"Oh, alright, I’ll admit, it's impressive."

Seeing her dual-wielding automatic pistols, each loaded with rounds of opposing elements, crafted with a distinctively old-fashioned design from the 20th century, made me feel a tinge of nervousness.

Moreover, seeing her equipped with such romantic, impractical weapons made me wonder if I’d missed something in choosing my own equipment.

The bolt-action rifle I carried, with its wooden stock and barrel cover, would probably be considered a vintage charm in the 21st century. But by early 20th-century standards—when plastic wasn’t commonly used in mass production—it was just another common rifle. Plus, mine was a standard model used by the Imperial Army, making it even less unique. Truthfully, the main reason I chose it was because it was the easiest to find ammunition for within the Empire.

Strictly speaking, a shotgun wasn’t a "chivalrous" weapon, but I’d picked mine purely for its practicality. It was just a typical pump-action shotgun with nothing special about its design.

If I had to pick something for its aesthetic, the only one that came to mind was the Wexler revolver. But even this was widely used by the military, so it didn’t seem particularly vintage or unique from anyone else’s perspective.

The two Koch 98 pistols that Lena uses are standard military equipment in the autonomous region, though they’re unfamiliar to the Empire and have a distinct look associated with other nations.

Dual-wielding pistols might not be considered unusual by 20th-century standards. Back then, pistols were widely seen as one-handed firearms—a perception rooted in the character for "fist" in the Korean term or the term "handgun" in English. The implication in this world might be, "That person must be confident in their shooting skills," if they could handle a gun in each hand. Lena, for example, was actually quite skilled.

However…

Even though I've spent over a decade in this world and have adapted fairly well, the image of dual pistols in my mind was still part of that romantic ideal. Why else would an impractical "akimbo" feature be so prevalent in FPS games? The sight of blazing away with a gun in each hand is undeniably thrilling. Even if it’s inefficient in reality, people still want to see it in games.

Honestly, I even started to suspect if Lena already knew my secret.

I wondered if she, too, was a reincarnated human like me, and had recognized Sylvia Fangriffon, a character not present in the original story, and decided to play along for fun.

Yet, after a few days of observing Lena after classes, I found nothing out of the ordinary. In her room, she’d either be hugging a doll, practicing stances as she walked, or rolling around on her bed, carefully crafting her character.

Watching from outside the window, I wanted to ask her to at least close it, but doing so would reveal the fact I’d been observing her.

…Then again, who else would prepare high-powered binoculars to meticulously observe the window of a teenage girl?

…Right.

On that day, I decided to stop observing Lena altogether.

---

"Are you asking me to process all of this into bullets?"

The artisan at the workshop gave me a slightly bewildered look.

"Is it not possible?"

"No, that’s not the issue…."

He eyed me carefully and spoke with a hint of caution.

"You, uh… seem quite worn out."

Of course, I am.

Leo and Claire formed an unbeatable pair, relentlessly taking on slightly stronger beasts or quests every weekend with boundless energy. Recently, they’d even recruited two additional people, rotating them as needed, which seemed to mimic the original story’s quest mechanics.

As a result, I had to wake up insanely early and run around tirelessly just to scavenge a small piece of Marmaross.

Additionally, I scoured areas without mentioning anything to anyone—locations I remembered that would later become dungeons. Though I hadn’t fully cleared any of them solo, I had been to every place where I thought I might find Marmaross.

I’d collected enough of it that it was probably a bit much for one individual to bring to a workshop.

If I converted it all to bullets, I guessed I’d have around twenty rounds. Just a rough estimate based on the bullet size and the individual pieces of Marmaross.

"...Something like that happened."

"Is that so…."

The artisan seemed to think probing any deeper might be risky.

The workshop master gazed down at the Marmaross, rifle, and revolver I’d placed on the table before looking at me with a more serious expression.

"So, what kind of bullets would you like?"

"Hmm."

Practically speaking, revolver rounds would be the best for reloading. They’re easy to load one by one and, if needed, I could use a moon clip to load several at once faster than reloading a rifle.

But to me, the Ergensen rifle was my main weapon.

While I was pondering this alone, the artisan spoke up.

"If you'd like to mix multiple types of rounds, I can make some modifications to the rifle."

"To the rifle?"

"Yes," he said, pointing to the left side of the rifle.

"I could install a magazine cut-off to prevent rounds from automatically chambering. That way, you’d typically shoot from the magazine, but could block it off and use it as a single-shot rifle when needed."

Oh.

That sounded rather practical.

A clip-loading rifle from the WWII era wouldn’t work that way because the loading port and ejection port were the same. But on this rifle, the ammunition loading and shell ejection areas were separate. If I could prevent rounds from entering the chamber, I could use it like a single-shot rifle.

"Marmaross bullets are expensive, after all."

"How long would this modification take?"

"Not long at all. I have some spare military parts."

"Do they really add magazine cut-offs to military rifles?"

"There was a time, back when manufacturing bullets was much harder. For commanders, every wasted bullet fired into the air was like throwing away money. But they didn’t want to distribute only single-shot rifles, so they made repeating rifles with a magazine cut-off feature. Nowadays, it just adds extra cost."

"I see," I nodded. "Please, go ahead with it."

"Understood."

"And…."

The workshop master, about to start on the work, looked back at me as I added another request.

"Do you have any reliable automatic pistols?"

"An automatic pistol? Don’t you have the Wexler?"

"Well…."

I hesitated for a moment. Realistically, reliability wouldn’t differ much, and in fact, the more complex mechanism of the Model 98 would likely have a higher chance of malfunctioning.

Still… if possible, I wanted something that looked more like a weapon.

"If you’re hoping for revolver-level reliability, I’d have to say there’s nothing like that available right now."

"I see."

I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask if there was a prettier gun, so I just nodded. The workshop master fell into a moment of thought before making up his mind.

"If you’d like, Your Highness…."

Then, after glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, he lowered his voice.

"I’ve heard a rumor that a new standard military sidearm might soon be designated."

That was news to me. If it were true, it likely came from Jennifer, who held the artisan in high regard.

"Ahem. So… on the off chance it happens, I’ve developed a prototype."

When I remained silent, urging him to continue, the workshop master hesitantly opened a drawer and placed a gun on the table.

"It has a slightly larger caliber than the standard ammunition, and I’ve simplified the structure as much as possible. One round fits in the chamber, and seven in the magazine—making it an eight-shot weapon with more firepower than an eight-round revolver of a smaller caliber."

"…."

I picked up the gun as if hypnotized. It was quite heavy, probably over a kilogram. But since it wasn’t significantly different from my revolver’s weight, it didn’t seem to be an issue.

It looked like a classic automatic pistol with a slide.

To put it simply, it was the kind of gun that typically comes to mind when one thinks of a "pistol." With even a slight interest in firearms, anyone would recognize it as a .45-caliber automatic pistol. The hammer protruding from the slide was a design detail that added a bit of old-world charm, giving the pistol an air of dignity.

"It even has two safeties, as per military requirements. The grip safety prevents the trigger from being pulled if—"

"Workshop master."

"Y-yes, Your Highness?"

I interrupted, catching him off guard. His voice was laced with the fear of possible punishment for having used leaked information to create the weapon.

Examining the gun from all angles, I continued.

"Now that I think about it, I don’t know your name. May I ask what it is?"

When Jennifer introduced him, she’d only mentioned him as a "skilled workshop master" and provided directions.

"Ah, yes."

Momentarily flustered by the unexpected question, he hesitated before answering.

"My name is James Browning."

Browning.

…Was he not being a bit too obvious with that name?