The army of Zudrath City grew in a way that normal recruitment notices have become...irrelevant
Some able-bodied men, especially the devout believers of Lord Zudra, still young and full of energy, all abandoned the world of hard labor and decided to become the vanguards of Zudrath City, not because they were drawn to the military slogans or the benefits of becoming a soldier, but because they have all been a victim of chaos and destruction that had shaped their moral and emotional characters, they knew that in this accursed world, none have the guts to act as saviors but them.
Nearly all the youth of Zudrath City, about eighteen to twenty years old, have all joined the military to serve in the front lines, they endured the relentless drills, trained until their bodies broke and collapsed, they had overcome every obstacle Rak Mhan had set.
Yet among the nine thousand soldiers, only six hundred of them were the true, elites of the elites.
They did not train with swords or spears, nor did they endured the relentless training and drills set by Rak Mhan, instead, they were sent to a different practice.
Shooting.
Before the ministries were established and long before Roy had even considered recruiting soldiers, he had already reached a conclusion.
For the past few months of living inside the mirror, he discovered the absence of modern day technology which was why the progress of cultivating and upgrading the village into a proper city was...painfully slow
As a member of the modern society, he had already planned to introduce modern day technologies to his tiny people such as nailguns, impact drivers, cellular saws, and most importantly, weapons.
Yet such technology being lend to people who have never even heard of such tools, was no different than toddlers figuring how to solve quantum mechanics.
There was no choice but to shove the idea aside.
But now that the city finally has a proper army, proper soldiers to defend the city whenever it is exposed to danger, Roy could no longer stand idle.
He had first selected the six hundred men who was once under Sor Sogon's group, to be the first armed units, not with swords, not with spears, but with firearms.
But before that idea could truly manifest, another problem resurfaced like a sunken ship that decided it could no longer stay hidden.
Not just that Roy did not have any permits to buy modern-day weapons, purchasing such a number in public would certainly raise suspicion, inevitably be sentenced to jail for firearm possession, or even worse, treason.
Roy exited the mirror with a gloomy expression, his face dark as the idea of where he could find such a number of weapons loomed over him like storm clouds, his mind racing with visible unease.
He slumped flat on his sofa with a heavy thud, his body weight seeming to have doubled as he lay down.
Just as he pondered deeper in his thoughts, he suddenly noticed faint buttons shining on his strange mirror.
He squinted his eyes as he tried to look closer.
Two buttons have mysteriously appeared on the screen, bearing the markings of the mathematical multiplication and division symbols that seemed to glow under the faint sunlight, and below the symbols was a tiny, square-shaped box, much like the two previous buttons capable to shrink and enlarge objects that passes through the mirror.
"Huh? When did this happened?"
Bewilderment flooded Roy's mind as he tried to process the situation, utterly confused by what the two buttons meant.
"What do these buttons do?"
Roy murmured to himself, his thoughts raced like a storm as he tried to reach a conclusion
A flash of idea suddenly appeared in his mind.
He went to grab a small needle, still laced with thread, tapped a mysterious button where a multiplication symbol was written, and tossed the neddle into the mirror.
Roy's eyes widened in shock, excitement surged through his veins as realization struck him like a hammer.
The needle had multiplied, just then, he set the number on the screen to ×7, and
the single needle suddenly gave birth to six more small pricks that thudded onto the ground.
Roy was utterly ecstatic, his eyes practically lit up like dry grass being set ablaze.
Now that the mirror finally has a new system, only one problem remain unsolved.
Weapons.
Just then, another flash of idea suddenly surfaced in his mind, he dashed to grab his phone, dialed an unknown number, until a voice answered the call.
"Hahaha little Roy, how are you doing?"
The voice said, clearly not trying to hide it's excitement as he answered the phone.
"I'm fine, uncle." Roy replied, his tone carried visible relief.
"Hahaha that's good to hear, i was worried wether you could survive on your own there in the city."
"There is no need to worry uncle, I am doing fine on my own."
A pause broke the call, the reunion of uncle and nephew suddenly fell silent, yet as if both of them knew the same reason.
Before Roy moved to the city, he had spent his early days with his uncle in the mountains, hunting, camping, and practice shooting in the woods, those memories hit both men with a feeling of reminiscence, wistfulness silenced them both like a blade.
His uncle was a veteran soldier, and inside his uncle's basement was a stack of weapons, rifles, pistols, even a small quantity of hand grenades.
Roy did not let the awkward atmosphere lingered, he cut through the silence and went straight to the point.
He asked his uncle if he could retrieve his old, Ruger AR-556 rifle, not because he was eager to hunt, but because he wanted to continue his target practice here in the city, he asked if he could deliver the firearm along with a couple bullets.
Roy's uncle was utterly confused, clearly not understanding his nephew's request of suddenly wanting to possess a firearm, his mind raced through countless conclusions, yet listening to his nephew's enthusiastic and cheerful tone, the old man's heart had no choice but to reconsider it's choices.