CHAPTER 161: CHAPTER 161: CHANNEL_1

Under these circumstances, his best and only choice was to form a musket squad. Such squads weren’t too demanding to train, could be assembled quickly, and possessed respectable combat capabilities. He would use musket troops as the core of his forces, then select soldiers with exceptional talent from their ranks to be trained as Cavalry and Heavy Armored Greatsword Fighters for special situations. If he didn’t use the money to strengthen his forces now, would he end up using it for reparations later? Lance certainly didn’t want to suffer such a loss.

Previously, clerks in other stores would approach him to introduce and promote their products as soon as he entered. Here, however, he’d been inside for a long while with no response.

"You, come introduce these guns to me."

"Isn’t the price listed right there? Can’t you even understand that?" The clerk looked up lazily, glancing at Lance standing by the cheapest shelf, his expression somewhat disdainful.

Lance’s expression darkened. Even in this era, firearms had different models, and the variations between them could be significant. These variations included weight, range, standard powder charge, shell size, destructive power at various distances, and even the design philosophy behind each gun. He needed more detailed information about the firearms. How could one discern all that from a mere price tag?If they didn’t understand, they should just say so; he wouldn’t mind. But the look in their eyes conveyed an inexplicable arrogance, as if they were looking down on him.Regardless of his own identity, even if he were an ordinary person, what right did a clerk like this have to look down on a customer?

Lance was not an easygoing person. He immediately intensified his tone as he spoke to the clerk, "I told you to come over and introduce these firearms to me."

The clerk seemed to sense something was amiss but showed no respect, instead uttering a sarcastic remark. "Look around. Where else outside this door will you find better guns? If you have no money, stop being picky. Take it or leave it."

Lance couldn’t believe the clerk dared to say such a thing. Where did he get such confidence?If this were his territory, this guy would have already turned into experience points.

"Who gave you the guts to speak to me like this? Get your store manager out here, now!"

Lance’s roar startled the clerk and caused a stir among those in the back. Shortly after, a shrewd-looking middle-aged man with a drooping mustache walked out. A single glance told him the visitor was extraordinary, and he hurried over.

"Hello, esteemed guest. I am the manager here. Is there a problem?"

"This guy is causing trouble! Doesn’t he know where he is?" Before Lance could speak, the clerk interjected, pushing the blame onto him.

"I’m here for a bulk order, but your clerk seems quite displeased with my presence." Lance calmly recounted the events, not forgetting to add a sarcastic remark at the end. "Every other workshop on this street has customers coming and going, yet yours is empty. Before I came in, I wondered if the quality of your goods was too poor. Now I understand. There’s a dog tied to the door; no wonder nobody dares to approach."

"What do you mean! Who are you calling a dog?" The clerk, also quick-tempered, flared up at the provocation. If not for the counter between them, he probably would have attacked.

"So you admit you’re a dog." A faint smile touched Lance’s lips. He was unfazed by the threat, his sarcastic tone unwavering.

The store manager quickly grasped the situation. Although he couldn’t scold the clerk directly, he hurried to defuse things, sent the clerk inside, and then turned to apologize to Lance. "I’m terribly sorry. He’s new and doesn’t know any better."

"I don’t care. If you don’t deal with him today, then I’ll make it your problem."

Lance spoke arrogantly and recklessly, leaving the store manager somewhat stunned. The manager couldn’t understand why this man dared to speak so boldly, but considering the potential status involved, he still offered a word of caution. "He is a student of the Gun and Cannon Academy."

The implication was not about the student’s identity but the Gun and Cannon Academy’s backing. Why could the clerk act so arrogantly and get away with it? It was because this shop was an enterprise of the Gun and Cannon Academy, which was an official institution of Totnes. People trying to make a living here wouldn’t dare offend officials over such a trivial matter. Likewise, an institution with such a substantial backing didn’t care about sales figures. The clerk felt no pressure; in fact, fewer customers meant less work for him. This combination of factors allowed him to be arrogant. However, he had likely been using his connections to bully people for so long that he forgot they feared the officials backing him, not him personally. This time, he encountered Lance, someone utterly fearless, and was instantly put in his place.

"So what if he’s a student? Does that give him some special status?" Lance’s lips curled into a mocking smile. Someone working here probably doesn’t have that strong a background anyway. As he spoke, he rapped his knuckles on the counter, staring at the manager. "I was referred by an acquaintance who said you have good things here. You should know what I mean. But if you don’t fire him today, I’ll go to the Gun and Cannon Academy and demand an explanation."

"Haha, you must be joking," the manager said, his expression awkward, feigning ignorance.

"Enough with the act." Lance pursed his lips, unimpressed. He pulled out a pouch and placed it on the counter. The sharp clink of metal immediately seized the manager’s attention.

Lance got straight to the point and stated his demands: two hundred short-barreled muskets, five hundred long-barreled finished muskets, five hundred sets of matching spare parts for repairs, and gunpowder and shells by the thousand-pound unit.

"May I ask your line of work, sir?" The manager was also curious about Lance’s identity. Although this store was a factory-affiliated outlet on this street, it primarily served retail customers buying one or two items. Even Mercenary Corps typically ordered only ten or twenty. This was because genuine bulk buyers didn’t use this channel; they dealt directly with the factories or the Gun and Cannon Academy. Yet this young man was asking for so much right away—enough to equip a five-hundred-strong musket squad, the kind of force a city defense force would have.

"Don’t you understand the rules of this business? In any case, they won’t be used around here, so you can rest assured." Lance’s expression was neutral, but his glance towards the manager held an inexplicable arrogance.

However, the middle-aged man was quite receptive to this. This demeanor, coupled with the funds, undoubtedly indicated Nobility. Class consciousness was deeply ingrained in their minds. Realizing this, the manager’s attitude immediately became more respectful. "Of course not," he replied.

The manager became enthusiastic and renegotiated the price. However, through official channels, they only had one hundred long-barreled muskets and some gunpowder. The remainder would come through another channel.

The Walter Conglomerate incident had made it clear: no one was without greed; it was merely a matter of degree. Clearly, this manager was such a person. He used his position to procure some quality goods. After all, losses were normal—improper storage leading to spoilage, gunpowder getting damp, not to mention items ’lost’ right after leaving the factory. There were always excuses. These items were essentially pure profit; whatever price they fetched was earnings, so the price could be pushed down to half the original.

But as this was Lance’s first time making such a deal, he only managed to secure them at seventy percent of the original price, still saving several hundred Gold Coins. And now that this channel was established, future prices could be negotiated even lower, as long as this practice continued, provided the manager wasn’t caught, of course.