The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 85
EP.85 Solution (1)
Alright, fine, I’ll admit it—it does look cool.
Seeing Lena holding a pair of vintage 20th-century-style semi-automatic pistols, each loaded with opposing elemental rounds, kindled a twinge of envy. Not to mention the romantic appeal of her weaponry, which ignored all practical considerations—it made me feel an irrational unease, like I’d somehow chosen the wrong concept for myself.
In the 21st century, a bolt-action rifle with a wooden stock and barrel shroud would be considered vintage charm. But in the early 20th century, when plastic wasn’t yet widely used for mass production, it was just another rifle, and mine was no exception—especially since it was an Imperial standard-issue model. I chose it mostly because ammunition was easy to obtain within the Empire.
Technically, even my shotgun conflicts with traditional notions of “chivalry.” I picked it purely for practicality, and it’s just a plain pump-action model—hardly impressive or stylish.
If I’m being honest, the only piece I chose for its flair was my Wexler revolver. However, since the Empire commonly uses it for military purposes, it doesn’t appear particularly sophisticated by most people’s standards.
The two Koch Model 98 pistols Lena used are also standard military issue in the Autonomous Region, though they look foreign and unfamiliar from the Empire’s perspective.
Dual-wielding pistols might not be particularly unusual by 20th-century standards, either; pistols were considered one-handed weapons at the time. There’s a reason they’re called “handguns” in English, or 拳銃 (meaning “fist gun”) in some languages.
So, in this world, dual-wielding pistols might simply be seen as a sign of confidence in one’s shooting skills. And, as it turns out, Lena is a fantastic shot.
That said, no matter how well I’d adapted to this world after over ten years, twin pistols still fell firmly within the realm of fantasy for me. Why do dual-wielding setups show up in FPS games despite being inefficient? Because firing both guns freely in each hand just looks that cool. Sure, people know it’s impractical in reality, but the style is irresistible.
To be honest, I half-suspected that Lena knew my true identity. Maybe she, like me, was someone who had possessed a new body, and she’d decided to mess with me by acting as the character Sylvia Fangriffon, who doesn’t exist in the original story.
However, after observing Lena for a few days after class, I couldn’t find any sign of odd behavior. In her room, she would hug a doll, practice her stances while walking around, and even roll around on her bed, as if diligently crafting her character.
Watching her from outside the window, I wanted to knock and politely ask her to close the window while doing these things. But if I did, she’d immediately know I’d been watching her for a while, so I stayed silent.
…Honestly, who else but me would go to the trouble of equipping high-performance binoculars or a telescope just to observe a teenage girl’s window?
…
And so, on that day, I finally decided to stop observing Lena altogether.
*
“Are you saying you want all of this processed into bullets?”
The workshop craftsman looked a bit dazed as he asked.
“Is that a problem?”
“Oh, no, it’s not that…,”
The craftsman said, eyeing my face cautiously.
“It’s just… you look really tired.”
Well, of course I was.
Leo and Claire were an unstoppable pair. They tirelessly roamed around every weekend, diligently taking on slightly stronger beasts and numerous requests.
Recently, they had even started bringing a few more people along, making it a group of four. The other two people varied each time, but it seemed to reflect the original work’s flexibility in changing party members for quests…
Because of them, I’d had to get up insanely early and race around just to gather even a small amount of Marmaros. I also scouted potential future dungeon locations on my own, though I didn’t fully explore any of them. Based on my memory, I visited every spot where I thought I could pick up some Marmaros near the dungeon entrances.
The amount of Marmaros I had collected was quite substantial for an individual to bring to a workshop. If processed into bullets, it would probably yield at least twenty rounds. I was just estimating based on the size of the bullet heads and the individual pieces of Marmaros.
“Let’s just say… I had my reasons.”
“I see…”
The craftsman seemed to decide it was best not to press further. Looking down at the Marmaros, my rifle, and revolver on the counter, he then asked with a serious expression.
“So, which firearm would you like these bullets made for?”
