Billy can't deny that this was rather boring after they had to introduce this alchemist lady; he isn't keen on making friends other than the comrades he has now. While the adults were talking among themselves in regards to his friend's condition, he nonchalantly looked around the shop for anything interesting.
And so far, nothing seems to keep his eye, much to the boy's disappointment. Hours had passed since he was forced to wait, having to glance at them once in a while just to find out how things were going. But he has to admit that he is getting impatient due to having to do nothing.
There were some cool things he saw that were displayed for the customers to see, but they got stale really quickly. Looking back at them, they seem to be also asking about the directions to where the tavern is. Which is a good thing they have also asked.
Regardless, it is taking too long, and because of his own impatience from waiting for more than an hour, he left the store on his own, out in the open with the fresh air still present. Walking on the street, he can see various people who are either talking, eating, or working.
It was also when he saw the farmers who were harvesting the crops, using pitchforks, rakes, sickles, hoes, and baskets to collect the grains, vegetables, and fruits; some even waved back at him in a friendly manner when they noticed him passing by.
He found it strange when everyone was avoiding them after he and his comrades arrived at this place, likely because of Morgan. Or they probably haven't seen him and his companions yet. Either way, it wasn't important, for he only wanted to put his mind somewhere else.
Lovely day to walk in medieval settlements of all places. The difference between his own world and this is surprisingly different—very different in fact. Technology is almost nonexistent in this era, and magicians like Morgan are not usually tolerated or seen.
Not that he cares about it because this isn't his people, but just by looking around here, it is incredibly outdated in terms of said technologies. It is a shame they have to use wheelbarrows or manual labor in every aspect of their lives, while new machinery or tools back in his world were more reliable.
However, his thoughts of his world came to an abrupt end when he accidentally bumped into somebody, causing the unexpected blond boy to fall on his buttocks with an irritated expression. "Watch it!" He said in anger, glaring up at the culprit, "If you can't focus on your darn surroundings, then use your eyes next time!"
A muscular adult man with a black skin tone and beard, along with a curly afro faded hairstyle, was wearing a blue shirt and pants over a brown apron as one of his brown gloves extended towards the boy on the ground. "Sorry, I didn't notice you there," said the man apologetically with a big grin on his face. "Here, let me help you up, kid."
Reaching out for the man's hand, the boy reluctantly accepted it, allowing him to stand on his feet again. "Thanks," he said, rubbing his sore bottom and fixing his hat. "Next time you should look where you are going," advising him to be careful.
Billy stopped for a moment; his eyes looked at the man up and down before realization dawned on him: "Are you a blacksmith by any chance?" He was interested in knowing this individual's occupation, "the attire and hammer on your waist kind of gave it away," pointing out the details of what he noticed.
Blinking of the boy's deduction, he smirked in amusement, "Yes, I am a blacksmith, a skilled one at that," folding his arms together, "I can produce any weapon used by the empire itself; I make swords, axes, spears, bows, and so forth," detailing his awesome prowess of what he is capable of doing.
"Even muskets?"
A confident nod then came from him. "Even muskets," he answered with his smirk still plastered on the man's face. "Why do you need a weapon or something?" Said the blacksmith, raising his brows in anticipation as if he were ready to make what he wanted, "For someone as young as you, do you know how to wield weapon? They are no toy after all."
Ignoring the question, Billy quickly interjected, "I know how to wield a gun before, and I need it, "making the man surprised by this claim. "This isn't the first time someone has accused me of being too young to hold a weapon," shaking his head sideways in exasperation.
Sensing the sincerity in his words, the blacksmith took a step back. "Sorry for assuming, kid," the man apologized sincerely. "Most children your age wouldn't have known how to even fight with a weapon, but seeing that you actually know how to hold a gun..."
Taking the time to study him closely, he ask, "For what reason do you want one?" Said the blacksmith, his eyes narrowing down on him, "judging by the way you talked, I have a feeling it isn't to protect yourself nor have fun with it; what's your motive?" I wonder about the boy's true reasons.
Scratching the back of his head in exhaustion, he asks, "Can we talk about this in a more private place?" Billy suggested, "I don't want the others to know about it or it will get complicated real fast," he warned, making sure that no one would eavesdrop on them.
Glancing around their surroundings, the man sighed in defeat. "Sure, I don't have much to do today anyway." As he said those words, he walked away while prompting his potential customer to follow. "Don't derail though; I want to hear your motives clearly," he told him sternly as they started to move.
"Just shut up and let's get straight down to business."
As they reached where the blacksmith resides, they saw a small building consisting of cobblestone walls and thatch roofing, along with an entrance made out of wooden doors. Going in, it is a small but functional space, enough to live comfortably.
There were shelves of different sizes on the wall, filled with different types of weaponry and armor pieces, each arranged in a neat and organized manner. There were also tables where the blacksmith usually does his work, such as crafting and repairing the many blades, firearms, and accessories for his customers.
