The components for his firearm were slowly taking shape, yet Caelum knew he was far from finished. He needed gunpowder, and for that, he had to be creative. His eyes roved over the prison, searching for anything that could be of use.
Caelum's gaze was sharp and calculating as he surveyed his surroundings, the ticking clock in the back of his mind urging him to move quickly yet efficiently. He needed to gather materials for gunpowder, and he knew that time was of the essence.
First on the list was potassium nitrate. Caelum's eyes scrutinized the damp prison walls, looking for any signs of saltpeter crystals. The damp conditions of the prison were not ideal, but they could have caused the growth of these valuable crystals. His fingers traced along the cold, wet stone, feeling for the gritty texture of saltpeter. When he found a small patch, his expression remained impassive, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He meticulously scraped off the crystals, collecting them in a makeshift container he had fashioned from a discarded piece of cloth.
However, Caelum was well aware that the amount he could gather from the walls would not be sufficient. He needed a long-term alternative. His mind raced, running through the possibilities until it landed on the solution—straw and urine. The prison was filthy, and there was an abundance of straw on the floor. He collected a handful, his face betraying no sign of disgust, and set it aside to decompose. As for the urine, he had no qualms about using his own. In his previous life, he had done far worse in the name of survival.
Next, he needed charcoal. Caelum's eyes fell on the wooden meal utensils and parts of the prison structure. He chose a piece of wood, analyzing its potential before deciding it was suitable. He needed to burn the wood to create charcoal, but he had to do it without drawing attention to himself. His movements were precise as he started a small, controlled fire, his eyes never leaving the flame. He could feel the frustration building up as the process took longer than he had anticipated, but he pushed it down, remaining focused on the task at hand.
As the wood burned, Caelum prepared himself for the next step. Sulfur was typically a key component in gunpowder, but he knew it was unlikely to be found in the prison. Caelum meticulously ground the potassium nitrate against the hard surface, using a stone he had found in his surroundings. His movements were measured and deliberate, ensuring the crystals were ground to a fine powder. Every so often, he would pause to inspect his work, his eyes scrutinizing the consistency of the powder.
Next, he turned his attention to the charcoal. He had managed to create a controlled burn, turning the wood into charcoal without drawing any unwanted attention. The smell of burnt wood lingered in the air, but Caelum paid it no mind. He picked up a piece of the charcoal, examining it closely before he began grinding it into a powder just like the potassium nitrate.
He worked in silence, the only sounds in the room being the scraping of the stone against the hard surface and the occasional crackle of the dying embers from the burnt wood. There was a glint in his eye—a spark of determination and focus.
As he mixed the potassium nitrate and the charcoal, he was meticulous, ensuring the two substances were combined evenly. He was aware that the absence of sulfur would affect the potency of the gunpowder, but he had no other option. He had to make do with what he had. The knowledge from his previous life as a ruthless operative came to the fore, guiding his hands as he worked.
He kept the traditional ratios in mind, aiming for a 75:15 mix of potassium nitrate to charcoal. He knew this would at least ensure a rapid burn, if not an explosive one. His movements were steady as he mixed the substances, his eyes never leaving his work.
Once satisfied with the mix, Caelum took a moment to survey his work. He had managed to create a semblance of gunpowder, despite the less than ideal conditions.
Caelum stored the mix in a safe, dry spot, away from any dampness or external reactive agents. He knew that moisture would ruin the gunpowder, rendering his efforts useless. His movements were precise as he ensured the gunpowder was securely stored, leaving nothing to chance.
With the gunpowder prepared, Caelum turned his attention back to the other components of his makeshift firearm. He picked up the piece of wood he had set aside earlier, ready to carve it into a handle. His hands moved steadily, his eyes focused on the task at hand. The rough shape of the wood began to take form under his skilled hands, slowly transforming into a handle.
Caelum's hands moved with a steady determination as he selected a piece of Steel Bamboo that had once formed the cage of the mother Umbrawolf. His eyes scanned over the material, assessing its strength and potential as a barrel for his makeshift firearm. With precision, he evaluated each section of the bamboo, ensuring there were no cracks or imperfections that could jeopardize the structural integrity once a bullet was fired.
Caelum turned his attention to creating the loading port. He measured and marked the bamboo carefully, determining the best position for safely loading the gunpowder and projectile. His hands were steady, his movements deliberate, as he carved out the loading port. He worked meticulously, ensuring the port was smooth and free of any jagged edges that could pose a risk during use.
With the loading port completed, Caelum set the bamboo aside, his gaze now shifting to the gunpowder he had meticulously prepared earlier. He retrieved the mix, his movements precise as he ensured that none of the precious substance was wasted. As he loaded the gunpowder into the bamboo, he was reminded of the countless times he had done this in his previous life, the muscle memory kicking in despite the vastly different circumstances.
His fingers worked efficiently, loading the gunpowder with a practiced ease. The absence of sulfur weighed on his mind, the knowledge that the gunpowder's potency was compromised, gnawing at him.
With the gunpowder loaded, Caelum turned his attention to the projectile. His eyes scanned the pile of discarded items he had gathered earlier, searching for something suitable. His gaze landed on a small, hard object, and he picked it up, weighing it in his hand.
Then, his hand then went to his pocket, fingers brushing against a familiar object. It was his sister's hairpin, delicate yet with a pointed end – a gift he had kept close ever since his transmigration. Pulling it out, he looked at it for a moment before muttering, "Let's avenge you together, eh, sis?" His voice was soft, barely audible, yet it carried a weight of determination and resolve.
Deciding to use the hairpin as the projectile, Caelum carefully placed it in the bamboo tube. He knew that its small size and pointed end could potentially make it a lethal weapon at close range. To ensure the hairpin and gunpowder were tightly packed without gaps, he added a wadding using a piece of cloth, packing it down as best as he could.
With everything in place, Caelum took a deep breath, his eyes focusing outside of his prison, for his target. He knew he needed to get close, the lack of sulfur in the gunpowder meant that the projectile would not have the same propulsion as a traditional firearm.