“Well…”
Hmm.
For reloading purposes, revolver bullets were more convenient. They were easier to load one by one, and if necessary, using a moon clip would allow for faster reloading than a rifle. But my primary weapon was still the Ergensen rifle.
As I mulled it over, the craftsman spoke up.
“If you want to use multiple types of bullets, I can make some modifications to your rifle.”
“To the rifle?”
“Yes.”
The craftsman pointed to the left side of my rifle with his finger.
“I could install a magazine cutoff switch so that the next round won’t load automatically. This way, you can fire the rounds in the magazine as usual, but when needed, you could disable the magazine and load it manually as a single-shot rifle.”
Oh.
That sounded quite plausible.
A clip-fed firearm from World War II had the same opening for both loading and ejecting casings, so single loading was tricky. But my rifle had separate openings for loading rounds and ejecting casings. As long as the switch blocked the magazine feed, I could load it like a single-shot rifle.
“Marmaros bullets are expensive, after all.”
“How long would it take to make those adjustments?”
“It shouldn’t take long. I have some spare military parts available.”
“So, does the military install magazine cutoffs?”
“There was a time when ammunition was harder to produce than it is now. The leaders thought of every bullet fired into the air as wasted money. Instead of issuing single-shot firearms across the board, which would later need replacing, they built repeating rifles with cutoff switches. Nowadays, adding that feature is more of a parts expense than anything else.”
“I see,” I nodded. “In that case, please go ahead with the modification.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Oh, and…”
I began, just as he bent over to gather the materials to start the work. He looked up at me expectantly.
“Do you have any reliable semi-automatic pistols available?”
“A semi-automatic pistol? Don’t you already have the Wexler?”
“Well…”
I hesitated briefly. In truth, reliability differences were marginal, and, if anything, the more complex mechanism of the Model 98 seemed more prone to failure. Still… I wanted something that looked more like an actual weapon.
“If you’re looking for something with the functionality and reliability of a revolver, I’m afraid there’s nothing on the market at present.”
“I see.”
I nodded, not daring to ask if he had anything with a more refined aesthetic. The craftsman fell into thought for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.
“If Her Highness desires…”
He glanced around, then lowered his voice.
“I’ve heard rumors that a new military standard pistol will be designated.”
This was news to me. If such rumors existed, they must have come from Jennifer. She must think highly of this man’s skills.
“Ahem, so, just in case, I’ve designed a prototype.”
Seeing my interest, the craftsman opened a drawer and placed a pistol on the table.
“This model has a slightly larger caliber than standard, with the simplest mechanism I could design. It holds one round in the chamber and seven in the magazine, totaling eight rounds. It has the same ammo capacity as a modified eight-round revolver but with greater firepower.”
“…”
I picked up the pistol, almost entranced. It was quite heavy, probably over 1kg. But the weight difference from my revolver wasn’t significant enough to be a problem. It was a pistol with a slide, the kind typically associated with automatic pistols.
…To elaborate, it was the kind of pistol that comes to mind when one thinks of a “handgun.” Even someone with a slight interest in firearms would recognize it as a .45 caliber automatic pistol. The hammer protruding from the back of the slide gave it a somewhat old-fashioned appearance, but it added a touch of elegance to the design.
“It has two safety mechanisms as required by the military. The trigger won’t pull unless your hand is on the grip—”
“Sir.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness?”
Interrupting him mid-sentence, I called out, causing the craftsman to respond in a flustered manner. His voice carried the fear of potential punishment for creating a firearm based on leaked information.
As I examined the pistol, turning it over in my hands, I continued speaking.
“Anyway, I haven’t heard your name, sir. May I ask what is your name?”
When Jennifer introduced me to him, she only mentioned that he was a “skilled craftsman” and provided the workshop’s location.
“Ah, yes.”
He hesitated for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden question about his name, before slowly opening his mouth.
“My name is James Browning.”
Browning.
…Wait, was that name really just pulled straight from the book?