parents until now.

I wasn't dissatisfied.

My father and mother love it too. I didn't want to make you sad, and I felt the love from the two of us.

But.

I don't want to go home.

Guilt to pierce the mind eventually faded and was instead repainted by another emotion.

It's exhilarating.

I can't contain this urge that sprouted in my chest after listening to the adventurer.

Since I've come to this world, I've been immersed in ideas for almost four or six hours.

I want to be sure. [M]

What the hell can I do in this world? I can't help but be sure of that.

You might find a nice answer in this other world that you couldn't give in the real world. I just think so, my heart jumps.

If we find a way back into the real world, maybe I...

"What's wrong with you?

"... no... I will sleep softly"

That's why I put a blanket on my head.

Maybe I am.

I choose to live in this world.

By the way, there's a reason he called me "Master Ogami" when he was a magnificent man.

When they first asked me my name, I called it "Worship True Enlightenment".

It is the name attributed to the epoch "The Unreliable Wolf".

It doesn't mean anything in particular.

I just wanted to be called by that name in this world.

Evil is better than not being named the Dark King of Misery.