Chapter 604: Suspicious Engineer (2)

“Among the customers who visited this workshop recently, there was a man who used a folding blade, correct?”

The woman, standing hesitantly before Lennok’s workbench, pulled a pistol from her embrace, held it upside down, and placed it down as she spoke.

“He’s my uncle, and he said he was very satisfied when he commissioned work here at your workshop.”

“I see.”

“He’s usually quite picky, only giving harsh reviews to most services or shops, but unusually, he had a lot of praise for this workshop…”

“…”

Was this how it felt to discover a seemingly normal customer was actually a malicious reviewer?

Regardless, the fact that good service led to a continuous stream of good customers was something to be viewed positively.

Lennok took the small pistol the young woman handed him, a hint of unease in his expression, and his eyes glinted slightly.

“Its condition is remarkably good. It seems you’ve been very meticulous with its regular maintenance.”

“Exactly. That’s why I just don’t understand why the gun isn’t hitting its mark anymore…”

Watching the woman sigh with a dejected expression, Lennok silently raised his mana perception.

Having identified the issue, Lennok then picked up a small screwdriver and slowly began disassembling the pistol around the magazine.

The woman, observing him from the front, asked with a bewildered look.

“I heard that masters usually don’t touch the equipment itself, but you’re working on mine directly?”

“I’m not sure why such rumors became more prevalent, but if there’s actually a problem with the equipment, then it needs to be fixed.”

At Lennok’s nonchalant answer, the woman’s expression grew even more perplexed.

“Oh, so you’re saying there’s actually a problem with my gun? But other workshops said it definitely wasn’t the gun itself…”

Is that why she came to Lennok, because rumors had started that he consulted on people’s problems and their causes just by looking at their equipment?

But Lennok knew that repairing the gun first was the priority, rather than her lifestyle habits or attitude.

“It’s done. You should come inside and try it out.”

Lennok said, opening a makeshift door beside his stall and nodding to the woman.

“Since I often repair things and have them handed right back, I figured it would be more convenient to just set up a temporary firing range inside the workshop.”

“Well, I won’t refuse.”

The woman, entering Lennok’s workshop with a smile, looked around with a sense of wonder at the myriad of diverse parts hanging on the walls.

Various firearms hung everywhere, along with subtly mana-emitting bladed weapons, a roaring forge in one corner of the workshop, and even slightly scorched hammers and an anvil.

It reeked of a seasoned workshop, not at all feeling like it had been hastily put together in just a few days.

However, what caught the woman’s eye was not the internal setup Lennok had designed, but rather the unknown mechanical devices that were tirelessly moving, automatically repairing various firearms.

“That’s incredible. If you just turn it on, it can repair equipment all by itself?”

“Simple tasks, like a jammed magazine or a bent barrel, can be handled with automated processes.”

Lennok replied nonchalantly.

“Once you create the necessary program and embed it into the device, the process itself isn’t difficult to implement.”

“They say master-level workshops these days are skilled not only in magic engineering but also in cybernetic engineering, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it.”

“First, let’s confirm the issue by firing the gun at the temporary firing range.”

Lennok immediately led the woman to the temporary firing range set up next to the workshop.

She loaded a bullet and pulled the trigger towards the target, and the bullet fired naturally.

CRACK!

The woman, seeing the bullet embed itself and split in the target, looked around with a slight startle.

“The soundproofing is excellent. The workshop and the temporary firing range aren’t even separated, so how can the sound be so faint?”

“The power of science.”

In reality, he had just slathered the temporary firing range with silencing magic, absorbing all the internal noise.

Lennok, without batting an eye, calmly spouted words befitting a master craftsman.

The woman pulled the trigger a few more times to test the zeroing, then finally nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“It doesn’t feel completely fixed, but it’s much better than the last few days. How did you do it?”

“It’s nothing special. I merely replaced the weight inside the gun with a slightly older one.”

“Replaced the weight? But I always replace that with a new one…”

Seeing the woman’s still uncomprehending reaction, Lennok finally explained.

“Among high-end firearms made through very precise manufacturing processes, there are occasional cases where they are custom-built to adapt to the user’s tendencies or habits.”

Lennok said this, making a hand gesture as if a pendulum was swinging.

