Chapter 28: True and False

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: True and False

The sixty-second countdown ticked away five or six seconds while Xu Mo was still lost in utter shock. He jolted, snapping out of the daze caused by the staggering number of firearms.

"I’ve hit the jackpot!!"

An irrepressible, ecstatic growl erupted from his throat. All thoughts of composure and caution were thrown to the wind. The dazzling array of firearms before him was his greatest asset for surviving this apocalypse.

Xu Mo’s gaze instantly locked onto the AWM on the left wall, with its sleek lines and distinctly modern design. He’d used that thing countless times in video games to blow off countless "enemies’" heads. Now that a real one was right in front of him, how could he possibly pass it up?

’What’s composure? This massive surprise has already washed it away! Are you kidding me? I have an "AWM" now, who needs composure!’

Xu Mo bolted to the wall and, with an almost reverent excitement, reached out and lifted his dream "AWM" from the gun rack.

The moment it was in his hands—

"Huh?"

The ecstasy on Xu Mo’s face froze instantly, replaced by sheer disbelief and bewilderment.

Light!

Way too light!

The "AWM" in his hands lacked the hefty, substantial weight he expected from a firearm. Instead, it felt distinctly hollow, light, and plasticky! The feel was quite similar to the toy guns he played with as a kid, just more exquisitely crafted.

An absurd thought that made his heart sink shot through his mind.

Unwilling to give up, Xu Mo quickly examined it more closely. Although the body was a mix of metal and polymer, the materials were clearly wrong. He could even see faint mold lines at some of the joints. He tried to pull the bolt—it wouldn’t budge. It was a completely fixed model! The trigger was dead, too; it couldn’t be pulled!

’Fake?!’

Xu Mo froze on the spot as if struck by lightning. The blood that had been boiling with excitement just moments ago instantly turned cold.

"No... that’s impossible," Xu Mo muttered, unwilling to believe it. He tossed the "AWM" back onto the rack and eagerly grabbed a cool-looking "assault rifle" next to it.

The same light, plasticky feel.

He tried a "shotgun." Still the same.

Xu Mo quickly felt every one of the formidable-looking "rifles" and "pistols" on the wall, his heart growing colder with each one. Aside from a very few that felt slightly heavier, which might have been metal models, the vast majority were high-fidelity toy replicas or training props.

Heaven and hell, separated by a single moment.

A colossal sense of disappointment washed over him like a tidal wave.

"At least the sign wasn’t wrong..." Xu Mo muttered to himself. He understood now. The owner of this room must have been a die-hard military enthusiast, not an actual gun owner.

He had decorated this place to look like his dream armory, satisfying himself with these incredibly realistic models.

All that excitement for nothing. The huge psychological drop left Xu Mo speechless.

Xu Mo thought about his past "door openings"—the hair salon, the armory... and now, he’d have to add the Gun Room to the list.

Just as Xu Mo was growing disheartened, he prepared to grab something—anything—unwilling to leave completely empty-handed. But then, his gaze inadvertently fell upon the area behind the huge metal workstation in the center of the room.

There, leaning against the wall, was an inconspicuous, long, dark green metal case. It even had some scuff marks, making it look completely out of place among the surrounding shiny, new models.

A faint glimmer of hope rekindled. Xu Mo quickly walked around, squatted down, and found that the case wasn’t locked. He took a deep breath and yanked open the lid.

The sight inside made his nearly-stopped heart begin to pound powerfully again.

The case was lined with green cushioning foam, and nestled inside lay two guns. One was an AK-47 with a wooden stock and steel body, its construction radiating a rugged reliability. The other was a classic TT-33 pistol. A few brand-new suppressors were scattered beside them.

Both guns felt heavy in his hands. The cold touch of metal was distinct even through his gloves, and every component exuded the precision and sturdiness of an industrial product.

"They’re real!" Xu Mo almost wept with joy. This solid weight was what a real weapon was supposed to feel like.

Although there were only two, a pathetic number compared to the wall full of models, these were the real deal.

