Chapter 130: Gun Store

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

After using the bug, Li Du wasn’t exhausted, but he was quite famished.

Alcohol could be converted into energy to replenish the strength that he had lost, so he hadn’t been completely joking with Sophie.

Of course, he couldn’t actually drink rubbing alcohol, since he still had a long life ahead.

There were lots of meat and wine. Americans were really wasteful; even in a low-income community, they had prepared lots of food, and at least half of it might go to waste.

Li Du went all out during the meal, bringing Ah Meow to sweep the plates. Sophie was astounded by the amount they ate.

"What’s up?" Li Du asked. "What kind of expression is that?"

Sophie said weakly, "I once thought of asking you out for a meal as a way of thanks for saving me, but from the looks of it, I need to find a different way."

Li Du didn’t eat for free, and donated 1,000 dollars to the community hospital at the end of the meal.

A few days later, Hans sold off the j.a.panese Military’s Royalty papers, each roll for 500 dollars. With 15 rolls, that was a total of 7,500 dollars.

Li Du was quite taken aback when he collected his share. "How did you do it? Those papers can’t be considered antique, right? 7,500 could buy them a paper machine. Who would be so dumb to have bought these papers?"

Hans said gleefully while sipping his beer, "That’s skill, buddy. That’s how good Big Fox is."

"Yeah, you’re really good," Li Du had to admit. "But I would like to know, who would be so foolish as to spend a few thousand dollars for a bunch of papers?"

"Many j.a.panese people, after migrating to America, to improve their status, claim that they are royalties. How to prove it? One of the best ways is to have items that the royalties used.

"What we have aren’t just ordinary papers, but napkins. They aren’t ordinary napkins either, but specially used by military commanders that were royalties. Some people bought them so that they could claim that these were papers left behind by their family. With that, it’s possible for them to raise their status…"

Hearing his explanations, Li Du was surprised and said, "Using just some napkins to improve their status—the j.a.panese are really interesting."

"The more people you meet, the more peculiar things you’ll know," Hans said with disdain, thinking about his ugly past.

Li Du didn’t expect that these papers could sell for 7,500 dollars. In America, a second-hand BMW was worth about that much as well.

But Hans was on to something; there was nothing that was inherently valuable or useless. It depended on the right buyer.

As long as it was the right buyer, for example, to a person dying of thirst in the desert, a bottle of water could sell for 10,000 dollars.

There was also the machine gun that they had to sell. In early June, they were planning to attend an auction in Phoenix, and they brought the gun with them.

There was nothing much that was of value in that auction. Li Du bought an ordinary storage unit that belonged to a common household and made about 2,000 dollars from the furniture and appliances.

After selling the furniture and appliances, Hans brought him to a gun store.

The gun store was called "Veteran’s World." The renovation was old and quirky; the front door was fitted with a flintlock—a type of lock used on muskets—and was the handle of the door.

After pus.h.i.+ng open the door and entering, he found that the inside was just like a supermarket, stuffed full of rows and shelves of merchandise.

In a supermarket, the merchandise were household items, snacks and beverages and the like, but this store was full of guns and their accessories.

Starting at the entrance, dozens of shelves lined the store, with each full of all sorts of pistols and rifles; submachine guns, automatic rifles, Carbines, and sniper rifles.

The walls were also draped with guns. The focus was on hunting rifles and shotguns. The pistols were mainly at the counter, from flintlock pistols to modern pistols.

Besides guns, there was also all sorts of accessories. Optical sights, aim a.s.sists, backpacks, hooks, straps, jackets, helmets, goggles, walkies, etc...

In one of the counter displays were tools for cleaning guns. It had cleaning fluids, gun oil, and brushes of all sizes.

After walking for a bit in the store, Li Du understood why America couldn’t pa.s.s anti-gun laws. There were too many people who liked guns. The gun industry affected too many people.

Seeing the two, a white youth with pimples on his face walked over to ask, "Good afternoon, can I help you?"

Hans said, "Where’s your boss, Maurice? I’m from the Treasure Hunting a.s.sociation. I’ve talked with him on the phone. I have brought something that he likes."

The white youth asked him for the last four digits of his phone number, and after leaving, he soon returned with a white old man with a prominent belly.

"Hi, Hans, you’re finally here. You said you had something that I like? What did you bring?" The old man shook hands with them and went straight to the main topic.

Li Du liked doing business with these kinds of people; they were quick and direct.

Hans made a call, and G.o.dzilla walked in with a large box.

Maurice whistled and said, "That gun is in there? I have a few doubts about this, it weighs 139 pounds!"

"That guy’s the descendant of Hercules," Li Du patted G.o.dzilla’s bulky arms and said.

Maurice said, "That, I believe."

Behind the gun store was a wide and s.p.a.cious shooting range. There were dozens of people shooting there; the deafening sounds from the gunshots sounded out constantly.

Maurice brought them to a clean corner and opened the box to reveal the Type 92 HMG.

Seeing the gun, Maurice brought some tools and stripped down the gun skilfully. He then examined the parts carefully.

After half an hour, he raised his head and said, "It’s a good baby. Big Fox, you did something good this time."

"This gun is original, right?"

"Every part is—even the screws are the originals from the j.a.panese." Maurice nodded in satisfaction.

Hearing that, Hans laughed and asked, "So how much are you willing to pay to keep it?"

Maurice said, "You know how I am. I don’t misreport my prices. If it can fire, I’ll give you 55,000 dollars. If it can’t, then take it away. I don’t keep junk!"

Li Du was surprised; Hans had estimated that it was worth about 40,000 dollars. He hadn’t expected Maurice to give such a high offer.

Even Hans was surprised. "Fifty-five thousand? To be honest, that’s pretty high. Why that price?"

Maurice flipped over the support and pointed to the bottom. "Look here, it has an ident.i.ty."

At the bottom of the support stand, there was an aluminum plate. On it, were a series of letters: アルファ (First Division)

"First Division?" Li Du only recognized these letters; the ones after he couldn’t read. Hans was even worse, and couldn’t understand any of it.

Maurice nodded his head and said, "Right, this gun belonged to the First Division. For many Americans, their dads, husbands, and children were killed by these sons of b*tches!"

At the latter half of the Pacific War, the situation deteriorated rapidly, and the First Division of the j.a.panese Military was deployed in Leyte.

In 1944, on the first of November, the First Division landed miraculously on the west sh.o.r.e of Leyte. They were preparing to set up camp in Calubian to attack the Tacloban city, but the American troops from the east sh.o.r.e had already taken control of Tacloban.

In 1944, on the fifth of November, the Americans encountered the First Division in Leyte Valley. Afterwards, for 50 days, the First Division and the American troops had a stalemate of attacking and defending.

This division was extremely vicious and fought a b.l.o.o.d.y battle with the American troops, who had the advantage in terrain, numbers, and artillery. In the end, the 15,000 troops from the First Division went down to only 800.

The Type 92 reaped many lives of the American troops in that battle, which boosted its notoriety.

Due to that, the First Division’s Type 92 was much more valuable than the others.