“That gun is the same. It self-adjusts through the ‘breaking-in’ of its internal parts to optimize firing efficiency, adapting to things like how you grip the gun, the angle you lift it, or the amount of force you use on the barrel and trigger.”

“I… I see. I never knew that.”

“The problem is, not only do you maintain the gun very frequently, but you’ve also been replacing the internal weight—which is supposed to break in and adapt to the user—with new ones.”

“Ah…!”

Only then did the woman gasp softly, realizing what Lennok meant.

“By periodically replacing parts that are meant to break in and adapt to the user with new ones, the gun repeatedly becomes misaligned with your adapted feel, and you keep losing your zero while practicing to adjust to a new feel… This isn’t just a personal mistake.”

Lennok turned his gaze to the woman and smiled.

“Someone who taught you how to maintain your gun has been intentionally working to ruin your shooting sense and talent.”

“Oh, come on… no way.”

Seeing the woman awkwardly wave her hand, Lennok pulled a nearby chair over and sat down.

“You’re a soldier, aren’t you?”

“…!!!!”

“If you’re using such a high-end, custom-made firearm but don’t know much about its internal parts, then you’re issued equipment from higher-ups. And despite that, your shooting skills and physical abilities are excellent, and you don’t exude strong killing intent or a harsh impression… You’re personnel who’ve received professional combat training. I’d say from a security or escort department, wouldn’t you?”

“Tha…”

“Considering you came to the workshop showing your face, it seems you work in an environment where your face isn’t usually revealed.”

The woman fell silent, as if no answer came to mind that could refute his deduction.

Without waiting for her to respond, Lennok spoke.

“Look carefully at the comrades or seniors who taught you how to shoot, or those around them. There’s someone who wants your bullets to miss their mark at a critical moment.”

“…”

“Perhaps it’s someone who wants to eliminate the VIP you’re guarding, by the hand of a bodyguard.”

The woman, staring at Lennok with a dumbfounded expression, slowly composed herself and managed a smile.

“…I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.”

“…”

“But I will certainly remember your advice. Thank you very much.”

Bowing deeply in thanks, she left without revealing her name until the very end, leaving a more generous payment than agreed upon.

She was probably a bodyguard who, as Lennok suspected, was strictly forbidden from revealing her identity, or a superhuman belonging to a similar military unit.

The way she handled being blindsided by an unexpected vulnerability, remaining relatively calm, left room for high praise.

“It seems rumors are starting to spread among the high-ranking superhumans in Machina…”

Having worked on several people’s equipment over the past few days, was it a delusion to now feel anticipation about what kind of equipment and circumstances the next customer would bring?

And Lennok’s anticipation quickly materialized.

Customers with an incomparably dangerous demeanor compared to any before began to visit Lennok’s workshop, one by one.

“I was referred by a customer who visited the workshop yesterday around 9:46 PM.”

A woman’s subdued voice, her hood pulled even deeper than Lennok’s.

“I heard your skill in maintaining and customizing personal firearms is exceptional.”

“…”

Had the woman, who seemed to be a soldier from a security unit Lennok had consulted, introduced yet another new customer so quickly?

Beside this woman stood another young man, wearing an identical hood, with a smiling expression.

A striking combination: one with their hood up, the other with their face revealed.

But the aura emanating from these two was incomparably sharper than that of yesterday’s soldier.

A precise level of caution and prudence, honed through rigorous practical experience. Beyond that, a keen gaze and movements designed to analyze and assess their opponents.

An atmosphere more dangerous and precarious than any customer who had visited the workshop so far.

Lennok nodded without showing any surprise.

“Please, show me.”

As Lennok reached out and cleared the counter for their equipment, the hooded woman spoke again.

“Before that, I’d like to briefly verify your skill. Is that alright?”

“…”

At her words, Lennok stopped his hand, raised his head, and stared intently at the hood.

A peculiar silence settled between the three.

The young man standing beside her shook his head, as if resigned, and spoke.

“It’s equipment made with a rather rare modification method, so if it’s serviced incorrectly, it’s hard to reverse.”

“I know you’re a craftsman from outside the city. All I want is to confirm whether you have the skill to repair my equipment. Once that’s confirmed, I won’t interfere.”

