The three explosive technicians huddled around a plastic folding table they'd dragged from the warehouse corner. Wade watched from a distance as Chawky carefully unscrewed the top of a grenade, and then got to work pulling it apart. The other two leaned in close, occasionally pointing at components Wade couldn't identify from where he stood.

"Pass me the box cutters," Chawky muttered, tapping something on the grenade with a pencil. "We should be cutting this sideways for more surface area, but the nutjob wants a way faster fuse."

Macrom held up a small spring between his fingers, absentmindedly testing it. "What about error margin? Thing goes off in his pocket, he's dead before he even has a chance to throw it anywhere."

"Well, he ain't planning on throwing anything in the first place sounds like. So long as he doesn't accidentally hook the pin off a door handle, should probably be fine." Chawky said, then paused, as if thinking more. "…Maybe we add some more security, make sure he really wants that pulled."

"Duct tape?" Osmalla asked, holding up a black looking loop.

"Duct tape." The other two said.

Wade shifted his weight, trying to see what they were doing, but Leon put a hand on Wade's shoulder, gently pulling him back. "Let professionals work, da?"

Zin hovered on the other side. "What he means is grenades have this charming little habit of exploding in a fifteen to thirty meter radius, so let's discuss business right over there." He pointing to the far other side of the room. "I have complete confidence in all three of them, but I'd have even more confidence from a nice, safe, comfy distance of thirty meters. Call it a quirk."

One of the working bomb team gave him a middle finger, but the three remained focused on their grenade surgery.

"Now, where were we?" Zin hummed walking by some of the plastic crates. "Ah right, I remember now. The part where I get some additional business revenue while they're occupied."

Wade had thought the crates had more grenades in them, but he also had a hunch Zin had brought more to the table than that.

The archdemon's shoe connected with a black crate, then pushed hard, sending the lid flying open on the hinges. Inside, nestled in equally black foam cubes, lay an assortment of handguns.

Glock 19 (high quality)

"See, ask and ye shall receive." He said, waving over the collection. "Got you the premium stuff for your little misadventures on the other side."

Wade narrowed his eyes at the guns. Then up to Zin. "What are you asking for these? An IOU for a mana crystal?"

"Normally yes. If I had to hand off some of these puppies for just a possible future return, I expect it to be delivered with interest - but you got something else for trade I could use right this moment."

Wade crossed his arms. "The language blessing."

"Exactly, the language blessing!" Zin steamrolled on, sliding up to Leon next. He actually had the same height as the giant. Leon looked back at him. "I know Mr. Davoski here couldn't have picked up a gun on his way down to LA here, nobody in Navada is going to sell to a foreign national, this is the USA, the only people buying guns without oversight are those who keep losing them in unfortunate boating accidents. Do you own a boat Mr. Davoski? No? Shame, we could change that in the future of course. Let's keep in touch." The archdemon turned away, back to the crate and pulled one of the guns up, tapping it fondly. "Hence why you need my excellent goods here."

System thought it was high quality. Wade looked up at the archdemon next, looking for more clues.

Level 86 Greater Infernal Essence - 100%

No level increase. So Zin either didn't ever plan to use the weapon, or it was a drop in the bucket compared to what the archdemon himself could do in a fight. And if it was the former, it meant Zin's attacks would be faster, more convenient or just flat out better than using the gun. Or maybe if Zin was pitted against himself, the gun wasn't going to be what made a difference? Lot of ways to think about it.

But all of it made Wade think guns might not be an I-win button. "How good are guns in Azdrial?"

"That my friend is the million dollar question."

"Wait, you don't know?"

The demon looked back to Wade. "Remind me again, for the record, are there any earth-tech guns in Azdrial right now?"

"Ah. Point." Wade said. "Can you at least take a guess at it? I imagine slingshots exist, so we could probably study how throwing rocks evolved upwards and where it stopped working?"

"Certainly could. For a price." He grinned deeply.

Wade sighed, then cracked his neck. "All right, fine. Fine, let's rumble. Because you know I sure as shit won't trade a blessing of language for just some theoretical talk about how good or not good guns are. I want the entire house and kitchen sink if I'm going to trade."

"I wouldn't have it any other way Mr. Wade." Zin's grin deepened, and Wade could really see the pointing semi shark-teeth. They almost seemed to get sharper in real time, and Wade wasn't sure if that was actually happening, an optical illusion, or just his head messing with him.

That grin would get wiped out real fast the moment Wade opened his mouth to deliver the first gut punch: He wasn't selling the blessing.

He was selling a subscription to the blessing.

"I want favors from you to be done each day in exchange for keeping the blessing active. Consider it a daily licensing fee. Today's price is going to be those handguns along with ammunition, training, and discussion on how to best use those. We'll decide what tomorrow's price will be when we get there. Sound good?"

He held a hand out to Zin.

