After moving to the Mercenary Legion portal and clicking on the Jobs section, the system directed Rion to a list of available assignments. Most of the jobs were low-level, involving bodyguard duties, package delivery, or basic surveillance.
He browsed through them, noting the details and rewards for each. None of these tasks seemed particularly challenging or rewarding, but he kept them in mind as potential backup options.
Moving over to the bounty section, he saw the list of targets and their respective bounties. Some of the accumulated bounties had even reached astronomical prices but they were mostly impossible targets such as heads of nations, high level mutated beasts, or powerful cultivators. These assignments only looked good on the list; no sane person would really attempt to do them.
After finishing his coffee, he decided to explore the rest of the lounge. He passed through the cafe, where a few mercenaries were engrossed in their laptops, and made his way to the restaurant area, where he ordered a light breakfast.
As he was eating, he felt a gaze settled squarely on him. He raised a cup containing water to his mouth and drank from it, subtly looking around in the process. To his left, a burly man with a scar running down the side of his face was in deep conversation with a wiry woman. Both wore tactical gear that had seen better days, their rugged appearance hinting at a wealth of combat experience.
Near the bar, a group of four mercenaries appeared to be engaged in a serious discussion. They were all dressed in sleek, black vests, and their demeanor was calm and professional. One of them, a woman with striking green hair, seemed to be the leader, her authoritative presence commanding the attention of her comrades. They exchanged nods and brief words, occasionally consulting a tablet that likely contained mission details or intel.
At a table near the window, a trio of younger mercenaries were laughing and exchanging stories while cutting into a large piece of steak. One of them, a tall, lanky guy with dyed blue hair, was animatedly gesturing with his hands, his excitement palpable. His companions, a petite man and a stocky man covered in tattoos, listened intently, occasionally chiming in with their own remarks. They had the air of rookies, still fresh-faced and eager, yet to be tempered by the harsh realities of their profession.
At the edge of his peripheral vision though, a lone figure cloaked in black sat in the corner, almost blending into the shadows. He could only make out the gleam of their eyes, which seemed to be settled on him before gradually moving away.
What's his deal? Even if I'm quite handsome, don't keep looking like that…
His instincts told him that this figure might be more than they seemed, but with the gaze moving away, he decided to throw the event to the back of his mind and finished his meal.
Feeling more acclimated to his surroundings, he exited the lounge and made his way out of the building. The city was now fully awake, with people bustling about their daily routines. He blended into the crowd, just another face in the sea of urban life.
Rion navigated through the bustling streets, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the urban landscape. The city's pulse was palpable, a blend of humanity and machinery in constant motion. He spent the day familiarizing himself with the layout of the city and contacting the material suppliers the server had hooked him with.
At one of the supplier's workshop, the smell of metal and oil filled the air. He approached the counter, where a grizzled man with a thick beard and oil-stained hands was inspecting a complex-looking gadget. The man glanced up as Rion placed his order list on the counter.
"You must be new around here," the supplier said, squinting at the list. "Not many folks order these kinds of high-grade materials unless they know what they're doing. You got a name?".
"Forger," he replied, maintaining a neutral tone. "I'm working on some precision projects."
The supplier raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Precision, huh? These materials aren't easy to come by. Or cheap. What exactly are you planning to build?"
Rion met the man's gaze steadily, his expression unreadable. He didn't say a word, simply staring at the supplier. The silence stretched on, growing increasingly awkward.
The supplier shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. "Uh, sorry about that," he finally said, clearing his throat. "Shouldn't have pried. None of my business."
He continued to stare for a moment longer before giving a single nod. The supplier quickly continued, "I have some of these materials in stock, but you'll have to look elsewhere for the rest."
Rion nodded in acknowledgment and reached into his pocket, pulling out the required payment. He handed over the money without a word, his movements precise and deliberate.
The supplier counted the money, his fingers moving swiftly. "Alright, Forger," he said, his tone more respectful. "You can come pick up the materials I have in three days."
He gave another nod and turned to leave. As he walked out of the workshop, the supplier called after him, "Thank you for your business. If you need more, you know where to find me."
Without breaking stride, he raised a hand in a silent farewell, his mind already focused on the next steps of his plan. The city's noise swallowed him as he melted back into the crowd, feeling a mix of anticipation and determination.
As the afternoon began to wane and evening approached, he returned to his hotel room, feeling a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. He had successfully integrated into the Mercenary Legion, a crucial first step and he had bought enough materials to craft two handguns and another bulletproof vest to modify. Now, he needed to start working on his projects and improving his abilities.
Days blurred together as he balanced his time between crafting and rigorous training. Each morning began with physical and origin technique exercises, pushing his body to the brink. His martial arts practice was relentless, each movement calculated, each strike precise. Night time was reserved for energy training, pushing him closer to the boundary of the Early-stage. The room would be silent save for his measured breaths and the occasional groan as his body hit its limitats.
As for the afternoons, he spent time refining the blueprints for his equipment and crafting them. He had gained more knowledge and proficiency compared to the last time he crafted them so the process was smoother and more efficient.
Since he was naturally ambidextrous, he had chosen to craft dual handguns and after handling and training with them for some time, he was able to control them with ease.
With renewed confidence, he turned his attention to the blueprint for the magnetic rifle.
