Karl nodded. "Alright, follow me."
He said, leading the way.
Julien secretly curled his lips at Leon and whispered to him, "Whenever a newcomer comes, he starts rambling about his old stories."
Leon smiled.
They walked to a large iron door. Karl took out a large bunch of keys and opened it. When the iron door swung open, Leon's eyes lit up.
The warehouse was filled with shelves, and various weapons were displayed on them.
Guns and cars are a man's greatest love. Almost no man doesn't love guns and cars, just like girls can't refuse a Barbie doll or plush toys.
Karl walked in front and introduced:
"Many of these guns have been used. Some were retired from the battlefield, like the M1 Garand rifle, the M1 carbine, the Mauser 98 rifle, the Kalashnikov..."
As he spoke, he picked one up from the shelf, patted the gun body hard, and said to Leon, "MAS 49/56 semi-automatic rifle, a standard-issue weapon for the Legion. You should be very familiar with this, right?"
Leon's consciousness had completely merged with the original Leon's, so he was indeed very familiar with this rifle. Taking the gun from Karl, it felt incredibly comfortable in his hands.
"Clack!" Leon pulled the bolt hard. Click. He gently pulled the trigger.
"This gun is well-maintained," Leon said, stroking the rifle.
Karl smiled. "I don't just sell guns; selecting and maintaining them is my specialty. I carefully select these guns when I acquire them, and then I personally maintain them after bringing them back, ensuring every gun here is in top condition."
"I'll take this one," Leon said immediately.
Karl nodded with a smile. "12,500 francs, and I'll throw in 100 rounds of ammunition."
This price was not low; it was about three months' wages for an ordinary worker.
"Karl, these guns of yours are all used goods. Besides, the production cost of these guns is only a few hundred francs. You're selling them too expensively," Julien chimed in from the side.
Karl curled his lips. ""Just because it's easy for me doesn't mean it's cheap for you."
Leon was amused by the old man's words. "12,000 francs, and throw in 200 rounds of ammunition."
"OK, no problem," Karl agreed readily.
Continuing forward, they came to the submachine gun section.
"How about a submachine gun? Want one? A Thompson, the German MP40, an Uzi, or the MAT-49..."
Leon didn't think twice and asked for a MAT-49. He had carried one in the Legion for five years.
For pistols, he wanted two MAC 50s, the pistol he had been issued in the army. They would replace the Colts he had never liked.
Then he also picked out a very beautiful Manurhin revolver.
Finally, Leon saw a pump-action shotgun. Leon didn't hesitate and bought it directly.
There were also machine guns, grenades, and even explosives and other munitions in the warehouse. The old man asked if Leon wanted any, but Leon shook his head and refused.
"We'll see if I need them later."
Karl smiled. "Alright, come get whatever you need, and I'll give you a discount."
He talked about a discount, but the old guy didn't skimp on the price at all. Three long guns, three short guns, and the matching ammunition—in the end, the total came to fifty-five thousand francs.
For a man who had just earned 850,000 francs, it was nothing, and this money was well spent.
There was a shooting range behind the gun shop. Leon took his guns to the range to practice. Facing a 50-meter target, he hit it almost every time, and the iron disc targets rang out with clangs.
Julien was also shooting nearby, but his results were far worse; he couldn't compare to Leon at all.
"Boss, your marksmanship is truly accurate. I might not even hit the target once in ten shots," Julien said enviously.
"Marksmanship is fed by bullets. When you've fired thousands or tens of thousands of rounds, you can also become a sharpshooter," Leon said.
Karl nodded from the side. "Leon is right. If you want good marksmanship, you have to practice more."
As he spoke, he picked up a gun and fired repeatedly at the iron plates without any aiming time. Every time he fired, an iron plate rang out. After the old man finished, he walked away coolly.
Watching Karl's slightly hunched back, Leon thought to himself that this old man must have been a terrifying soldier in his day.
They practiced until after four in the afternoon, then left Karl's gun shop.
A week later, in the evening, Leon and Julien stopped by a few bars and finally arrived at the Blue Ocean.
By now, the sky was already darkening, and customers were arriving one after another. Leon and Julien got out of the car. The guard at the entrance saw the two of them, greeted them, and let them in.
"Let's find a place to sit," Julien said.
As they were walking in, a beautiful woman with a tall figure, wearing a red coat, walked over. She greeted Julien and finally looked at Leon.
Her beautiful eyes looked him up and down with interest.
It was Nathalie.
"Boss, it's her again," Julien whispered. "Since the night of the fight, she has come here almost every evening, and every time she asks the waiters whether you are in."
Nathalie stepped forward twice, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor, and she stopped when she was close to Leon.
Leon was over 1.8 meters tall, and Nathalie in her high heels, standing in front of him, wasn't much shorter.
The woman looked at Leon with her brown eyes, smiled, and reached out her hand. "Hello, Mr. Leon. I never got to thank you for that night. Can we get to know each other?"
"My pleasure." Leon smiled and reached out to shake her hand.
"Want to have a drink together sometime?"
"Of course."