Chapter Thirty-Two: While My Neighbor Hoards Grain, I Stockpile Guns—My Neighbor Is My Granary

At last, Colin and his companions arrived before a mine entrance, clearly marked by the handiwork of men, supported by several wooden stakes that had been bent out of shape. The mouth of the mine was slightly damp, with withered vegetation and scattered fragments of stone.

Colin did not hesitate to use his abilities.

[Hint: You realize this is the object you have longed to obtain—saltpeter, which can be synthesized into a key weapon.]

[Though the gunpowder you can simply make from it is outdated in your era.]

[Yet, as you dreamed last night, you yearn to baptize this land in cannon fire, to sweep away all shadows, and this shall be the first step.]

Too much! You even know what I dream...

Unperturbed by this minor matter, Colin set his gaze on the chunks of saltpeter fallen on either side of the mine entrance.

This natural saltpeter was crude, full of impurities; a gentle squeeze produced plenty of powder.

But when Colin took out his synthesis station, and with a thought, produced several batches in succession, the impurities vanished...

Although Colin did not understand the principle, the saltpeter in his hands had turned to powder, faintly yellowed, with no visible impurities to the naked eye.

Colin’s eyes glimmered, but he knew there were still steps remaining before the “finished product.”

Even though the synthesis station greatly simplified the process and offered helpful prompts, it would still require some time.

Nevertheless, Colin had no intention of returning; he decided to attempt it nearby, to make a package of “Pawa” (Power) on the spot.

The prompts provided some data, but the true power needed to be witnessed firsthand, lest theory become empty talk.

He ordered his men to gather the saltpeter scattered outside the mine, and soon Colin had dozens of portions.

Finding a temporary shelter nearby, and dispatching a mutant within, Colin ordered everyone to stand guard.

He also took out some food and, following the recipe [Burning wooden stick*10 + mildly rotten wolf meat*4 = mildly rotten wolf jerky*4], synthesized jerky for everyone to replenish their strength.

When food is not lacking, maintaining good condition is paramount.

Shana, Number Two, and the other subordinates voiced no objections, but seeing Colin exchange those vital, stamina-restoring foods for various materials, Shana couldn't help but feel a pang of pain...

“Are you really going to trade food for ordinary charcoal?” Shana asked softly, unable to restrain herself.

She had little concept of the explosive force Colin described; in her mind, it was probably no more potent than a wizard’s fire spell.

In truth, fire spells could only deal with ordinary folk...

Doing a simple calculation, Shana reckoned she could defeat a crowd of commoners with just a bit of food.

Colin made no attempt to hide from her the world channel chat information.

“Someone’s trading food for charcoal? Are they an idiot?”

Similar messages appeared; Shana saw the mocking and skeptical remarks... She frowned, tempted to correct those who spoke against Mr. Colin.

“It’s fine. Soon you’ll realize its importance...” Colin said, his hands busy, lips curling with a faint smile as he glanced at the chats.

Shana’s sapphire eyes lingered on Colin’s profile, noting the focus on his handsome features.

She knew he was serious and said no more, nodding as she prepared to guard him closely.

As the strongest fighter in the group, it was her duty to ensure Colin’s safety.

At that moment, Colin retrieved from the trading market some stones emitting a peculiar stench.

Shana observed as messages appeared again in the regional chat.

“Haha, I just traded a few chunks of sulfur for some food. How could anyone be so foolish as to clear the market’s sulfur with food...”

“Sulfur? That stuff’s useless for survival. Why trade for sulfur?”

“Wait, you said someone traded for sulfur? Who would want sulfur at this stage?”

“I have a bad feeling... Not sure if my guess is right, but maybe someone discovered a saltpeter mine...”

“What does sulfur have to do with saltpeter? Why do you look so concerned?” someone asked, confused.

“No way, no way, surely nobody here doesn’t know how to make black powder, right? Charcoal, sulfur, saltpeter—the three essentials for transmigrators. Did the guy upstairs start working straight out of kindergarten?”

“2333... who knows which district’s lucky fool it is. Survivors there are in trouble; whoever controls black powder early on is basically unbeatable...”

“My neighbor hoards grain, I hoard guns. My neighbor becomes my granary...” someone gloated in the chat.

He didn’t believe the person was in his district; after all, the trading market was shared across all districts, a thousand people in each, millions of districts—what were the chances?

Later on, when everyone had developed, black powder would lose its value.

There would be plenty of opportunities to grow stronger.

“Ah, probably not our district...” someone in the regional channel said, sounding dejected.

“Besides, saltpeter is scarce in nature. Most of us struggle just to get outside, let alone find such a thing... Maybe they just have more snakes over there...”

My neighbor hoards grain, I hoard guns—does hoarding guns equal hoarding grain? Is Lord Colin hoarding guns? It doesn’t look like it...

Shana wondered curiously, her attention still focused on food, making her intrigued by the remark.

The guns she knew were spear-like weapons, so she couldn’t grasp what the others meant.

Yet, judging by their sudden change in tone, Lord Colin seemed to be doing something remarkable.

This eased her mind; she had worried Colin might be like a cultist or mad doctor, believing that combining random things would grant power or fill the belly.

But in reality... such types usually only produced heaps of useless junk, claiming the deadly mix would make them stronger, or that eating powders of different stones would keep them alive...

Shana radiated a faint white glow, hands half-clenched, her expression calm and natural, though her mind was busy...

Suddenly, she heard Colin speak with cheerful satisfaction: “It’s finally done!”

Shana turned curiously and saw that, on a long bench inside a battered box, nearly a whole crate was filled with black powder.

So this was the powerful weapon Mr. Colin spoke of?