Nighthawk Gun Shop.

This shop is located in a street-side store in downtown Los Angeles. The shop is not very large, only about fifty or sixty square meters, with two potted pine trees at the entrance.

Inside the shop are all kinds of 1911 pistols in various colors and combinations of accessories. There's nothing you can imagine that can't be done.

At the shop counter, an old man with gray hair was eating peanuts. He looked up at Luke and said, "Hey, tough guy, good afternoon."

Luke got straight to the point, "I want a customized 1911."

The gray-haired old man tossed the remaining peanuts into his mouth, clapped his hands, first wiped his hands with a wet wipe, then dried them with a special towel, "Tell me your requirements."

Luke said, "I'm a law enforcer, often involved in street combat, and I focus more on practicality.

First, it must have powerful firepower, stable performance, a good grip feeling. The overall performance should lean towards the M1911A1 with some more user-friendly modifications based on that."

The gray-haired old man took out a black leather notebook and jotted it down, "Sir, what's your budget?"

"No budget."

"Custom pistols might be a bit pricey."

"As long as the performance is superior, price is not an issue."

"Will you carry the pistol often?"

"Never leave my side."

"Do you need any special sights?"

"No need."

"OK, I'll introduce you to a few pistols. You can try them out for their feel. If you think they're suitable, we can then match the pistol's appearance and color."

"Alright."

Subsequently, the old man took a double-barreled pistol from the shelf and placed it on the counter, then went to pick other guns.

Luke picked up the double-barreled pistol, which was wider than the ordinary handguns and looked rather interesting.

The gray-haired old man introduced, "This gun can fire two bullets at once, with a capacity of 14 bullets. It's very powerful, but the drawback is the recoil is a bit strong."

Luke chambered the gun and felt it briefly before placing it back on the counter, "The grip feeling isn't good."

The old man put the double-barreled pistol away and successively took out five pistols, each modified based on the 1911, with different focuses in performance, more user-friendly.

Luke tried out the remaining five pistols, all with a good grip feel, "Can I try them out?"

"Sure, please follow me."

The gray-haired old man called a young man in his twenties to watch the store, and he himself took Luke to the basement.

The basement was much larger than the shop above, with two fixed targets and a small live-fire training range.

Luke loaded the bullets, tried each of the five pistols, all with good performance. Luke carefully compared them and selected the two with the best performance.

He then used those two pistols for live-fire training and finally chose the most suitable Nighthawk 1911.

This gun was 209 millimeters long, one centimeter shorter than the M1911A1. Don't underestimate this one centimeter; changing the shape of a pistol without altering its performance is tough.

It used a special corrosion-resistant alloy, making it lighter. The grip had an anti-slip texture for a comfortable feel, and the trigger was very responsive, with optimal performance in every aspect.

Luke asked, "How long will it take to customize this gun?"

"Does this gun model need any further improvements?"

"No need."

"Would you like to engrave any characters or patterns on the gun?"

"I hope I can have my initials engraved."

The gray-haired old man took out a tablet, "Choose the color of the pistol."

Luke scrolled through the tablet, with many color options. He immediately excluded some overly flashy colors, choosing a black barrel and dark brown grip.

The gray-haired old man said, "The pistol doesn't need many improvements, it can be completed in about five days. It will take two days to ship from Berryville, so in total it'll be a week.

You can come to pick up the gun in seven days."

"How much is it?"

"This Nighthawk 1911 is customized with special alloy, sturdy, wear-resistant, and lightweight. The craftsmanship is very refined, so the price is a bit higher, 7000 US Dollars."

The price is indeed not cheap, but this is a tool for survival, crucial at critical moments, so Luke wouldn't be stingy, "Any discount?"

"Our prices have always been such, but I can offer a matching holster, two spare magazines, and seventy rounds of bullets."

"Seventy rounds aren't enough. After getting the gun, I still need to familiarize myself with its performance and feel."

"I can add on 140 bullets."

"Deal." After all, it's for survival, Luke didn't intend to haggle.

The two discussed some details about the customized pistol.

When leaving the Nighthawk Gun Shop, it was already past three in the afternoon.

The sun was still high in the sky, and Luke was parched after all the talking, not even having a sip of water.

At the corner, there was a convenience store. Luke wanted to go buy a bottle of water to drink.

Just as he walked to the entrance of the convenience store, a ten-year-old black kid came running over. As they brushed past each other, a small black hand reached for Luke's coat pocket.

The movement was very subtle, hard for the average person to notice, but Luke's observation far exceeded the ordinary, and he noticed the abnormality instantly, grabbing the black kid's arm, "Hey, kid, your hand's in the wrong place."

The black kid had just touched Luke's coat pocket when he was caught red-handed, "Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to."

"Do you know where the nearest police station is?"

The black kid showed a nervous expression, "Sir, please don't take me to the police station.