“It doesn’t seem to be that ki…”

“I’ll pay ten times the usual fee for the maintenance.”

“Thinking about it again, it’s not a big problem.”

Lennok, who had changed his mind so nonchalantly, looked at the two individuals staring at him with bewildered expressions and asked.

“So, what do you want me to do for this ‘verification’?”

At his words, the hooded figure unhesitatingly pulled out a small metallic craft from within their clothing.

A mechanical craft, seemingly a complex entanglement of various gears and parts.

But it wasn’t working, frozen, twitching with an uncomfortable whirring noise.

The hooded figure placed the item on the workshop bench as if it were something precious and spoke.

“It’s a craft made by the artisan who customized my equipment. Unfortunately, it broke down around the same time, making it difficult to use.”

“…”

“If you can fix this, I think it will at least test your minimum ability to repair my equipment.”

Instead of answering, Lennok silently picked up the craft and examined it.

“It’s composed of incredibly intricate parts. Each component seems to have been handcrafted, not mass-produced…”

Lennok murmured, calmly verifying the craft’s internal structure, component cross-sections, and heat treatment methods using his mana perception.

The hooded woman nodded.

“Yes, due to personal circumstances, I can’t tell you its detailed history or origin—”

“Its creation date is approximately 14 years ago. The metal used is from Hollinger Mold Company specifications. It’s the form of ancient artwork commonly seen during the transitional period between the Baedora and Glentis styles.”

“…”

“To the extent of gathering parts from a mold company that has now ceased production to create an artwork, the artisan who made this craft must have been very interested in ancient relics and history.”

Of course, Lennok could by no means claim deep knowledge of this world’s art, but the story was different if he borrowed the power of the Cybernetic Spirit peeking out from within his clothes.

Lennok successfully gained the upper hand by casually discussing ancient art styles as if he had known them all along.

Without waiting for the hooded figure, Lennok further examined the craft’s internal structure and let out a small gasp of admiration.

“Space has been provided for mana to pass between almost all parts. Regardless of its completion quality at the time of creation, it seems he anticipated frequent malfunctions.”

Lennok smiled at the bewildered young man beside him, reassembled the craft, placed it down, and said.

“An ancient art style. Discontinued metal components. And the craftsmanship that paid attention to even the finest details for repair, despite knowing it would break down. It seems he wanted this item to be cared for, and for him to be remembered, even as time passed and memories faded.”

Click.

The craft opened on the workbench, and a music box appeared inside, beginning to play a quiet melody.

A melody well-known in the Southern Continent as a way to express love.

“It seems you had a romantic lover.”

“…”

The young man, observing the silent hooded figure, cautiously called out her name.

“Isabella…?”

“Uzart, it’s fine.”

The woman, Isabella, cutting off the young man with a calm voice, carefully retrieved the craft and said.

“Thank you for fixing it. I’ll pay you separately for this work.”

“Thank you.”

She watched Lennok take the bundle of banknotes without any change in expression and said.

“The equipment he made was all beautiful and intricate, but it often broke down quickly unless he personally maintained it.”

“…”

“He used to say, ‘The things one makes follow their owner.’ True to his words, despite his exceptional craftsmanship, he didn’t live long and passed away.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Despite that, he was so meticulous in considering the user during creation that many people still use the equipment he made.”

Saying that, Isabella finally pushed back her hood and looked at Lennok.

Her expression was as dry and cold as her voice. But her eyes, unlike her chilly appearance, were a fiery red.

CLANG!!

Isabella pulled something long and metallic from inside her thick hood, placed it on the workbench, and looked at Lennok.

“Can you fix this?”

Instead of answering, Lennok gazed intently at Isabella’s gloves.

He had noticed them when she first took out the craft, and indeed, it was a peculiar shape he remembered.

A small blue cross etched on the back of the black glove.

Maiya Lonsdale, whom he had encountered in Hanghasa Labyrinth and during the interim settlement, also wore gloves with a similar design.

Maiya Lonsdale’s origin, the current environment of Machina (Machine City), and the presence of these two individuals radiating an suspiciously dangerous aura.

Although they had made no mention of who they were, Lennok felt he knew.

They were Enforcers.