He plunged the knife in and began gutting the wild boar, tossing the organs aside for scavengers. "So," Ethan added, not looking up from his work. "What are you offering?"
"What do you want? My little sister? You got it!" Ryan roared excitedly.
Ethan choked, his face darkening with exasperation. "Ryan, stop messing around. I want bullets."
"What?" Ryan was shocked, and so were Victor and Commissar Ren. "What do you need those for, brother? You're not planning to go hunting, are you? I'm telling you now, most wild animals are protected. If it wasn't a life-or-death situation with this boar, we couldn't have killed it either."
Ethan smirked. "Heh, you think I need a gun to hunt?" he said confidently. "I just want to shoot for fun. I fired off 200 rounds the other night and haven't had my fill yet!"
Ryan suddenly turned serious. He knew how some rich, spoiled second-generation heirs used their connections to get away with illegal hobbies. "Hold on. You fired 200 rounds? Where did you get a gun?"
"Relax, don't be nervous. I have a gun license." Ethan walked over to the river, washed his hands, wiped them dry on a towel, and pulled a small booklet from his pocket.
Ryan flipped it open. It was completely legitimate. The permit listed him as a mountain forest ranger, authorized to carry a firearm to prevent poaching and protect against wild animal attacks.
"Oh, kid, you're doing pretty well for yourself! You even got the paperwork sorted. Let me see the piece." Ryan relaxed, smiling as he handed the license back.
Ethan pocketed it and pulled out his pistol.
"A Type-92 police pistol? Nice. I'm guessing Suzie helped you pull some strings for this?" Ryan said, feeling a twinge of sibling rivalry on behalf of his sister, Yuyu.
"Heh, just tell me if you have the bullets or not!" Ethan said, returning to clean the butchered pig by the river.
"Of course I do! Even if I didn't, I'd find some just for my little sister's sake! Tell you what—I'll give you a thousand rounds. In exchange, you give us three of those armor-piercing blades. Deal?"
Ethan chuckled inwardly. He had anticipated they would want the weapons the moment they saw them, which was exactly why he had bought plenty of swords and knives beforehand. He pretended to mull it over, looking conflicted. "Alright, fine. Since it's you, Ryan, I'll agree. Anyone else, and I'd tell them to get lost. By the way, do you guys want these small fruit knives, or do you prefer short swords?"
"Wait... you have swords too?" Ryan and the other two gasped, their eyes widening.
Smiling at their stunned expressions, Ethan walked over to his large duffel bag, dug around, and pulled out three sheathed short swords. Each blade was about thirty centimeters long.
Shing!
The moment the blades were drawn, their cold, sharp gleam almost pricked the men's eyes.
"Wow! What a blade!" Ryan yelled excitedly. He ran over to a thick tree and took a hard two-handed swing.
Swish!
The blade passed through the trunk as smoothly as a hot knife through butter. A second later, with a loud crack, the tree toppled over. Ryan jumped back in shock, staring at the sword in awe.
"Ryan, you're dead meat. Destroying the natural environment? Better pay up to keep my mouth shut, or I'm going to your superiors to file a complaint!" Ethan teased.
He walked over to the fallen tree, swiftly chopped off a dozen sharp, straight branches, and turned to the envious soldiers. "Here, take these. Skewer whatever pieces of meat you want and roast them yourselves. Don't tell me I need to teach you how to do that too?"
"Thank you, Brother Ethan!" the soldiers roared excitedly, grabbing the branches and gathering around the fire to start their barbecue.
Old Lui, one of the guides, walked over, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Brother Ethan, my mouth was running a bit too much earlier. Please don't take it to heart." Old Sun nodded beside him.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," Ethan replied calmly, handing them some makeshift skewers as well. He then grabbed two branches for himself and began roasting his own cuts of pork.
After admiring their short swords for a while, the three officers smelled the roasting meat and gathered around the fire.
"Hand them over!" Ryan said, extending his hand toward his Third Battalion Commander and Political Commissar.
"Hand what over?" Both men immediately hid their swords behind their backs.
"What do you mean, 'what'? I just bought these with a thousand rounds of my own bullets! You two aren't expecting a free ride, are you?"
Victor coughed awkwardly. "Well, I'll give Brother Ethan an American-made automatic rifle. I bought it when I was stationed overseas and barely used it. I brought it with me on this trip, and it happens to use the same caliber ammo as his pistol. Sound good, boss?"
Ryan nodded. "That's acceptable. What about you, Old Ren?"
Commissar Ren scratched his head, thinking hard. After a long pause, he asked weakly, "How about... I introduce my cousin to Brother Ethan?"
"Screw you!" Ryan barked. "You think you're slick? If you set him up with your cousin, what happens to my little sister? Hand it over! Give me back the sword!"
"Ah, wait, boss! Put it on my tab! I owe you! I'll give you something good later, I swear!"
"Fine, I'm holding you to that!" Ryan grumbled, happily attaching the scabbard to his belt. He took a bite of the pork Zack had roasted for him and groaned in delight. "Man, that's delicious. Wait, Ethan, what are you pulling out of that bag? My god... you brought top-tier liquor? No, no, we're on a mission. Military regulations say we can't drink on a march... Hey, hey! Why are you putting it back?! Bring it here, dammit!"
Ethan laughed and walked over with four bottles of premium liquor, handing one to each officer. He cracked his own open and took a swig.
"Come on, brother. You practically saved our lives today. I'm toasting you with your own wine—cheers!" Ryan raised his bottle excitedly, clinked it against Ethan's, and took several heavy gulps.
"Brother Ethan, saying 'thank you' feels too formal at this point. Let's just drink!" Victor and Ren chimed in, raising their bottles.
Zack, the guard, stood up with his military canteen. "Brother Ethan, I'll use water in place of wine. Here's to you!"
"Alright, alright, sit down and eat!" Ethan smiled, clinking his bottle against Zack's canteen and waving for him to sit.
Nearby, Blackie and Whiskers were tearing into large chunks of roasted pork that Ethan and the soldiers had prepared for them. The two wolfdogs brought by the guides weren't quite so lucky; they gnawed on the leftover bones tossed aside by the men.
"Haha! I never expected that in the middle of this dense, dangerous mountain fog, we'd be living it up like kings!" Ryan wiped his mouth, his face flushed from the alcohol and the heat of the fire. "You're a freak of nature, Ethan! Man, I just wish we weren't on a mission so we could really drink! No, I need to sing! I have to sing!"
Ryan took another huge gulp of liquor, stood up, and roared a classic military song into the vast, swirling fog.
"A hero's pride spans a thousand battles! Only those who dare to fight can see the dawn! A good man sheds no tears, even when his heart bleeds..."