The archdemon stared down at it, giving a few small choked chuckles. "Don't ya think that's a little steep there champ? I appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit, truly I do, but we're talking about a very niche little party trick here. Half the time everyone's gonna be speaking English anyway. I'm not paying a ransom just so I can visit comic con and speak Klingon. Have to factor in actual use case here Mr. Wade. If I'm not getting a day's worth of use from that blessing, I ain't paying for it."

"The blessing comes with a lot more than just language. Body language is a language that it translates, and that includes tells on what someone's real intentions are. It'll be more than just a translator in your hands, and we both know it."

Not always, and usually more a side-item, but Wade knew he had to play hardball with the Archdemon here.

Zin tutted. "Intentions? Body language? Listen here, I've been reading people since before certain monkeys figured out rubbing sticks together makes noise. I don't need some magical cheat sheet telling me when someone's lying."

"Mhm. That's up to you to decide." Wade kept his hand extended. "Daily rate stands."

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"Oh for the love of-" Zin pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Buttercup, a single day's use of that blessing you got is worth a single handgun at best, and you'd be lucky if I throw in some lint and a lollipop wrapper."

"I know what I'm worth here. People would pay thousands per day for this blessing, and what you're offering back here is stuff I could already buy myself using my credit card. The only actual service here is convenience of having it all together in one package here, and some information I'd need a few days to learn myself on the other side."

"What I'm actually offering you here is immediate, life-saving firepower that could potentially save your hide. That's what I'm offering you. Real question is: can you afford to walk out of this warehouse empty-handed? Answer's no, and we both know it. Don't get it twisted Mr. Wade. You're saving me the hassle of hiring some two-bit translator off Craigslist, what I'm saving you from is possibly your life. One gun for today's subscription, Lollipop wrapper optional."

"Six guns. And we still need to talk ammunition, training and everything else needed."

"One and a half."

Wade blinked. "How do you give someone half a gun?"

"With a hacksaw and extreme pettiness, Mr. Wade."

Leon coughed, poorly hiding a laugh.

"Four guns." Wade bargained. Six was good, but he really only needed three at the minimum. One for him, Leon and Illy. "Plus ammunition, plus you teach us how to maintain them, and some general tips on how they'd work in Azdrial - and I'll do a two day blessings."

"For two day blessing…" Zin tapped his chin a few times. "Two guns, ammunition, and I'll throw in a YouTube premium subscription so you can watch maintenance videos yourself."

"Now you're just arguing back for the fun of it."

"We all have our hobbies Mr. Wade." Zin smiled deeply, fixing his tie. And then launched back into it.

***

They'd negotiated down to two days and one mana crystal. Wade got his three guns, and a promise from Zin he'd look into getting more effective gear in the future. Like a claymore mines, rifles, and so forth, along with reasonable rates.

It was a long involved process, but by the time he was done, the bomb team had volunteered one of their own to go and teach the rookies how to arm, fire, and not gunk up a glock 19. They'd managed to rig up two grenades to detonate exactly on time, theoretically. They hadn't actually tested it, so Wade would have to pray right before pulling the pin.

They did indeed have a basic firing range setup in the warehouse with wooden boxes on the far end, setup ahead of time since Zin knew he'd be trying to peddle these guns and Wade would want to know how to shoot.

Both Leon and Wade had no idea how to use a gun, although Leon knew a little more about them in general compared to the retail worker.

The discussion on how to best use those guns in Azdrial was almost as useful as the guns themselves.

"First, you got the main problem out the gate: Bullets won't be as lethal in Azdrial." Zin said, sitting on the plastic chair as Leon practiced loading and arming the glock with instructions from the trainer.

"What? Is there something in the air that makes them hit less hard?" Wade asked. "Mana?"

"Healing magic, da?" Leon asked, focusing on the motions but still hearing the discussion.

The demon flashed him a smile. "Point for the anthropologist."

"Sure, but you can't heal a headshot." Wade argued.

"How many headshots happen in gunfights on average?" Leon asked. "Bullet wounds often fatal later, that is main way they killing. Many people still walk and fight after being shot. Dying comes later."

Zin pointed a finger at the Russian, happily wagging it like a proud teacher would. "And there's your first hurdle: You want maximum bang for your buck, you gotta go for the headshot, the heartshot, or use a bullet so catastrophically large that it doesn't matter where you hit, they're still going to have a really, really bad day."

Wade looked down at the glock. "I'm guessing these bullets won't be big enough?"

"Eh. Jury's way out to lunch on this one." He looked over to Leon and the trainer, who'd both stopped to listen. The demon tutted, then rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, I can give a short history lesson on this. Warfare, gentlemen, is basically the universe's longest-running arms race - and I mean that literally. Someone gets a sharp stick, someone else counters with armor. Stick turns to sword, armor gets beefier, fast forward until we end up with a nuclear missile. It's basically a really murderous game of one-upmanship that's been going on since, oh, forever. Same deal no matter what country or world you're standing in. But on Earth here, the defense got steamrolled somewhere around the industrial revolution and never really recovered. Even your tanks with their latest fancy reactive armor plating can still get bodied in a few dozen creative ways by some guy with a dream and access to enough explosives. In Azdrial, it's different. Enchanted armor and gear. The second and biggest hurdle you need to bypass besides killing faster before they can heal."