Porting the design of the handgun to the rifle presented several challenges. First, the magnetic field requirements were significantly higher. A rifle needed to propel projectiles at much greater velocities over longer distances, demanding a more robust magnetic system. He had to carefully consider the size and placement of the magnets, ensuring they didn't make the rifle unwieldy.
Second, the magnetic array needed to be re-engineered. In the handgun, the magnets were compact and sufficient for short-range targets. However, the rifle would require a more extended and powerful magnetic array to maintain acceleration over the extended barrel length. This meant optimizing the magnet placement and enhancing the cooling system to prevent overheating due to internal friction from sustained use. He already ordered some primers that could fulfill these roles.
Third, the structural integrity of the rifle was paramount. The increased force generated by the magnetic propulsion system required a reinforced frame to handle the stress without compromising accuracy. He had to meticulously design the rifle's chassis, using materials that balanced strength with weight to keep the rifle manageable.
Finally, integrating a targeting system posed its own set of issues. While the targeting system of the handguns was mainly his own line of sight, the rifle needed advanced optics for precision at range. Luckily, one of the establishments he went to earlier had a high-quality scope that provided clear and precise targeting.
He worked on incorporating it into the design, ensuring it was seamlessly aligned with the magnetic propulsion system for pinpoint accuracy. This way, the scope would provide clear and precise targeting to match the rifle's capabilities.
Although the rifle currently lacked any digital components, it and his other equipment were designed in a way that he could easily convert them to stronger and more stable electromagnetic versions when he gained the required expertise and acquired the necessary materials. This way, he ensured that his equipment would remain versatile and upgradeable, ready to evolve as his skills and resources improved.
All of these extra demands increased his workload, but he did not complain about it at all. He enjoyed the process of assimilating his knowledge base with the technology of this world. He gained a huge amount of satisfaction for solving a difficult puzzle and finding yet another way to squeeze more performance out of interesting combinations of the different technologies.
This continued until one day, he saw a straightforward assignment that could help him get a feel for how it all worked. The assignment was providing security for a private event in the city that evening and the pay was decent. But more importantly, it seemed like a good way to ease into the new role without drawing too much attention.
He submitted his application and when it was approved, wasted no time in preparing for the task ahead. He left his laptop to conduct simulations and perform a huge number of mathematical calculations then headed to the reception area to extended his stay for another three days. With his accommodations settled, he set out to scout the location of the event he would be guarding later that evening.
The mansion stood like a jewel at the edge of the city, its reflective glass facade catching the early afternoon sun and scattering rainbows across the manicured lawn. Rion stepped out of the black taxi, adjusting the strap of his tactical bag slung over his shoulder. The air smelled of freshly mowed grass and the faint tang of chlorine from a pool somewhere nearby.
A man in a tailored suit approached him, his smile sharp and professional. "Mr. Forger, I presume?"
"That's me," Rion replied, offering a firm handshake.
"I'm Hugh Jass, Chief of Staff for Mr. Gyatt. Thank you for arriving early. Mr. Gyatt prefers his security detail to be well-prepared."
Rion nodded, scanning the sprawling grounds. The mansion had a clean, modern aesthetic, but its openness made it a security nightmare. Glass walls. Multiple entry points. Too many blind spots.
Hugh gestured toward the main entrance. "If you'll follow me, I'll walk you through the setup and introduce you to the rest of the team."
Inside, the air was cool and perfumed with something floral. The marble floors gleamed under recessed lighting, and Rion could already hear the faint murmur of caterers setting up in the adjoining rooms.
Hugh led him around the premises as he informed him of his duties. "This party is important to the family, and discretion is paramount," Hugh said, leading Rion into a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. The room overlooked a pool deck where workers were busy arranging tables and floral decorations.
"We don't anticipate any major issues," Hugh continued, his tone measured, "but there are always a few who might hope to spoil the evening. We've had... let's just call them disagreements with some business rivals in the past." He glanced at Rion, his expression a mix of professionalism and unease. "While I don't think anyone would risk something so brazen, Mr. Gyatt believes in being prepared for every possibility. That's where you come in."
Rion gave a curt nod, his gaze sweeping over the mansion's layout again. The openness of the architecture wasn't just a security challenge; it was practically an invitation to trouble. He mentally noted areas that could serve as potential vulnerabilities—unsecured doors, blind corners, and poorly lit exterior spaces.
"Do I get a layout of the property?" he asked, his voice calm but firm.
Hugh handed him a tablet. "Here's a detailed floor plan. You'll also find a list of all the entry points and assigned security zones. You'll be stationed near the main event area, but you'll need to coordinate with the other guards to ensure complete coverage."
Rion skimmed the layout, committing key details to memory. "Understood. What's the guest list look like? Any notable figures I should watch out for?"
Hugh hesitated for a moment before answering. "Mostly business associates, a few politicians, and some local celebrities. Their safety is, of course, a top priority, but you should also keep an eye on any unfamiliar faces."
"Noted," Rion replied. "And the rest of the security team?"
"You'll meet them shortly," Hugh said, guiding Rion toward a side room. "The team consists of a mix of private contractors and seasoned professionals like yourself. Ava Monroe, the head of security, is in charge and will be coordinating everyone's efforts."
After showing Rion some other important locations, he finally escorted him to the security hub, a converted guest room filled with monitors displaying live feeds from the property. Ava Monroe was waiting there, her arms crossed. She had the lean, athletic build of someone who knew how to handle herself in a fight and an air of quiet authority.