Chapter Forty-Eight: Searching for Weapons (Part Two)

Wang Ling could barely maintain consciousness now. After belting out a song, much of the burning frustration from drinking had been vented. Seeing his state, he forced himself to rinse his mouth with tea, drank a bowl of sobering soup, and felt a little clearer. With the help of a waiter, Wang Long was carried upstairs to a room to sleep, while Wang Ling himself went to the restaurant’s upstairs bathroom for a shower.

As the water from the shower cascaded over him, Wang Ling’s mind gradually cleared, though fatigue weighed heavily on him. Lowering his head, he looked at the eight gold bars strapped to his calf—their dazzling luster catching his eye. His thoughts drifted to Cheng Fu, who had just performed drunken boxing, and he fell into contemplation.

From the explosive force and gunfire-like bursts in the air that accompanied Cheng Fu’s drunken boxing, it was clear how formidable his martial arts were. After all, he would be one of the high-level characters in the future Double Dragon fighting era, with skills that surpassed almost all others of that period—including even the titular Double Dragon brothers, the protagonists—at least in terms of the fluidity and variation of his moves.

From the moment Wang Ling saw Cheng Fu, he had the idea of recruiting him as an ally. Cheng Fu’s strength definitely surpassed the likes of small bosses such as Williams, Roper, and Linda. Having such a powerful companion by his side would be an immense advantage.

Currently, Wang Ling faced three major obstacles. The first was the remaining three days of pursuit, with the enemy being the dark-skinned, musclebound brute, Arnold. The second was the main quest target, Brunov—though killing him would finish quest four, and it didn’t matter who did it, Wang Ling knew relying on luck was not an option. The third was Bai Feng, a dreamer on the side of evil, whose intentions remained shrouded in mystery.

Among these threats, Bai Feng was likely the strongest, yet Wang Ling found her the easiest to deal with, since her speed was not great. As long as he was wary of the birds she could suddenly shoot from a distance and avoided getting hit, escaping from her would be no trouble.

Arnold, however, was the immediate and pressing threat. He was a genetically modified, muscle-enhanced fighter, with monstrous strength. Wang Ling figured that, with his own slight build, he wouldn’t survive even a punch or two from the man. If the Dark Fighters mobilized a helicopter for another search, having learned from last time, he might not be able to destroy the aircraft and escape again. If forced into a direct confrontation with Arnold—even with Wang Long’s help—they would be hopelessly outmatched.

It was important to remember that Arnold also possessed martial arts—lethal techniques akin to black market fighting skills. Combined with his immense power, every punch and kick could be deadly. Wang Long, skilled in staves, wielded a wooden pole, but that would be no match; a single punch could splinter his weapon. Without his staff, Wang Long’s effectiveness would immediately be halved.

Wang Long’s agility and strength were not particularly high, roughly on par with Wang Ling himself. Even with a stamina stat of thirty-five, he probably couldn’t withstand more than a few blows before being taken down. As for Wang Ling, lacking enough missions for personal growth, his only real hope of threatening Arnold was the Red Elite Flintlock—his rare weapon.

Given Arnold’s dark, steel-cable-like muscles, Wang Ling doubted whether the lead shot from his flintlock could even penetrate. Facing this black giant, his chance of success was less than fifty percent—unlike facing Bowser, where traps on the stone bridge could be exploited.

Now, having met the drunken master Cheng Fu, perhaps Wang Long and Cheng Fu together, with Wang Ling harrying Arnold with the flintlock, might stand a fighting chance. He couldn’t be certain of victory, but at least it wasn’t a one-way escape anymore—there was a possibility of fighting back.

If Arnold could be eliminated, then the main quest boss, Brunov, would be of little concern.

Who would have thought he’d encounter Cheng Fu in a Chinese restaurant at the New York docks? Not recruiting such a helper would be unthinkable! Fortunately, up to this point, Cheng Fu had a favorable impression of both Wang Ling and Wang Long, having enjoyed a grand meal, two jars of wine, and a song, and had even demonstrated his drunken boxing before them.

In truth, Wang Ling would rather not use anyone if he could help it. But having only completed the novice mission, his own abilities were still lacking. Not making use of every available resource—be it environment or people—meant certain death in this Double Dragon world.

After mulling things over and settling his mood, Wang Ling glanced once more at the eight gold bars on his leg, turned off the shower, dried himself, dressed, and left the bathroom.