"Selena did wear armor." Leon said, thinking. "Would that protect her from bullets?"

"Yes, but with caveats." Zin said. "And these caveats are where these little puppies here might just shine if you're creative enough using them." He tapped the crate filled with five glocks.

Leon looked them over, then back at the handgun he was using himself. "Can enchanted armor block cannons?"

"Now you're thinking like your forefathers." Zin laughed. "If she had a real powerful mana crystal to power her armor, she just might. That's one of the caveats of enchanted armor, there's a ceiling to how much it can protect from and that comes down to quality, skill, and how much juice said user is burning through."

"So… why didn't bigger cannons become a thing?" Wade asked.

"No need to make actual cannons, a few artillery mages working together could launch a rock way further, faster and for cheaper. And then you get mages on your side to make anti-giant rock cannon defenses, and so forth. Here's where we hit some oddities."

He cleared his throat, slicked back his hair again. "See to make enchantments work, someone needs to be burning mana and pumping it through into the gear. Except if you're the Nathir, they're the exception. You always need someone touching enchanted gear to power it, control it, read it bedtime stories and so forth. And that includes weapon enchantments."

Zin mimed a missile launch with his finger, whistling as it arched upwards.

"Inevitably means anything you launch from your side of the river is no longer enchanted when it leaves your babysitting range. And it ends up on the other side against enchanted defenses. Remember the sharp sticks and armor discussion earlier? This is where Azdrial and Earth diverged. Defense here didn't get steamrolled. Here it can outpace the stick sharpening because it gets magic and the stick loses magic once it's gotten out of that babysitting range. The only way to neutralize the homefield advantage is to have the homefield advantage yourself."

"Mithril?" Wade asked. "That would break mana, right? Why not a mithril arrow or something? Hit armor, suck up the mana, and turn it off?"

"You've got that ring in your pocket right? Take it out kiddo."

Wade did as ordered, fishing the small ring. It remained dead in his hands, no power flowing inside it. He realized what Zin meant about someone needing to be there to flow mana into it.

"How'd it feel when you pushed mana into this little thing?" Zin asked.

He remembered pushing mana into the system, and then losing control over the eaten mana. It was sucked into the ring, attuned to holy magic, programmed to heal and then released. Wade explained it to Zin who nodded.

"Could you control that released mana?"

Wade thought about it. "A little bit, once it was back in my body. And I couldn't stop or pause it from healing."

He'd held the puff of holy mana in his mind's eyes - and literal eye - and it had continued healing everything it touched until it winked out of existence. In fact, now that he thought of it, it was barely anything in there that he could control at all. It was like turning the wheel in a car when the power steering had stopped functioning.

"Wouldn't you say that's a little above the natural order of things from what you've learned so far?" Zin asked. "Mana inside your body is supposed to be under your complete control. But once it passed through that ring, BAM. It's all gone from your control. Like it took new marching orders and those supersede everything. Including Mithril's pull. That's the problem: Magic coursing through metal is a step above the natural laws we know about, and that natural law includes mithril and other metals affecting it. You can't suck out mana that's hiding inside metal, like enchanted armor. It can only be sucked out from a living body or out of the air."

Wade thought about it. That was true with the ring. "Why?"

"Nobody knows why." Zin shrugged. "Unless, you're the Nathir. They're the exception. And they don't want to share that with anyone."

Mana flowing between metal, and living beings, and acting differently in each. Wade felt there was something there, some kind of cosmic balance. Inside himself, he was the one who controlled it with variable skill. Inside metal however, it seemed these runes did the controlling with an irontight unthinking control, and all he could do was push more mana into the metal.

He looked over his ring. Activation runes. The same ones on Leon's hammer. All carved out in shapes of a clear different metal compared to the rest. "What exactly are runes?"

"That's the neat part - you didn't pay anything to learn about that yet." Zin gave him the deepest grin Wade had ever seen. "All you paid for is my best guesses at how guns will work in Azdrial. So here's my answer: Aim for the head with your gun, shoot when they don't know they're in a fight yet, or completely overwhelm their defense. If the bullet delivers flat out more kinetic energy than their armor is charged to protect against or they aren't quick enough to pump in more power, math says they get turned into pink mist." He reached a hand out and tousled Wade's hair. "Bottom line scamp, you can make this work. You're not going to find a cabal of warmages opening fire on you with artillery. And guards you'll run into aren't going to roam in teams carrying defensive entrenchments built to block a small tactical nuke. Not any more than your police officers here run around with a minigun.

You just need to be clever and apply the right tools to the right situation."

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