Exploring Technology in a Wizard World
Chapter 513 - 511: The King of Cold Weapons

Chapter 513: Chapter 511: The King of Cold Weapons

"Pfft!"

After Muto pulled the trigger, no explosion happened, just a short burst of air, and then a lead bullet about one centimeter in diameter flew out of the muzzle.

Richard watched the lead bullet, his eyes flickering.

He was very clear about the power of a lead bullet, clearer than the users Muto and Rek: the softness of the bullet meant that upon hitting a human body, it released all its kinetic energy, causing serious deformation or even shattering, creating a bell-shaped cavity on the body’s surface, with a trauma area a hundred times larger than an ordinary bullet, comparable to the notorious dum-dum bullet.

Moreover, when a lead bullet hit the body, its fragments could embed deep inside, and if not removed promptly, would contaminate the circulatory system with lead poisoning, causing immense pain and potential death.

But then again, the lead bullet’s efficacy was predicated on actually hitting the body—due to its weight, its initial velocity after being shot from a firearm was quite low, and it was relatively easy to block.

Thinking this, Richard didn’t bother using the non-Newtonian fluid beneath his clothes and simply waved his hand, creating an air wall barrier in front of him.

"Bang!"

The lead bullet shot towards him, striking the air wall barrier and rapidly decreasing in speed, before ultimately coming to a complete halt about ten centimeters from Richard.

This!

The gunmen, Muto and Rek, exchanged looks, both displaying shock, but then they prepared to attack again with a bit of disbelief.

"I just can’t believe it, can’t believe that the weapons made by our teacher are useless!" Muto shouted, "Rek, prepare to reload!"

"Got it!" Rek grabbed a valve on an iron can and gave it a twist.

"Pfft," a rapid sound of air filling echoed inside the firearm Muto was holding; Tuoke yanked something on the gun that resembled a bolt, and with a "click-clack," it sounded as if something was chambered.

Muto aimed at Richard and pulled the trigger a second time.

"Pfft! Bang!"

The second lead bullet was fired, whistling towards Richard’s head, attempting to blow his brains out.

But... the fate of the second bullet was the same as the first, screeching to a halt upon contacting the air wall released by Richard.

Muto looked on, his expression twisting as he screamed, "Again!"

Rek immediately twisted the valve on the can again.

"Pfft! Bang!"

"Pfft! Bang!"

"Pfft..."

The third, fourth, fifth... a relentless stream of bullets fired towards Richard.

Richard watched Muto and Rek, letting them shoot non-stop.

He had already determined what the two men held in their hands—it was the king of Cold Weapons... the airgun.

Yes, the airgun, the king of Cold Weapons—considered a cold weapon because it did not use gunpowder or explosives, nor did it rely on chemical energy; it attacked through the physical change of high-pressure air.

In the initial stages of firearms development, this kind of cold weapon—the airgun—had many advantages. For instance, it was easy to clean the barrel, had low recoil, was unaffected by weather, produced little noise, did not reveal the shooter’s location with a flash, and could even achieve semi-automatic firing with the action of a manual air pump—outright overpowering the concurrent gunpowder firearms.

Therefore, in Earth’s history, countries like France and Austria once equipped their armies with airguns. If not for some logistical and portability issues that were hard to resolve, it’s possible that airguns could have replaced firearms on Earth.

Then, the battlefields of the world wars would not have been filled with the roar of artillery, but rather everyone would have carried punk-style airguns, "puffing and popping" as they exchanged fire, and used Steam Trebuchets to bombard each other.

...

"Puff! Bang! Puff! Bang!" Muto and Rek were still shooting until there was a series of empty sounds, "Puff puff puff—"

Turns out, the bullets inside the airguns had all been fired.

At this moment, Richard could see the Air Wall erected in front of him, embedded with a dense array of lead balls—quite a spectacular sight.

Muto and Rek exchanged glances, both swallowing hard: "Gulp!"

Richard waved his hand, dismissed the Air Wall, and let the lead balls clatter to the ground. He looked at Muto and Rek and said, "I don’t know why you’re treating me as an enemy, but I still want to clarify: I have no ill intentions in seeking Master Lawrence.

In fact, you’ve seen my abilities. If I truly harbored malicious intent, it’s impossible for you to still be standing here unharmed. So, are you going to continue challenging my patience, or shall we have a proper conversation?"

"This..." Muto hesitated for a moment, looked at Richard, and asked tentatively, "Are you really not a bad guy? Are you really not here to kill our teacher?"

"Why would I want to kill your teacher?" Richard countered, "I just want to meet Master Lawrence to see if I can get some help from him."

"Then—" Muto took a deep breath, appearing to ponder, and finally decided, "Then I’ll go ask our teacher and see if he wants to meet you before saying anything. Rek, hold onto this thing for now, just to be cautious."

After speaking, Muto shoved the heavy firearm into Rek’s arms and ran toward the main house.

Rek, holding the hefty air canister and firearm, felt his muscles strain under the weight. His eyes wide, he stared at Richard, maintaining a tough demeanor: "Listen... don’t think I can’t take you down just because I look like this! You’d better not try anything funny before Muto gets back, or else... or else..."

Unable to continue, Rek turned his head away and shouted: "Muto, are you done yet? I can’t hold this anymore!"

"I’m coming, I’m coming!" called out Muto as he rushed out, helping to hold the heavy airgun and lifting it toward the main house, while he said to Richard, "That... Our teacher said he could meet you, come in."

"Alright." Richard nodded and followed the two into the main house.

...

After entering the main house, Richard saw that about half of the space inside was taken up by various wooden racks, which held numerous items; some were mechanical clocks, while others were indescribable and oddly shaped gadgets.

At the very back of the main house, there was a black wooden desk. Behind the desk sat a white-haired old man in his sixties, sitting in a wheelchair and pointing a shiny gun towards him.

Richard looked over and saw that the gun was all silver, shaped like a revolver, far more advanced than matchlock guns or airguns. He also guessed the identity of the person with the gun—likely the so-called Lawrence.

"Master Lawrence," Richard began, introducing himself to the other, "My name is Richard, a friend of Sherlock’s. He referred me to you, and I hope there’s no misunderstanding. My visit is without any ill intentions; I just wish to seek some assistance from you."

"Huh?"