"This is the Interceptor Crossbow. Twenty thousand, non-negotiable," Sidney Reynolds declared, keeping a close eye on Logan's reaction.
He was testing the waters—hoping that the young man in front of him wouldn't know better and might fall for the inflated price.
Logan didn't budge, his expression turning displeased as he retorted, "A sniper rifle costs only a few thousand, and you want twenty thousand for a crossbow? The Interceptor retails for around eight thousand dollars in the Tower Nation. Let's be reasonable. I'm planning to buy quite a bit, and I won't let you walk away empty-handed."
He couldn't afford to be seen as an easy mark, not with so many more things he needed to buy.
Sidney chuckled, not the least bit embarrassed. "Where the hell did you come from, kid? Fine, fine. I'll give you a fair price—ten thousand. But bear in mind, it wasn't easy getting my hands on this thing. I had to pull a lot of strings to bring it in."
"Six thousand."
"Nine thousand. Not a penny less."
"Six thousand five."
…
After some back and forth, they finally settled on eight thousand.
Logan also bought fifty arrows to go with the crossbow. Since arrows were reusable, Sidney hadn't stocked many more than that, or else Logan would have purchased even more.
Next came the bullets for the Type 54 pistol.
Logan took all of Sidney's inventory—two thousand rounds.
The shop had an impressive array of items, from various models of sniper rifles, assault rifles, and handguns, to an assortment of other firearms. But apart from the Type 54, Logan only selected two AK-47s and matching ammunition.
Initially, Logan had considered asking for a few of Xia Country's assault rifles, known for their reliability in harsh environments. However, Sidney explained that those were nearly impossible to acquire.
Logan didn't bother with any other firearms. Precision rifles, sniper rifles, and most high-maintenance guns would be practically useless in the extreme cold. The very precision that made them effective would become a liability in freezing conditions, where thermal expansion and contraction could cause parts to jam, and gun oil would thicken, increasing resistance. The more intricate the weapon, the more likely it was to malfunction, or even crack, in such severe cold.
Simple and rugged firearms like the Type 54, though less sophisticated, could still function under such conditions.
As for the AK-47, its legendary durability in extreme environments made it an obvious choice.
However, even these wouldn't last long without proper maintenance. The cold would significantly reduce their operational lifespan, requiring frequent upkeep after just a few shots. In the end, guns were more of a deterrent than a reliable weapon.
For hunting and scavenging, cold weapons would be far more effective.
The post-apocalyptic world would be a time of resurgence for cold weapons.
Finally, Logan picked out three Nepalese kukris and three combat knives.
Sidney tried to sell him on a Tang Dao, a type of traditional Xia Country sword that had recently gained popularity online, but Logan declined.
"I thought you young guys loved these kinds of swords," Sidney muttered.
The Tang Dao had indeed become trendy in recent years for its sharpness, but Logan knew better. The blade was too straight and long, making it prone to breaking when striking hard surfaces or other weapons in subzero temperatures.
Logan smiled but didn't bother explaining. Instead, he asked, "Do you take special orders?"
Sidney confidently replied, "Name it. As long as it's not something huge, I can get it for you."
"I need the best military-grade cold-weather gear—jackets, boots, gloves, helmets. The top-tier stuff, the kind that'll keep you alive in temperatures well below freezing. Can you get that?"
Sidney's eyes widened.
Top-tier military cold-weather gear was no joke. A full set, with all its components, could easily cost over ten thousand per set, designed for combat in extreme conditions.
Then Logan added a number, "I'll need fifty sets, all in my size."
Fifty sets?!
Sidney's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What, you planning to start a war?"
Where was this kid getting all this money?
Logan kept a straight face as he lied, "I'm preparing for a long stay in Antarctica."
Sidney obviously didn't believe that, but as Logan listed out the rest of his requirements, Sidney began to wonder if there was some truth to it.
"I'll need five sets of thermal night vision goggles, twenty military-grade radios, twenty cold-resistant single-person tents, and fifty military sleeping bags."
"And while you're at it, get me a few more military crossbows like the Interceptor, along with plenty of arrows. As for the bullets, get me as many as you can."
Sidney quickly did the math. The total value of everything Logan was asking for easily surpassed a million.
"If you want to place an order for that much, I'll need at least a hundred thousand in deposit—cash or gold only."
It was a reasonable demand, and Logan nodded in agreement. "I'll be back tonight."
He still had plenty of gold in the Cornucopia, but he couldn't just pull it out in front of Sidney.
After agreeing on the arrangements, Logan left the shop with a hiking backpack that Sidney had thrown in as a bonus.
As soon as Logan was gone, Sidney went back to assembling the crossbow for Harold.
But Harold couldn't resist asking, "So, Sid, is this kid worth squeezing?"
"Don't even think about it, Harold," Sidney warned.
He couldn't quite figure out Logan, and he didn't want to cause any trouble.
When he had asked for the deposit, Logan hadn't hesitated for even a second.
Someone who could casually throw around that much cash or gold to buy so much equipment wasn't an ordinary person.
And more importantly, Sidney had never seen a young man exude such calm and composure.
Harold fell silent, but a dark look flashed in his eyes.
…
Back in his car, Logan glanced around to ensure there were no cameras nearby, then stored his new gear in the Cornucopia.
That evening, after dinner, Logan retrieved five pounds of gold from the Cornucopia and returned to Sidney's shop.
The eastern suburbs were even more silent at night, adding to the sense of isolation.
Logan handed over the gold to Sidney for inspection.
After verifying the gold, Sidney nodded. "Alright. When the goods arrive, you can pay the balance."
"Got it."
Logan wasn't worried about being scammed. Sidney had a solid reputation in the post-apocalyptic world for delivering quality goods. His prices were high, but he always provided the real deal.
As Logan turned to leave, Sidney called out, "Hold on."
Logan paused, then understood immediately.
"Thanks," he said simply.
"Be careful tonight," Sidney had advised.
In the quiet of the night, Logan could only be careful of one thing—other people.
Driving through the quiet streets, Logan kept his speed moderate.
Soon enough, he hit the brakes.
Ahead of him, a line of spikes had been laid across the road.
Logan's eyes narrowed.
He shifted into reverse, stepped on the gas, and backed up swiftly.
At the last intersection he had passed, Logan spun the wheel and headed down a different route.
His reaction caught his would-be ambushers off guard.
They had expected him to either get out to get rid of the spikes or to try and drive over them.
No one had anticipated that he would simply turn and flee.
Not far from where the spikes had been laid, Harold, dressed in black and wearing a motorcycle helmet, was waiting in an alley for his prey to fall into the trap.
Seeing Logan's sudden retreat, Harold cursed loudly and revved his engine, giving chase.