190: Chapter 188: The Spear of Carnage 190: Chapter 188: The Spear of Carnage Bob seemed rather annoyed as he twisted his mouth and said, “It’s been an awesome day, I was just about to regale you with the tale of how I nearly met my maker, but I’ll save my story for later.
First, let me introduce you guys to my brother, Gao Yang, you can also call him Ram, whatever you prefer.
Gao, this is my best friend, my good brother Jack Morrison, chief gunsmith of Arilan Morrison studio, and the best gunsmith on the American West Coast.”
Upon hearing Bob’s introduction, Gao Yang was quite astonished because he could hardly believe that the superb M1A was made by the Jack right in front of him, since Jack looked to be at most thirty years old, while Gao Yang had always imagined the gunsmith who made his superb M1A to be an old man with white hair.
Not only was Jack Morrison young, but he was also very fat, standing at one meter eighty-five and weighing at least two hundred kilograms.
Although he was not yet impaired in his movements, he definitely fell into the category of being very overweight.
Jack’s shiny, bald head didn’t have a single hair on it, but it did have a fierce-looking Devil tattoo, and being bald with a tattoo on your head isn’t all that unusual.
The key thing about Jack Morrison was that he had a big, bushy beard that reached down to his chest, making it look like a person’s head had grown on backward, an indescribable mixture of the bizarre and hilarious.
It was December, and Portland’s temperatures were much lower than those of Los Angeles, right in the middle of the freezing cold.
But Jack Morrison only wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, with his arms covered in all kinds of tattoos.
No matter how you looked at him, Jack Morrison did not fit the image of a top-notch gunsmith.
After Bob’s introduction, just as Gao Yang was sizing up Jack Morrison with surprise, Jack Morrison was also sizing up Gao Yang with amazement.
After looking Gao Yang up and down, Jack Morrison said with a look of astonishment, “Wow, you’re the guy Bob was talking about?
The one who lived as a primitive man on the Sudanese grasslands for three years?
Wow, I didn’t expect to meet a living hero.
Nice to meet you, brother.
I’ve heard so much about you from Bob.
You can call me Jack.
Please come in, let’s talk in my rest room, where I can offer you guys some cold beers.”
After fist-bumping with Gao Yang and greeting the others, Jack invited Gao Yang and company inside.
The storefront of Arilan Morrison studio had one wall covered with all kinds of rifles, and there was a counter in front with plenty of handguns displayed, all products of Arilan Morrison studio, but there was only one woman standing behind the counter and not a single customer.
There were seats in the Arilan Morrison studio store for members and customers to rest and socialize, but Jack did not let Gao Yang and the others stay in the shop.
Instead, he led them through another door within the store to his own private rest room, where there were not only sofas and a TV, but even a small bar.
After sitting Gao Yang and the others down, Jack casually grabbed a few beers for everyone.
The heat was turned up high in the rest room, so drinking chilled beer in the middle of winter didn’t seem so odd.
“Guys, having a beer on a winter’s morning might seem weird to you, but looking at my physique, you should know how much I love beer,” Jack said.
“Just to let you know, beer is all I have.
It’s a shame we can’t enjoy some football while we drink; that would really feel like a friends’ gathering.”
Watching Jack comfortably holding a beer and sitting on the sofa, Bob said urgently, “Cut it out, brother, I’m not here to drink beer with you.
Let’s get to what you’re good at.
My brothers here all make a living off guns.
You’ve got to show some of your proud creations to impress them.
Hurry up, I can’t wait to see their amazed faces.”
Jack shrugged and said, “You know, my private orders are backed up for the next five years, so for the next five years, I won’t be taking any orders, brother.
I’ve got to enjoy life, right?
I can’t spend all my time working.
Maybe you should talk to my dad about this.
He’s the kind of person who would do anything for money, not me.”
With a disdainful tone, Bob said, “Come on, quit trying to pull the wool over my eyes, the same way you do with everyone else.
Now, take a look at this gun and see if it needs any tuning.
Get moving, and don’t make me kick your ass.”
As he spoke, Bob opened the gun case he had brought, took out the super M1A, and upon seeing the M1A, Jack twisted his mouth and said, “Buddy, how many times have you taken it to the shooting range?
Or did you use it to hunt bears to end up like this?
Please, hunting bears with this gun is illegal.
Don’t tell me you got it in this state in Africa, you’ve barely been there a few days, and you didn’t fulfill your promise to hunt a lion with it and send me the pelt either.”
Gao Yang had always cherished his M1A, but his gun had gone through multiple high-intensity battles and required careful cleaning and maintenance whenever time permitted.
Normal signs of use were inevitable, and with the rough-and-tumble of the battlefield, even with the utmost caution, his gun would inevitably get bumped and nicked.