Xu Mo immediately picked up the AK-47 rifle and the TT-33 pistol, stroking the cold steel lovingly. The unexpected find washed away most of his disappointment.

With little time left, Xu Mo quickly turned his attention to the mountain of ammunition piled on the workstation. He quickly checked it, grabbing a 7.62mm rifle round used by the AK. It was heavy, the casing a burnished yellow. It was real.

He then confirmed the 7.62mm pistol rounds for the TT-33 were also real.

It seemed that while the owner mainly collected models, he had also managed to get his hands on two real guns and their corresponding ammunition. ’Of course, it could also be because old Russian gear is easier to get,’ Xu Mo thought.

Xu Mo didn’t hesitate. He slung the AK-47 over his back and stuffed the TT-33 pistol and the suppressors into his backpack. Then, he grabbed his backpack and began frantically sweeping the loose and boxed 7.62mm ammunition from the workstation into it. He prioritized the rifle rounds but took plenty of pistol rounds as well. The backpack grew visibly heavier.

Just as he felt the backpack’s weight nearing its limit, the sixty-second countdown ended.

In a flash of light, Xu Mo returned to the apocalyptic world.

CLATTER.

The heavy backpack slammed onto the ground, the bullets inside clinking against each other. Xu Mo panted heavily, his hand still gripping the AK-47 tightly. Although the process had been a rollercoaster and the outcome far from what he’d expected, he was no longer a survivor armed with only Cold Weapons.

Filled with joy, Xu Mo quickly returned to his shelter. Only after he had blocked the entrance again did he finally breathe a true sigh of relief.

Carefully placing the backpack in a corner, he eagerly picked up the AK rifle and sat on the sofa to examine it closely.

This AK-47 rifle had the classic wooden handguard and stock. Its metal parts had a deep, matte black finish from use, with extremely fine wear marks on some edges. It clearly wasn’t a brand-new stock item and had likely been used a few times by its previous owner. But overall, it was very well-maintained. The construction was solid, showing no signs of rust or damage, and it exuded a sense of battle-tested reliability.

In contrast, the TT-33 pistol was in pristine condition, its blued finish perfectly uniform and intact, as if it had just left the factory.

This huge score washed away the disappointment he’d felt in the model collection room. Although he hadn’t gotten a room full of real guns, these two classic weapons—one long, one short, especially the famous AK—left him completely satisfied.

Xu Mo carefully set the rifle aside and began to take inventory of the heavy backpack. It was almost stuffed full of bullets. He did a rough count:

7.62mm rifle rounds took up most of the space in the backpack—he estimated there were over eight hundred of them. Some were loose in cardboard boxes, while others were still in their neat, unopened packaging. Their weight represented immense sustained firepower.

The number of pistol rounds was much smaller, only about two hundred and seventy or eighty, packed in a few small cardboard boxes.

For his personal use, this amount of ammunition was more than enough for the short term. Especially those eight hundred-plus rifle rounds. As long as he didn’t spray and pray against a massive zombie horde, it was enough to support plenty of practice and handle multiple crises.

Looking at the rifle, pistol, and piled-up ammunition before him, Xu Mo felt an unprecedented sense of confidence.

’From now on, in my spare time, I’ll have to add gun practice to my training regimen,’ Xu Mo planned.

The cultivation of Cold Weapons was fundamental, his path to the extraordinary, but this process was destined to be a long one.

Until he reached the First Realm of the Thirteen Grand Protectors’ Cross Training, the Cowhide Realm, and could withstand danger with his physical body alone, the immediate deterrent and long-range lethality of firearms were irreplaceable.

A reliable rifle would allow him to eliminate potential threats from a safe distance, whether they were zombies or other survivors with malicious intent. This boost in power was immediate, greatly enhancing his chances of survival and his confidence in navigating this ruined world.

After stowing the firearms and ammunition, Xu Mo finally started preparing his late breakfast. Though the food was simple, his mood was as bright as the sunshine outside the window.