Chapter 29: Lost and Found

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Lost and Found

Another two days passed. During this time, aside from his unfailing practice of the Thirteen Grand Protectors’ Cross Training and cold weapons, Xu Mo dedicated most of his time to familiarizing himself with his newly acquired firearms. He practiced his shooting on the rooftop, aiming at a distant, ruined wall and targets he had set up in advance.

After two days, while he could hardly be called a Sharpshooter, he had at least become proficient in the basic operations of the AK rifle, such as aiming, firing, controlling the recoil, and reloading the magazine.

Xu Mo had also gained a basic grasp of the TT-33 pistol. Improving his accuracy would require a great deal of live-fire practice and time, but that was just a matter of putting in the work. The confidence that came from holding a real, loaded firearm and having a basic understanding of how to use it was on a completely different level from when he had only his Bone-Cutting Knife to rely on.

However, a person’s ambitions always grow to match their capabilities. Now that he had a basic rifle and pistol, and was temporarily well-stocked with ammunition, Xu Mo’s mind began to wander.

He couldn’t let it go.

The memory from two days ago still gnawed at him: the sheer ecstasy in that small villa upon first seeing the AWM, with its sleek lines and deadly beauty, followed by the immense disappointment of its light, plasticky feel. Xu Mo felt a lingering sense of loss, like something was stuck in his chest. The sharp contrast, like falling from heaven to hell in an instant, was something he couldn’t get over.

This lingering dissatisfaction eventually drove Xu Mo to strap on his empty backpack, holster the pistol at his waist, and, after another forty-eight-hour cooldown had passed, return to the front of the three-story villa.

The security door was still ajar. On it, the "Gun Room" sign remained as bright and piercing as ever. Xu Mo took a deep breath, suppressing the churning mix of anticipation and anxiety in his chest, and pressed his palm against the door.

"Open!"

A faint light shimmered, and the scene before him shifted.

Xu Mo stepped through, his eyes urgently scanning the entire space.

It was another room piled high with firearms!

Unlike the neat displays from last time, the firearms here were stored much more haphazardly.

It was no longer an elegant showroom but more of a utilitarian armory. Firearms still hung from the walls, but their types and arrangement seemed subtly different from his last visit.

Xu Mo’s heart began to pound uncontrollably as his gaze swept across the room like a searchlight.

’Found it!’

On a lone gun rack against the right wall, he saw it again—the AWM sniper rifle that had been haunting his dreams! The familiar frame, the dark green finish, the long, powerful barrel...

Swallowing his excitement, Xu Mo strode forward and reached out, cautiously touching the cold frame of the gun.

Heavy.

The moment he touched it, he felt a solid, weighty, metallic texture, a world away from the light, plasticky sensation of before. Xu Mo gripped the gun’s frame tightly; the cold, firm touch felt incredibly real. He tried working the bolt. CLICK. A crisp, smooth sound of metal scraping on metal echoed as part of the chamber mechanism was exposed.

’It’s real! This is a real AWM!’

An indescribable wave of satisfaction washed over him, as if a past regret had finally been made right. Xu Mo almost wanted to throw his head back and roar, but his rational mind stamped down the impulse.

Xu Mo quickly lifted his coveted, genuine AWM from the gun rack. Feeling its substantial weight in his hands put his heart completely at ease.

Next, his eyes swept to the nearby ammunition shelf. The cartridges here were clearly different from the 7.62mm rounds for the AK. The boxes were stamped with ".338 Lapua Magnum"—the specialized ammunition for the AWM sniper rifle! A quick count suggested there were at least four or five hundred rounds, and beside them were several pre-loaded .338 magazines.

Besides the AWM and its ammo, Xu Mo discovered other treasures. In one corner sat a pair of military-grade binoculars with pristine lenses, several dark green canteens, and, stacked in a few wooden crates, a considerable quantity of MREs and military-grade compressed biscuits!

Time was tight, so Xu Mo sprang into action.

He first moved the most valuable items—the AWM sniper rifle, the hundreds of .338 rounds, the binoculars, and the canteens—swiftly outside the door. This was the core of his haul, and securing it was his top priority.

Then, Xu Mo returned to the room and rushed over to the MREs and compressed biscuits. He ripped open his backpack and began stuffing the high-energy, easily-stored military food inside until the pack was bulging and heavy once more.

Just as Xu Mo zipped up his backpack and was about to give the room one last scan for anything he might have missed, the sixty-second countdown ended.

The familiar pulling sensation washed over him, and the scene before his eyes began to blur and twist.

The next second, Xu Mo reappeared in the small courtyard, the food-filled backpack heavy on his shoulders. He was standing right next to the pile of "treasures" he had just hauled out: the genuine AWM sniper rifle, its specialized and expensive ammunition, the binoculars, the canteens...

Looking at the pile of loot on the ground—a haul that far exceeded his expectations, especially the AWM lying there silently, radiating a grim aura—a broad, satisfied smile finally spread across Xu Mo’s face.

Xu Mo didn’t pack up and leave right away. Instead, he stood his ground, letting the early morning chill wash over him as his mind rapidly replayed the brief yet information-dense sixty seconds he had just experienced.

"It was a success—even more than I’d hoped for." Xu Mo looked down at the stark lines of the AWM, a powerful sense of satisfaction welling within him. It wasn’t just about getting the gun; it was about his judgment and choices being proven correct.

Opening the same physical door marked "Gun Room" twice had led him into two different Gun Rooms. This confirmed his earlier suspicion: the general theme dictated by the sign was consistent, but the specific details and inventory behind the door seemed to have a degree of randomness—or different "versions," so to speak.

The first room had been a model-kit enthusiast’s paradise; the second was a more practical supply cache. This deepened Xu Mo’s understanding of the rules: the sign didn’t provide precise coordinates but merely defined a category. The door would then randomly "pull" a scene from within that category.

Xu Mo was also thankful for his self-control. Faced with the temptation of a room full of firearms, he had stuck to the principle of "take only what you need."

The AWM filled the void in his long-range capabilities, forming a perfect combination of long-, mid-, and close-range firepower with his existing AK and pistol. Forgoing the other firearms might have seemed like a loss, but in reality, it had saved him precious time and carrying capacity.

If he had greedily tried to grab other guns, he likely wouldn’t have managed to safely transport the more important AWM, its specialized ammunition, and all those critical rations out within the sixty-second time limit.

Xu Mo didn’t intend to eat this food as part of his daily routine. His primary source of daily meals was still the small restaurant behind the door marked "Please, Enjoy." These MREs and compressed biscuits, however, were extremely calorie-dense, sturdily packaged, had a long shelf life, and were easy to carry. They were perfect as emergency supplies and field rations, prepared for potential long-distance travel or urgent expeditions in the future.

A cold wind swept past, ruffling Xu Mo’s hair.

’Time to head back.’

Xu Mo bent down and reverently slung the AWM rifle over his back. After carefully arranging the ammunition and other supplies, he started walking back to his shelter.