CHAPTER 98: CHAPTER 97: TURNING GUNS INTO DOLLARS

Earth-side—

Kael unlocked the shed door and stepped inside, letting it swing shut behind him.

Everything was exactly as he’d left it.

He now needed another 200 gold coins—that means $200,000—to buy the inn.

The old things were thrown away from his house, and the things he had in the house now were necessary for him. That is, he could not sell them now. So he came to the shed. Where the weapons were kept.

There were too many weapons here—more than he could ever realistically use. It wasn’t like I was planning to start a war. I just needed enough to defend myself if things went bad over there.

He walked over to the first crate and knelt down, a long, squat wooden box reinforced with steel bands. The latch groaned under pressure as he unhooked it, then lifted the lid with both hands. Hinges creaked. Inside were AK-47s, wrapped in foam and oiled cloth.

He picked up one AK-47. Reliable. Battle-tested. He examined the bolt, checked the chamber, clicked it back into place.

"Hmm, I already have an AK-47. But I should keep another one as a backup, since it’s a great gun. Damn Kalashnikov. I still can’t believe some Soviet tank guy made this without a damn engineering degree."

He takes out four AK 47s from it.

"Legend built a legend, I guess."

Then Kael moved to the next wooden box and cracked it open.

Inside—three MP5s.

A grin tugged at his lips.

"Now this... this is art."

He lifted one with care, feeling its familiar weight in his hands. The MP5—Heckler & Koch’s legendary submachine gun. It was lighter than the AK, more elegant, precise. The kind of gun that whispered death rather than screamed it.

"9mm," he said to himself. "Low recoil. Tight grouping."

He flicked the selector switch—semi, full auto. German engineering at its best.

"This little bastard’s been used by everyone from special forces to counter-terror units. SAS, Navy SEALs... Hell, even movie villains love it." He smirked. "I get why. It’s just so much fun to shoot. Controlled bursts, smooth draw, and barely kicks. Makes you feel like a surgeon on a battlefield."

He inspected the retractable stock, pressed the bolt release, felt it snap forward.

"Hmmm, still good." He looked over at the AK. "You’re a beast. But this—this is finesse."

"Hmm, although I have no intention of selling it... I need the money, and I have no choice but to do it now. Sorry, my dear. I’ll just take one."

He put an two MP5 in, leaving only one MP5s in the box now.

Kael then took out a large wooden rectangular crate and pried open its sealed lid.

Inside—rows of ammunition.

Bullets—hundreds of them. For the AKs, the MP5s, and whatever else he’d find. Neatly packed in boxes, labeled by caliber and type.

Kael took out several boxes of ammunition, setting them aside with care. The wooden cases were well-sealed, each marked with manufacture dates from decades ago—but the contents were still pristine.

Next, he spotted two long crates stacked near the back of the shed. One was already marked in faded stenciling: RPG-7.

He opened them carefully, lifting the lid with slow, steady hands. Inside lay two rocket-propelled grenade launchers, each wrapped in treated cloth and padded with foam blocks. Their shape was unmistakable—tube, sights, trigger group. Soviet-era design, crude and deadly.

Kael studied them for a moment. He didn’t need both.

"I’ll keep one," he muttered. "Just in case"

He resealed one box and set it aside. The other joined the growing pile in the center of the shed.

One by one, he opened every crate left in the shed, keeping the ones he needed and throwing out the rest.

After all of that he let out a breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Then he lifted his right hand and spread his fingers toward the pile.

"Dimensional Exchange," he said aloud.

The air thickened. A faint pressure pushed outward from his skin. Glyphs—barely visible to the naked eye—formed in a tight circle above the items.

『Dimensional Exchange Activated』

『Exchange requires equivalent value. Processing...』

Each weapon began to glow faintly as the system analyzed them.

Text began to scroll in Kael’s vision—or perhaps in the air.

『Item: AK-47 (x4) – Condition: Excellent | Cold War Origin

Value: $2,200 each – Total: $8,800』

『Item: MP5 (x2) – Condition: Excellent | Military Silenced Variant

Value: $6,000 each – Total: $12,000』

『Item: M16 Rifle (x3) – Condition: Good – Standard-Issue

Fully Automatic Capability | Vietnam-Era Model

Value: $3,500 each – Total: $10,500』

『Item: M67 Fragmentation Grenade (x3) – Operational |

Value: $450 each – Total: $1,350』

『Item: 9mm FMJ Ammo (x400 rounds) – Condition: Good

Estimated Value: $0.40/round → $160 total』

『Item: 7.62x39mm Ammo (x300 rounds) – Condition: Good

Estimated Value: $0.35/round → $105 total

『Item: RPG-7 Launcher – Condition: Preserved – Inert Warhead

Soviet-Era Anti-Armor Platform

Value: $4,800』

『Item: 12-Gauge Pump Shotgun – Condition: Lesser Good

Estimated Value: $500』

『Item: 12-gauge Shells (x80) – Condition: Good

00 Buckshot |

Estimated Value: $0.80/round → $64 total』

The blue light pulsed. A hum filled the room.

The weapons shimmered—and began to vanish. One by one, the glow swallowed them whole. No trace left.

Then, with a soft thump, something dropped into his open palm.

Kael looked down.

Stacks of U.S. currency. Bundled in fresh rubber bands. Hundreds, twenties. Government-grade printing. As crisp as if they just came off a Federal Reserve press.

『Exchange Complete – Total Delivered Value: $38,279』

Kael then let out a sigh. Ah, that’s barely one-fifth of what I need.

"Tch," he clicked his tongue in frustration. "And here I was, starting to think of myself as a rich man. But now... now I have no idea where I’m going to find the remaining $161,721."

♦♦♦

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