In the center of the workshop, there was a furnace where the heat was blazing, capable of forging metals and smelting them to create stronger and more durable weaponry. The tools used for this profession, including hammers, tongs, and anvils, were neatly placed on the shelves or in the nearby toolboxes.
Despite being cramped and cluttered, the man seems to have a system for how he keeps track of his products and materials. There is even a small counter by the entrance for people who want to buy items from this shop. Overall, the place is very functional and serves its purpose, making any blacksmith feel at home.
"Alright," he said, turning around to face the unruly teen, "what is the reason for wanting a weapon?" Patiently awaiting the teen's explanation, "And I hope, by the great divines, you won't use them for illegal activities," he prayed to the gods that it would not be the case.
Instead, Billy shrugged his shoulders and said, "If you want a reason, I'll give you one." After saying this, he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It's called survival," answered the muscular person in front of him, "You know why?" He waited for this blacksmith's answer, but it seems like the man doesn't get his point.
Fortunately, the boy was able to convey his message clearly this time: "Because everywhere out there tries to get me and my friends killed," he stated honestly, "bandits, monsters, and whatever else wants to murder us will try their damned hardest to make that happen," saying it with complete seriousness that unnerved the man.
"Okay, alright, kid!" Extending his open palms towards the cowboy's direction while waving it frantically in defense, "I believe you, I totally believe you," telling him that he has accepted the boy's answer before lowering his own arms altogether, "I can see the same thing happening to me and those who live in this village, but it still doesn't make sense of how you want a gun of all things," scratching his head in confusion.
Billy scoffed at his ignorance. "I already explained in simple terms earlier, and your still clueless," making it clear that the teen is getting annoyed by the man's slow understanding. "I need it for self-defense, isn't that clear?" I wanted him to realize what he was trying to say.
Getting frustrated by his client's responses, the blacksmith exhaled deeply and calmly. "I know waddya mean kid," he clarified in his deep tone of voice. "It's simply that having a gun or sword will draw more attention and risk you getting caught," informing him of the possible consequences that he will have to go through. "It's dangerous in many ways, and I doubt that you know how to avoid it."
Annoyed of how he is being underestimated, Billy wanted to lament his anger, but he knew better after he learned his lesson: "I'm a traveler who travels through the land," stating this information that caught the man's attention, "that is why I need a weapon to fend myself against any son of a bitch that tries to mess with me or anyone I cared about," explaining his own reasoning that is less simple this time.
It was good that the man finally understood after that long process of communicating, "Then why didn't you say so?" Surprised to hear this, "I thought you were part of our community," revealing his assumption, which was contrary to reality, "Where are you from and what's your name?" He had a lot of questions that needed answers.
Although Billy rolled his eyes at getting the obvious question, "The name is Billy," introducing himself to this blacksmith, "I'm from a place called America, which is very far from here, pretty much beyond this land," vaguely telling the location of his homeland to avoid complicating the problem.
Explaining his life in a different world and how he ended up here would be too much for this simple blacksmith, so hiding the truth would be the most effective way to deal with this matter. Aside from that, he doesn't want to waste any time continuing such a pointless conversation.
"America?" Curiosity and puzzlement were laced in the man's words. "I never heard of that place before," he said with interest in his eyes, "so it's beyond this land?" I was astonished to find this out, causing irritation on the teen's face from having to talk more about useless things.
"Look," Billy then rub his own tired eyes with sleeve in an attempt to calm himself from this growing nonsense. "Just make me musket, and we'll both be done with this crap, okay?" Making it clear for the last time, "And please, no more questions of what I am or where I am from," begging him to simply make the gun for him instead of wasting anymore of his time.
Snapping out of the trance, the blacksmith straightened up while clearing his throat, "Alright kid, let's get this over with then," agreeing to his terms as he gestured to one of the benches, "go take a seat over there while I gather up some materials to make the gun you want," ordering the boy to take a seat.
Sighing in relief of this being over, Billy walked to the bench and sat down on the wooden stool while watching the man walk to another table where all his tools and supplies lay, starting the tedious process of making the requested musket from scratch.
As Billy observed, the blacksmith first started by gathering various raw materials from his stockpile, including different types of metal and wood, along with adding a variety of smaller objects such as screws and nails before putting everything on top of the table.
"My name is Samuel," the man casually told as he began his work on the first phase by separating the materials into two groups. "What about yours, kid? You got a name, or should I stick with calling you 'kid'?" The question arose after hearing the last sentence.
"I'm no kid," he said while gritting his teeth. "The name is Billy," he informed without second thought, "Billy the Kid." Repeating his title with pride as he showed of his superiority as "a master marksman who never misses," confidence rang through his tone with a smirk formed on the corner of his lips.
"Hmm, Billy the Kid?" The blacksmith hummed while he picked up an ingot of iron, inspecting the metal before deeming it acceptable before placing it on a certain part of the table. "So, Billy, what type of musket do you want?" Samuel asked, deciding to continue the conversation, "like long barreled, short barrel, carbine, rifle, and so forth," listing a few types of muskets in the book of weaponry.