Consequently, the wooden stock of the M1A had some small dents, giving it a somewhat weathered appearance.
After hearing Jack’s words, Gao Yang raised his bottle with a smile and said, “Sorry, this gun is like this because of me.
Also, just to add, this gun has saved me more than once.”
Bob nodded and said, “That’s right.
I gave this gun to Gao when I was in Africa.
He used it nearly from the beginning to the end of the Libya war.
They even raided Gaddafi’s palace and killed, um, there are things I can’t tell you, but all you need to know is that this gun was used by an incredible shooter.”
Jack’s eyes immediately widened.
He took the M1A that Bob was holding and inspected it closely.
Afterward, he sized up Gao Yang and said seriously, “Do you serve the government or money?”
Gao Yang chuckled and replied, “For money, we are mercenaries, free mercenaries.”
Jack’s eyes lit up.
He held the M1A in his hands and said, “So, you’ve killed a lot of people with this gun, right?
How many?
A hundred, no?
Then eighty?
There must be fifty, right?”
Gao Yang found Jack’s question somewhat difficult to answer because he had never counted how many enemies he had killed, and he didn’t think there was any glory in killing people, so he always purposely avoided thinking about how many enemies he had killed.
Seeing the slightly embarrassed expression on Gao Yang’s face, Jack frowned and said, “Using my work, you must have killed at least fifty people throughout almost the entire Libyan war, right?
Oh, please, tell me you’re not that lame.”
Suddenly, Cui Bo said, “Fifty?
You’re underestimating him way too much.
Just the counts I had time to keep track of for him add up to two hundred and sixteen, thirty-five in Benghazi, one hundred and sixty in Misrata, and twenty-one in Tripoli.
Mind you, these are the numbers when I had time to observe and count during the less intense fighting.
If you add the ones I couldn’t count, he has definitely killed over three hundred people, at least three hundred or more.”
Gao Yang was startled by the figures Cui Bo reported; he had never thought that he had shot so many people, but after thinking it over, the numbers did indeed seem accurate.
Gao Yang simply pursed his lips and said nothing.
Jack was also taken aback by the numbers that Cui Bo reported.
He stared intently at Gao Yang, seeming very excited, and asked, “Is what he said true?
And, did you achieve all that with this gun?
I need you to confirm it yourself, and please, tell the truth.”
The battlefields of Libya were a sniper’s paradise.
Gao Yang was skilled with his rifle, and the weapon was exceptional.
Furthermore, he faced unprofessional soldiers without much formal military training, which allowed him to achieve such results.
If the location were different, like in Afghanistan, Gao Yang would have done well to kill fifty people.
That had little to do with marksmanship; the key was that the enemy in Afghanistan would not give you the chance to fire continuously.
Despite Afghanistan being poorer and more backward than Libya, when it comes to fighting, Afghans could throw the Libyans way behind.
Afghans who had undergone decades of war had become veterans as slippery as loaches.
Upon hearing gunfire, they would immediately find cover and not show themselves until they had dealt with the sniper—unlike in Libya, where both the opposition and the government forces had the same mentality, lining up to offer themselves as targets for Gao Yang’s rifle.
Although most of Gao Yang’s combat achievements were made on the battlefields of Libya, and a kill count didn’t take quality into account, the plain truth was that Gao Yang had indeed killed at least three hundred people.
After a moment of silence, Gao Yang nodded at Jack and said, “I’ve thought about it carefully, and yes, I have killed over three hundred people with your gun.
But I want to make it clear; everyone I shot was armed.
I’ve never fired at civilians or women and children.
I promise.”
Jack snapped his fingers and exclaimed excitedly, “Amazing, over three hundred enemies killed.
This is a true weapon of slaughter.
It’s fantastic!
Finally, one of my works has become a weapon of slaughter.
My gun has finally been put to the use it’s meant for and not just for target shooting and hunting wild beasts.
I’ve decided, I will buy this gun back for my collection.”
Gao Yang was taken aback.
He immediately reached out for the M1A which Jack was holding close to his chest and said urgently, “Sorry, I’m not selling or giving it away.
Please return the gun to me.
No matter how much you offer, I am not going to sell this gun.”
Jack pushed Gao Yang’s hand away and laughed, “Brother, you misunderstand me.
By buyback, I don’t mean to pay for your weapon of slaughter; I mean to trade it for a better and more suitable gun for you.
Trust me, once I’m convinced that you are worthy of my work, you will have a gun that truly belongs to you, the best gun in the world for you.” (To be continued.
If you like this work, you are welcome to vote, recommend, and support it at Qidian (qidian.com).
Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to read.)