Riches and Bitches: I have a gate to an isekai and leveling-up system!

Theoretically speaking, revealing the true nature of the "miraculous herb" to Makary the way I just did was an extremely poor idea. It meant that I could no longer claim it to be something extremely precious. Revealing the truth also kind of forced the man to re-evaluate our cooperation so far…

Or so I was worried he would. But contrary to my expectations, upon hearing my words…

Makary only smiled.

"It doesn't matter what an item is worth," he spoke in a much lighter, even fainter voice than usual, as if echoing some sort of a profound thought. "It only matters what people are willing to pay for it."

Did he mean it in regards to the herb? In relation to how he paid a lot for it, given how he provided me with his own card and rented an expensive penthouse all for me?

Or maybe he was talking about the weapons he was trying to sell to me right now?

"Things are worth what people are willing to pay for them, indeed," I agreed out loud before throwing another glance at the locker with the weapons.

And while doing so, I couldn't help but recall the numbers displayed on Fay's status when she transformed into her true form.

'Who it is to tell I won't meet opponents on that level?'

If warriors with seven attributes on average could withstand a single bullet from a pistol while not prepared, what would they be able to defend against when anticipating this kind of attack? And what if I were to encounter someone even stronger than them?

I gulped my saliva down as a sudden thought intruded upon my head.

'What if I will have to face one of the celestials or divines? Will normal guns be enough for them?'

My eyes moved to the side, allowing me to take a look at the unbothered, nearly bored look on Fay's face.

She initially showed some interest in the weapons, prompted by my own reaction to them. But by now, given how our talks devolved strictly to the negotiation, she didn't seem to hold any of that interest anymore.

'Well, they do not look presentable. They weren't designed with fashion but deadly effectiveness in mind.'

I took a deep breath, trying to sort out my thoughts.

Was it worth it? Would it be beneficial long-term to agree to those harsh terms? And lastly…

Where else would I find the source of this level of technology, given how all the newfound powers that sprouted in the power vacuum after the economic and social meltdown were dead-set on reclaiming every last one of them?

"Things are worth exactly what people are willing to pay for them," I repeated the words that already echoed Makary's claim. Then, my eyes moved up and locked on Makary's face while my lips curved up a little. "But just like it applies to me, the potential buyer, so does it apply to you, the current owner of those weapons."

Makary's eyebrows moved up a bit. It was a barely noticeable change, but with how little he allowed his emotions to reflect on his face… If I were to translate it to the reactions of any other person, Makary would be making a shocked face right now.

"Are you trying to build a small army…?" I asked in a faint voice, more throwing the idea out of my head than actually being curious about the answer.

"How do you think I've built my group?" Makary actually replied to my question, taking me in by surprise. The look on his face softened up a little, only to turn colder as he opened his mouth. "We are soldiers who were robbed of the war we were promised. And now we just… linger."

I squinted my eyes, struggling to absorb the revelation just now.

Did Makary… desire war?

But wasn't warlike, the worst thing that could happen?

In all the textbooks that I've used while still at school, the economic downturn and the plague of inner strife that wrecked the already fragile world were but a small price to pay to avoid a full-scale conflict.

The fact that most of the world's countries ended up splitting into city-states just like the academy city we were in while most of the people grew considerably poorer… I was always taught that it was a small price to avoid the void war growing into an actual conflict. A tiny sacrifice when compared to what everyone would lose if that war actually started.

As such, when faced with someone who actually despised the outcome… I didn't really know how to react to it.

"Anyway, I'm not trying to outright sell those to you," Makary shook his head and changed the topic, pushing it back to what we were talking about before this small tangent. "Their prize is steep, so just like you suggested before, I'm willing to consider them an investment."

The man turned silent, the look on his face growing more and more complex as he threw a long glance at the cabinet's insides.

"An investment that I expect great returns from," he added, taking a step towards the cabinet and reaching out to grab one of the weapons.

"This here is a neugarand. A rail-powered, bolt-action rifle. It dry-launches a small projectile containing a cumulative charge," he explained as he brought out a long and extremely rudimentary-looking weapon.

In its base form, it looked only slightly different from the weapons I could see while watching the movies about the second and thankfully the last world war that actually happened.

"Unless we are talking about behemoths, there is no armor that this rifle cannot pierce. And when it does, the bullet splits into seventy tungsten shards, each launching at just a slightly different angle from the point of impact."

Makary brought the weapon out and passed it over.

With my fingers wrapping around the thick steel of the weapon, I couldn't help but swallow a gulp of saliva.

I've heard of this piece. The bread-and-butter of all the neumodern soldiers, the very core of their equipment that turned every infantryman into a walking artillery and anti-tank unit.

A simple weapon that singlehandedly turned most of the armored vehicles obsolete, as only the aforementioned 'behemoth' class armor could withstand its shots.

And just like it was the case with the weapons themselves, maintaining that armor to keep it in good shape was one hell of a costly endeavor.

"Standard kit includes spare rail, two battery units, and a package of a hundred shots. But from what I've heard, it would be best if you changed the rail after thirty shots at most, for every shot beyond that exponentially raises the risk of the rail malfunctioning."

It was still a personal weapon, not a massive artillery piece where redundancy could solve the issue of wear and tear. Without a sliver of doubt, it was a great weapon… but it came with its own limitations.

"You don't need to advertise this one to me," I spoke out, shaking my head as my eyes moved back toward the insides of the cabinet. "On the other hand, though, I will need something for up closer and personal."