Wang Long’s thunderous snores still echoed, accompanied by a slightly softer one—Wang Ling assumed it was Cheng Fu. To think that the drunken boxing master could drink himself into oblivion was unexpected.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his wits, Wang Ling headed downstairs to find the restaurant owner.

This Chinese restaurant was an old establishment at the New York docks; otherwise, it wouldn’t be distilling its own strong liquor. The restaurant was a gathering place for all sorts, so the owner, Mr. Li, in his fifties, was sure to be well-informed.

Wang Ling’s goal was to find out where he could purchase firearms, and also to secure a better staff for Wang Long. Wooden staves were too fragile—against Arnold, they needed at least an iron staff. Otherwise, if the wooden staff were smashed with a punch, what good would it be?

Mr. Li, seeing Wang Ling come down, was all smiles. He had a good impression of this generous, polite, and clean-cut young Chinese man. “You’ve had quite a bit to drink. Why not rest a while upstairs instead of coming down right away?”

Wang Ling smiled. “I’ll sleep later. You’re well-connected, Mr. Li. I wanted to ask about two things: do you know where I could buy firearms, and where I could find a weapons shop?”

“Firearms and weapon shops?”

“That’s right. As you know, regulations back home are tight about such things. Since I’m in America, I figured I might as well buy a gun to take back. Also, my retainer is skilled with the staff. He’s using a red-lacquered cudge now—it’s elastic and tough, but not as sturdy as iron. I want to get him a proper iron staff,” Wang Ling explained.

“So the big man really is a martial artist!” Mr. Li nodded knowingly. “There used to be gun shops in America, but after the nuclear war twenty years ago, chaos took over the cities. All the gun shops were looted, and the factories bombed. Now, major factions ban the circulation of firearms. Some families might have guns hidden away, but after all these years, the ammunition’s long gone.”

“You might be able to get a firearm, but bullets are nearly impossible—unless you go to one of the major factions. Without bullets, a gun is useless.” Mr. Li spread his hands.

“As expected, it’s not easy to get a gun in this world. Makes sense—if it were easy, the main quest would be too simple, and the game would certainly enforce some limits. Good thing I managed to buy that red elite flintlock before entering this world—what luck,” Wang Ling thought.

Mr. Li continued, “But there are weapons shops. New York is under the control of the Dark Fighters; their influence hasn’t quite reached the docks, but things are still unsettled here. Dock workers often carry axes, knives, or short swords for self-defense. There are two weapons shops near the docks. It’s midday now, and I can’t leave the restaurant, but I’ll take you there this afternoon.”

“No need to trouble you. I was thinking of going out for some air anyway. Just give me the addresses—I’ll find them myself.”

With the addresses in hand, Wang Ling set out, inquiring as he went, and found both shops. Unfortunately, they had nothing he wanted.

Weapons shops typically sold knives, swords, axes, and spears—long spears, at that.

A staff is only a stick, and without the right wood, it wouldn’t do; the material needed to be hard but not brittle, flexible yet unbreakable. In a place like New York, there just wasn’t the right kind of wood for good staffs. Besides, staves weren’t profitable, nor particularly effective, and no one wanted to spend money on an unwieldy stick when a dagger was handier.

If wooden staffs were hard to find, iron staffs were even rarer. A solid iron staff would be heavy and thick—at least fifty pounds—impractical for most, so weapons shops didn’t stock them.

Still, Wang Ling didn’t return empty-handed. He bought two weapons for himself: first, a palm-length dagger. This was an E-grade white weapon, with an attack power of 2–3. It was a story-world weapon, meaning he couldn’t take it out of this world, but it was sharper than the throwing knives used by the Dark Fighters and perfect for self-defense at his waist.

The second was more unusual: a stun baton, shaped much like a flashlight, capable of delivering a high-voltage shock of over ten thousand volts at the push of a button. The attack method was simple—grab the insulated end, press the switch, and jab the other end into your opponent.

When the electrodes touched human skin, the high voltage would instantly send current through the flesh from one electrode to the other. The current was weak—not lethal—but the pain was intense, as if being pierced by a steel needle. Such pain was enough to send most people into neurogenic shock, and the numbness and muscle spasms it caused could easily leave someone dazed.

When purchasing the stun baton, the shopkeeper repeatedly warned Wang Ling not to shock anyone’s heart or head, and Wang Ling made a mental note of those two forbidden areas.

All in all, it was a useful item—though, like the dagger, it was a story-world object, and couldn’t be brought out of this world.